So it goes with saying that only things I own with any connection to MARVEL I bought on Ebay or Etsy. MARVEL COMICS & MARVEL CINEMATIC UNIVERSE are their own creatures and I have nothing to do with either of them aside from the fact I enjoy reading or watching them, and am grateful for the ability to play in their world. I claim nothing, and I receive nothing for this, expect the pleasure of putting something out into the world.
You can also find this story on ARCHIVE OF OUR OWN under the same title and pen name along with a place to post suggestions.
Don't forget to check out the Photobucket album listed on my profile page too. (My apologies. I didn't realize FF removed the links. I have corrected the problem in what way I can, so for those who like the visual additions, feel free to check them out.)
DAY THREE
CHAPTER SEVENTY FOUR
THURSDAY, MAY 3RD 2012
1131 HOURS
S.H.I.E.L.D HELICARRIER
INTERNATIONAL WATERS OFF EAST COAST, USA
FURY
The conversation started with my honest attempt at letting them explain this, but that courtesy evaporated with the words "We sent in those forces Director Fury, because we could not afford to wait." And for a moment I let silence fill their ears as I rub my temples in frustration, not for the first time wishing they were here in person instead of just images on my screens. "No, what you did was encourage a bunch of poorly informed small town cops to throw away their lives trying to capture an alien terrorist wielding power greater than a nuclear bomb."
Oh, look at that, silence. "Oh, I'm sorry, did you skim over that part?" The question mark note tacked on there falsely implies I'm waiting for an answer as much as it misleads that I might give a shit about it even if I hear one. "Or did you forget I'm the director of an intelligence organization? That's okay..." I continue on as I swing open the manila cardboard "...because I can read it to you."
"At 0851 hours a 14 year old named Clark Myers from Creekside Middle School walked into the PD of Carmel Indiana with information about one of the FBI's Most wanted, and he wanted to know if he could get his reward in twenties."
"Now reasonable doubt aside, I don't know if you know just how excited small town police officers get over a chance to do something besides write traffic tickets. So after they questioned the boy and looked at the evidence he had on his phone, they decided to at least check it out, with a SWAT team."
The distaste in my tone with those last two words is so undisguised it's almost laser focused. Sending a SWAT team after Loki is a miscalculation of par with bringing a feather pillow to a tank fight and the only way a mistake like that is possible is with bad information or a complete lack of it. "Director Fu..."
"I am not done."
"When they got there, they were just surveilling the area until they ran into a unit of mercenaries with assault rifles." I barely even consider lifting my eyes at the asian accent trying to say my name again. "I'M STILL NOT DONE."
"The fight went into underground level which the people of that town were never supposed to find out about, not that it's a secret any more because an entire theater complex just dropped forty feet into the ground, and buried 67% of the local PD, 12% of the national guard they called in for backup. We also have five massacred army reserve men in a Domino's parking lot, and a home invasion that turned into a homicide, with a little girl who is still scared to do anything but ask for her dog. Oh yeah, and that STRIKE team you forgot to tell me was being sent out, apparently they are collecting their dead in a nature park."
My tone should still be furious, but this is the part where it softens. "Now here's the part where it gets real interesting, that Most Wanted man's name the kid gave is Glen Stewart Godwin, and it wasn't hard to recognize him since I orchestrated his escape from Folsom Prison personally, because his father asked me to." My eyes look over to his face in particular, taking in the kind of exhaustion I haven't seen in him since Bogota. "What happened Alexander?"
The left side of his cheek shifts as he pulls the flesh between his teeth and then lets it go. His hand twitches as he taps his pen three times before the fourth one has his fingers sliding down the shaft and tip of it rolling out of his fingers to rest flat in the table. His eyes close before that helpless smirk of frustration takes over his lips as his glasses come off and are only set on the table with half of a concern. "He's my son Nick. He asked for help."
"His team was running a mole mission in a gun running ring. They went dark a few hours after the P.E.G.A.S.U.S base fell, which you know we were looking into because the time was suspicious. But it was a deep cover mission, and when I received an alert with his old Alias I knew it was an extraction request and I assumed that's why they went dark, their cover had been blown and they were retreating to a safe location. I didn't even consider the possibility he was with the Asgardian, because there is no strategic value to a place like Carmel, Indiana. Even with the bunker, Barton knows better locations."
"So you just sent his old team to bring him back home?" The yes is delivered in a nod. "There were no details, so I sent the STRIKE team in case they needed back up. Even Rumlow didn't see the trap until their eyes were glowing in his face. He and his men had no choice but to put the affected agents down."
"And Alex?" I ask with the concern of a friend, and wondering how his sister and his niece is going to take this. "We haven't found his body, so we have to assume he is still with Loki or at the very least not in control of himself." He's still except for the breath as he speaks the words slightly more to the table then me. "I already put his face out there, my son wouldn't want to endanger his country. He'd understand. She'll understand too, I'll tell her."
"We think it was a recruitment attempt." Councilwoman Hawley's voice cuts in rather abruptly but with a soft edge that suggests her sympathy all the same. "Using the son of a high official like that would guarantee higher level agents being sent to bring him in."
I can see her logic, but I can also see the mountain of contradiction in the way. "No, if he was just trying to add soldiers to his ranks he wouldn't have dropped a city block on top of a SWAT team, that's wasted resources and attracts attention, Barton could have incapacitated all of them easily, even a STRIKE team wouldn't be hard, all he would have to do is sacrifice a few of his mercenaries, use them to distract the team while Barton took them down enough for him to turn them. That also doesn't explain the kid and her family."
"So what do you think he was doing then? Trying to lower morale by showing he can get even the best of us, didn't he already show that with Barton? Or is this just his idea of a dress rehearsal?"
"I honestly don't know."
THURSDAY, MAY 3RD 2012
1134 HOURS
S.H.I.E.L.D HELICARRIER
INTERNATIONAL WATERS OFF EAST COAST, USA
COULSON
Do my job. Stay professional. That's all I have to do. I recite it again, as I've been reciting it all day. I added many more repetitions of the stay professional back when I visited Stark Tower in what was only thinly veiled in the illusion of a request. It would have spoiled my association with Miss Potts for a while, but I was completely prepared to taze Tony Stark beyond the threshold of consciousness and transport him to the helicarrier against his will if necessary. I'm glad it wasn't because Miss Potts is very nice.
She makes all my interactions with Stark less stressful, and she even helped me relax when we left, asking me if I could give her a ride to Laguardia airport on my way out of town. She brought up Audrey.
Ever since the incident with the Ironmonger, and the fiasco that was the I am Ironman press conference she and I have kept in touch, and she knows my girlfriend. Audrey is back in Portland right now. Since Marcus Daniels, an enhanced individual with an obsession with her has been locked away she decided it was time to move back home and see if she can get her position back in the symphony, I even heard she is up for second chair cellist. I hope when this is over I can get some time off and surprise her with a visit.
The only down side to my relationship with Miss Potts was that the conversation made time pass too quickly and the fifteen minute drive seemed more like three and with her closing the door I found myself back into the frantic pace of trying to save the world as we know it. Never thought I'd want to save the world more than I wanted what I had scheduled next.
I had to pick up Captain America. After I was caught by Maria Hill sitting vigilantly at his bedside after they pulled him out the ice, I was told not to approach him until he had a chance to assimilate into this century a little, because they were worried my enthusiasm would overwhelm him. But now I get to pick up my Hero for his flight, and I feel sick to my stomach with dread, all over the thought of one name. Nora.
So far for the flight he has been quiet, except for the initial greetings, the tablet in his hands keeping his attention is he catches up on the players we plan to team him with. But what if he asks about her? What am I going to do WHEN he asks about her?
I'm in a situation where I might have to lie right to his face about the safety of his best friend, because history has shown us how dangerous the Captain can be to himself with that knowledge. He almost fell off a train trying to save James Barnes, then he drove head on into an enemy terrority, and steered a plane nose first into the arctic circle in a suicidal act of heroism.
Do my job. Stay professional. That's all I have to do.
THURSDAY, MAY 3RD 2012
1136 HOURS
S.H.I.E.L.D HELICARRIER
INTERNATIONAL WATERS OFF EAST COAST, USA
NATASHA
My phone shocks me with a message a few minutes before our wheels even connect with the deck of the helicarrier, and I knew instantly why the message came. Intercept Captain America. Coulson is succumbing to his fan-boy tendencies. The pilots probably told on him, that or Fury pulled up the cockpit camera and checked.
He knew as well the second he saw me stroll up what I was approaching for, the realization that his alone time with his hero was approaching showed the the very slight stumble in his steps as he stepped off the ramp. It showed in his admiration filled introduction of the man in a brown leather jacket at his side too.
Captain Rogers.
My 'hi' to his 'ma'am' may have come of more callous then I intended it, but I was still upset over all the information I read during that flight back from India, and the general stress of sharing such a small metallic space with my fellow passenger for so long. I also didn't intend to waste any pleasantries trying to separate Coulson from his hero, if he was already acting foolish, it wouldn't be long before he graduated to mistakes.
After Coulson walked away with reluctance buried under his professionalism I take the opportunity to look over this man I heard so much about. His name came up on the lips of every S.H.I.E.L.D agent, but I didn't really start paying up until it started coming up on Nora's lips, and in the same sentence as her name.
This is the first time I've actually seen him in person. Of course I was aware we found Captain America in the ice but I was already out on the ten rings assignment before he woke up so all I had was second hand accounts and the files I read on the plane.
They list him as Nora's friend, but beyond the cold technical details of the outing logs I can't help but wonder if they underestimated the emotions on both sides. Nora might love him. The way she acted around him, if it weren't for the barrier of her condition, those acts would fit perfectly under the label girlfriend.
The sister in me is more focused on puzzling out his feelings though. He might love her too, and I think I'm hoping he does because he is good to her, and she might need someone who is good to her when this is all over.
None of this analysis filters through though because if it did I'd have to let him know I know Nora, and that can't happen yet, not until I get that order, and not until we know what's happened to her. I misdirect with talk of vintage trading cards as I guide us back to a very lost looking man in a brown suit and loafers.
It didn't take Banner long to take over the introduction, glad for something to distract him from nervously dancing around all the military that a certain general had him avoid for so long.
As soon as it became clear they were getting along just fine I found no trouble in settling back to give the space to do just that. I only stepped in when one of the air traffic controls sent out a general broadcast letting everyone know that take off procedures were beginning and we had to clear the carrier's deck soon.
Smirking a little I realize that this will be the first time the Captain has seen the helicarrier in action. I have the same observation with Banner, though his was more predictable. I remember the first time I saw the helicarrier take off, and I remember Nora's too, though that was more thanks to Clint sending me the copy of the security footage then my actual presence on that day.
A glance over my shoulder as I lead them into the control room doesn't leave me disappointed, but that's where my attention shifts back to more serious matters. They are running a facial scan on the latest batch of satellite footage with Clint's face as the search criteria. They haven't found them yet, but why are they looking in Carmel Indiana?