Small Packages, Big Problems
So...I'm currently way behind on updating the five different Avengers stories I'm working on. But instead of letting me work on on of those, my muse decides I need to add another story in another timeline. And my muse tends to get her what she wants. So...here's the introduction...
Nick Fury put his hands on his hips, considering the scene in front of him. Where a building had stood a few hours ago, there was now only a pile of rubble.
It had started several weeks before.
A new investigation.
Very important connections.
Six of his best.
Now, four bodies.
He frowned at the two piles of black clothing in front of him. After looking around to be sure he wasn't being watched, he squatted to examine them more closely.
Two pairs of black leather boots. Two of the form fitting black catsuits favored by many of the young, fit female operatives. Several weapons.
He frowned when he noticed a jagged tear on the leg of one of the suits, its edges damp. When he touched the spot, his fingers came away stained red. Looking around, he noticed a good sized shard of glass also stained crimson.
Leaving the piles, he stood and looked around. The rubble of the building and its parking lot was directly in front of him. To his left, the road leading into the complex. Traffic wasn't heavy, but it was still traffic. Behind him was the power station still humming as it produced power for a building that was no longer in need. To his right lay a forest, the trees in their early fall leaf-shedding stage.
Atter another glance around, he headed for the edge of the woods. He walked along the boundary until he found what he was looking for.
Broken branches. Freshly broken. Someone had been this way recently.
He stepped past the treeline and pulled out his phone.
"Coulson."
"I'm following up on something. You're in charge here," he told the other man.
"Yes, sir."
Putting his phone away, he turned his attention to the flora, slowly following traces of bent and broken branches, disturbed leaves, tracks in the dirt, and even the occasional drop of blood. He paused from time to time, listening for sounds that didn't belong. Human sounds.
He figured they had about an hour of a head start on him, but hoped that his longer legs and uninjured status would cut down on his tracking time. The sun was setting and he hoped to find them before dark.
The problem was that even if they were in the condition he suspected they had found themselves, they were still good.
Really good.
And he was a bit out of practice.
Maybe he should switch places with Phil. Let and actual field agent do the tracking instead of the guy who spent way too much time behind a desk.
Just as he was about to make the call, he finally heard what he had been listening for. A sound that didn't belong.
Unless the squirrels around here whispered in Russian.
And colors that didn't belong in the dark forest.
A flash or red. And another of white.
Sighing heavily, he cleared a small area and sat down, crossing his legs beneath him. He rested his hands palm up on his knees.
"My name is Nick," he addressed the clump of bushes in front of him. "I won't hurt you. I'm here to help."
He waited a while, but there was no response.
"I know you're probably a little confused by what happened to you. Maybe a little bit scared."
Nothing.
"It's going to be dark soon. And when it gets dark, it's going to get cold, too."
He could have sworn he heard a slight snort.
"I know you've spent time in the cold, but right now, you're just not prepared tor it. You don't have jackets. Hell, you don't even have any shoes."
Silence. Cold weather was normal for them.
"You haven't eaten in quite a while, so you're probably getting hungry, too."
Again, not uncommon in their lives.
"And I know one of you is hurt. Bleeding enough for me to track you."
There was some rustling in the bushes and the sibilant sounds of whispering.
A loud howl sounded in the distance, followed by complete silence.
"Oh, and that happens in the dark, too. The nighttime hunters wake up and go out searching for prey."
Another howl sounded, closer than the last, and two small figures suddenly appeared from the brush, standing just out of his reach.
The two girls looked to be about 7 or 8 years old. Or maybe younger. Or older. Nick Fury considered himself educated in many areas, but estimating ages of junior sized human beings wasn't one of those areas.
The icy blue-eyed glare from the girl to the left was so familiar he almost smiled. But he knew she wouldn't appreciate the humor of the situation.
Her dark hair, normally pulled back in a sleek bun, hung loosely around her face tangled with leaves and twigs. The black t-shirt she normally wore under the catsuit hung loosely on her now. The sleeves ended just above her elbows, the bottom hem just above her knees.
Again, he didn't have much 'kid experience' to draw on, but the arms and legs he could see looked way too thin. One foot was bare, the other covered in a loose black sock.
The other girl had been leaning slightly against her, but quickly straightened when his attention turned to her.
Her red curls had attracted even more of the forest debris than her friend had. The tank top she was wearing had left her shoulders bare. Comparing the two confirmed his earlier assessment.
The other girl was too thin.
The red head also wore just one sock. Peering more closely, he noted a dark bandage around her left thigh.
The missing socks, he guessed.
Both girls were covered in scratches, souvenirs of their dash through the woods and both were glaring at him.
He relaxed, pushing down his deliberately developed tendency to appear intimidating He attempted a smile.
"Hello, Maria. Hello, Natasha."
There's that. I hope you liked it. I do have more to this, if anyone is interested, but I'm going to try to get some of my other tales updated as well (hoping there's still interest in those, as well). I promise, I'm working on them. Soon, I hope.