Chapter 15. Chasing Butterflies

Jane

Once the decision was made to return to New York everyone accepted it wholeheartedly. Even though we would still be in seclusion it would be in a place most of us regarded as home, even me, although I hadn't lived there very long. Tony spared no expense in the setup of the facility, first as a residence then as a place of operations, with everyone having their own small apartment, complete with kitchenette, sitting area with TV and sound system, bedroom and bathroom. There was a common kitchen/eating area, a living room with TV, a conference room, workout room, and a large computer lab with the latest in computer hardware and software. For those who would take on the rescue portion Tony had arranged for them to use a nearby gun range to keep their skills up. There would be a regular delivery of groceries and if we wanted to order takeout all we had to do was contact Happy who would expedite it. It occurred to me that he had anticipated the need for this facility because I didn't believe even a billionaire could get it set up in less than a day. Regardless, it was a sweet setup and hopefully would keep all of us safe.

I say everyone had their own apartment, but Bucky and I shared one, at our request. With the word that my apartment had been broken into while we were in Canada, I was reluctant to move back there once this was all over. Before we left Quantico Bucky asked if I would move in with him. It was just after we had enjoyed each other's bodies, so our mood was pretty mellow and somewhat playful.

"You already know I don't snore," he said softly, "and I don't mind your snoring."

"I don't snore," I retorted, raising my head to look at him.

"Oh, but you do," he smiled, kissing me quickly. "It's more like heavy breathing with a little whimper that sounds like when you're first aroused. Haven't you noticed how often you wake up in the night and practically jump me? I have to say I feel a little objectified sometimes that you expect me to be ready for sex at those moments."

He had such a smirk on his face that I got on top of him and held his hands down on either side of his head.

"Take it back," I said. "I don't snore."

"Okay, you don't snore," he agreed. "But you do make a noise before you jump me while I'm still sleeping. It's definitely heavy breathing with a whimper. Oh, and then you stick your tongue in my mouth. It's so ... yucky."

"Really, like this?"

I kissed him with full tongue and removed my hold on his hands as he wrapped his arms around me. Then we stopped kissing, and he pushed my hair back so he could see my face in the dark.

"Live with me," he whispered. "I was already staying at your place on weekends before this all happened."

"Two weekends," I clarified. "I haven't even been in your place."

"It's bigger, a three-story brownstone in Clinton Hill, with three bedrooms, an actual yard, and I own it."

"Really, an actual homeowner? How does a cop manage that?"

"He buys a run-down home that the previous owner couldn't maintain and spends eight years tearing it apart and building it back up again," replied Bucky. "Where do you think I learned all these home improvement skills? It helped that I won some money in a lottery, enough to buy the place and set up an education fund for Rose and my retirement fund. I'm a good investment for the right woman."

That smile of his came out then and I knew I wouldn't say no. He was a good investment but in the best sense possible. I knew since then that when the time came for Bucky to meet my parents, they would love him. My dad would say he was a "man's man," physically masculine but not overbearing. My mom would say he was the real deal, a man secure enough in himself to be soft and caring. These thoughts went through my mind as we unpacked our bags in our temporary residence with Bucky noticing that I seemed to be distracted.

"You alright?" he asked, as he put his arms around me.

"Just thinking of how my parents would react to you," I answered. "You would be the masculine son my dad always wanted, and the sensitive son my mom always dreamed of having."

"I thought you had two brothers?"

"I do and a sister. Don't get me wrong ... my parents are good parents, and we were happy when we were growing up. We were all in sports, hockey in the winter, baseball or soccer in the summer. Dad coached us when we were younger, and we were often camping or going fishing. But my older brother has been in and out of rehab for much of his adult life, and it's taken its toll on my parents. My younger brother is alright but he's into other things and doesn't have much in common with my dad anymore."

"I'm sorry," said Bucky. "Your sister is older or younger?"

"Jackie is a year older, married with two boys. My dad adores them. Then there's me in the middle of her and Brent."

"I always liked the middle," said Bucky, with a silly grin. "Especially in cookies. I would take them apart and lick out the filling. Best part of the cookie."

"Don't make me laugh," I said. "I don't want to laugh right now. I want to ruminate on how I ended up with the ex-husband who wants to kill me."

"You do want to laugh," replied Bucky, pulling me onto the bed. "Because you've left the ex-husband behind and found a masculine, sensitive cop with a comfortable real estate portfolio in Brooklyn who's crazy about you. I have it on good authority that your parents will love him."

I so loved him at that moment as I laughed and kissed him. He made me feel so good inside, about us, about a future together. For a while we laid on the bed together and alternated between necking and talking. He told me more about his family, about being the oldest of two sisters and a brother. Then he brought up more about being a teenage father.

"When I got Connie pregnant, I knew they were disappointed in me," he said. "Then when I said I would marry her they weren't happy. They thought I was throwing my life away, not that they wanted me to abandon my responsibility to Rose; just getting married so young wasn't something they agreed with. I crumpled under the pressure and joined the army, trying to make it look like I was stepping up when really, I was stepping out." He looked seriously at me. "I know what I said before but really that's what I was doing. Although I loved Rose and at the time I loved Connie, I felt trapped. My friends were all looking forward to college, partying, living the life and I was home dealing with a colicky baby and changing diapers. I passed an army recruitment centre just after I turned 18, and on impulse I went in and enlisted."

"How did your family feel about that?" I asked, knowing it was important that he was telling me this.

"The shit really hit the fan," he said. "I was stubborn and convinced Connie that it was the only way I could properly provide for her and Rose, so she let me go. Both sets of parents were livid, but they made sure to support them while I was gone. I was home on leave once in all that time and it was tense, except for Rose. Then when I got back overseas, I found out by a Dear John letter that Connie was seeing a guy, Dan. I wrote her back and begged her to give me a chance to make it right. Said I wouldn't re-enlist if she just waited for me. She did and we tried." I could see the disappointment on his face. "We tried so hard to make it work but the love we had wasn't the same, and it wasn't enough. Dan asked me to let her go, without any hard feelings. We actually hugged after, but he was right. He was the better man for her."

Bucky was very quiet then and our silly make out session kind of lost its momentum. I laid with my head on his shoulder for a bit. His other hand was on his chest, and I put mine on top of it.

"You're my better man," I said softly. "I believe it deep inside. What you went through, being a teenage father, then a soldier, now a cop ... it's made you the man you are, and you are something wonderful. What made me put the wrong address into my phone that night and give me a flat tire right where you were? Then to move into the same building as your partner and his girlfriend? I believe we were meant to find each other because I sure can't imagine being without you now."

He turned towards me and pulled me in closer, intertwining our legs. Those blue eyes were intense but full of a feeling that made my heart race.

"Maybe you're right," he murmured. "Maybe I had to become a better man to be worthy of you. I love you, Jane, and when this is all done, I'm committing to a life with you. You're everything to me." We started kissing again until a knock on the door stopped us. "I'm going to have to put a sock on the doorknob if this is how it's going to be."

He was joking but the timing could have been better. It was Sam on the other side announcing that dinner was ready. We joined the others in the common room to a full catered meal that had been delivered. There was roast beef, mashed potatoes, vegetables, salad, and a cheesecake that defied belief. Afterwards we sat around on those comfortable couches with drinks shooting the breeze. In all of the craziness that we had experienced in the recent past it was refreshing to sit around and talk about nothing of consequence. The laughter raised our spirits and it was like seeing these people in a new light. It was also the last time we would allow ourselves to relax for fun as the next day was when the hard work would really begin.

While we lay in bed that night, both of us trying to relax enough to sleep, I raised myself from where I was curled into Bucky. There was something that I had wanted to share with him for some time but hadn't, as it was still raw even now. His hand reached into my hair, softly caressing it as he gazed at me.

"What is it?" he asked. "What's keeping you awake?"

"Several things," I replied. "Still angry at John for having the nerve to think I would ever agree to work with him in any capacity."

"I get that but there's more to it, isn't there?"

I nodded and took the plunge. "I was pregnant at the time of the car crash. John knew. He found the test stick from the pregnancy kit about a week before I left him. He tried to kill me when I was 4 months pregnant with his child."

There was no response from Bucky at first, except the certainty that this revelation disturbed him.

"He knew?" I nodded. "Fuck, he's a psychopath, isn't he? Why didn't you tell me before?"

"I wanted to. Almost did when I showed you the scar, but it seemed like a lot to drop on you at one time." I could feel my eyes begin to burn. "I miscarried from the crash, and it didn't even phase him. Most husbands, even ones that you split with, would have shown some emotion about it. Apparently, all he said was he didn't want to be a father anyways, so it was better that I lost it."

I buried my face onto Bucky's shoulder, and he turned onto his side, bringing me in closer as he stroked my hair and back. The feel of his arms around me was so comforting. It was something he was very good at and considering that I got very little of it during my marriage I liked how easily Bucky did it. I felt his hand under my chin as he raised it so we were looking at each other. His voice was so soft.

"You still want kids?" I nodded yes. "So do I. I'm so sorry you lost the baby. The more I find out about him the more I want to hurt him."

"He has that effect on people," I noted. "You're not mad I didn't tell you sooner?"

"No, you've been through so much." He was quiet for a moment. "When this is all over, I think we should take a real vacation. As much as I liked being in Bobcaygeon I would like to go somewhere tropical with you. Someplace private like one of those bungalows in Bora Bora that are on stilts over shallow water, or a beach house in the Bahamas where we can live in our bathing suits all day."

I listened to him describing a typical day of waking up and making love, then stepping under a rainfall shower fixture, drying ourselves off with a soft giant towel, and coming out to a breakfast made just for us. His voice was so soothing that I pictured us right there, hand in hand, his gorgeous body all for me. I didn't even remember closing my eyes and drifting off to sleep by the sound of his voice.

The following morning, we both woke up to the smell of fresh coffee wafting through the place. It was early and we both contemplated waking up completely by enjoying each other but the smell was too delicious to ignore so we got dressed and headed out to the scene of Ned and Peter making breakfast. When they saw me, they both came out from behind the kitchen island to give me a hug. I introduced Bucky to them.

"We had dates last night that we didn't want to cancel so Mr. Stark said we had to be here extra early this morning and be prepared to make breakfast," said Peter. "Sergeant Barnes, can I pour you a cup of coffee? Black, right?"

"Thanks Peter," said Bucky. "I'd appreciate that. Jane has missed you guys. She says working with you two is one of the highlights of her job."

"We've missed her," said Ned. "She's a good boss. Is it true your ex-husband showed up at the FBI wanting to work the case? I was there when he showed up at our office. What an asshole."

I laughed. I had missed working with these two. As they served us breakfast more people streamed out of their rooms and were soon grinning at the positivity these two young men showed. Everyone helped with the cleanup, and we soon assembled in the computer room. Tony and Bruce took the front and marked out on a whiteboard what our priorities were. Peter and Ned were tackling the satellite feeds to see if they could locate Loki, Sylvie, Walker, Ross, and Westcott. Sam and Rig were going to start combing through all financial records of the missing people to see if there was any trace of purchases on their bank or credit cards. Bucky, Joaquin, Malin, Carol and Thor would scan social media platforms looking for chatter on our missing individuals. Tony, Bruce, and I were going to take a deep dive into the dark web looking for anything that could be tied to the militias. It was going to be a grind, sifting through all sorts of data trying to find something that stood out. There was a cheat sheet of code words and acronyms for the less experienced computer users but Tony and Bruce also showed them some algorithms that could do the preliminary searches so they could weed out the irrelevant information.

About twenty minutes into it Peter got the first sighting of the car that left the FBI building with the three men in it, or rather four, as it was obvious there was a fourth person that appeared on a traffic cam who wasn't in the vehicle when it left the parking garage. After getting a clearer image of the man Peter started running it through facial recognition software to identify him. He also found another traffic cam that showed the license plate of the vehicle and used that to determine the exact make and model of the car. With Tony's authorization Peter was able to go into a VIN database that could help him connect to the vehicle's GPS system.

"Found it!" Peter called out thirty minutes after seeing the first image of the vehicle. "It's currently parked at a winery just east of Manassas National Battlefield Park. I'm pulling up the details on the winery and I'll access the current satellite footage."

Everyone stopped what they were doing and crowded around behind Peter's station as he mirrored his screen onto the big display screen at the front. When the winery was identified as Heritage Fine Wines, Rig returned to his station and opened a new search for the financial records. Meanwhile Peter accessed the satellite footage and brought up images starting from the day before. It was a little grainy, but Tony whispered in Peter's ear and entered something on his keyboard which greatly increased the quality of the image.

"Peter was in the image database accessible to the public," he explained. "I, um, just linked him to the military feed, as they are higher resolution. None of you saw that by the way. Peter, I think you should download at least a month's worth of images from there then get off of that feed before they notice you."

"On it, Mr. Stark," he said, furiously going through the image database and downloading images to a hidden server.

"I'm getting some information on the winery," announced Rig. "It appears to be owned by several shell companies. Hello, I've seen that one before. Thor?"

Thor moved to Rig's station and looked at the list of shell companies. "Interesting," he said, looking at his fellow agent. "What is a shell company for an arms dealer doing owning a winery? Can you dig further on all of them but focus on that one to start with?"

Rig grinned and began his own finger dance over the keyboard. "Sam, I'm going to give you another name," he said. "Can you start searching that one. It's a gun dealer in Alabama that we've had our eye on for some time."

Sliding back into his station Sam entered the gun dealer's details and began to trace the spider's web of connections between the winery, the arms dealer and the gun dealer. Meanwhile the rest of us returned to our stations, slogging through our own searches.

"I have a match on facial recognition for the fourth person in the vehicle," announced Peter, bringing that information up on another window that was mirrored to the front screen.

Thor left his station and stood in front of it, his hands on hips, and his head shaking angrily from side to side at the image of an older white man, grey haired, with glasses. It was that of a former FBI agent, one known to him by Thor's reaction.

"What the actual fucking hell?" He turned to Rig and their eyes met. The look that passed between them was one of betrayal and anger. "I never expected that." Comparing the image taken from the vehicle and this image, taken from the FBI retired agents database it was obvious the man had undergone some facial surgery as he looked several years younger on the traffic cam image. His hair was darker as well, as if he dyed it.

"Phillip Coulson," stated Tony. "Wasn't he up for the FBI director's position?"

"He was," said Thor. "Both Rig and I started our careers with him. This can't be right. He was as by the book as they come. He took down an entire crime family, for fuck's sake."

Thor left suddenly and Rig shook his head. "Coulson was like a father to him," he stated. "When Thor's own father passed away he was by his side."

I left and went looking for Thor, knowing something about betrayal. I found him just outside the door, his body almost visibly shaking in his anger. As his face lifted up, I saw several tears had formed. Self-consciously Thor wiped them off with his hand, then smiled grimly at me.

"Betrayed," he said. "I feel betrayed, as if everything I ever believed in about the Bureau was suddenly twisted into something dark and evil."

"You were close to him?" I asked.

"Yeah, I'm an agent because of him," he said dejectedly. "I was a frat boy, interested only in the next party, the next keg of beer, the next sweet thing to bed. I was on the football team as well; certain I would have a life of pro football to continue my slide into debauchery. Then he came to give a talk at my college as a guest speaker in a sociology course I took because it would be easy to pass. I don't even know why I went that day as I was hungover from the party the night before, and as an athlete I was guaranteed to pass the course, provided I showed up for half of the classes in the semester. It was a talk about serial killers, part of a segment on deviance in society. It was fascinating, not the serial killer part but how law enforcement finds these people through profiling, and old-fashioned detective work. I actually went up to him after the talk, like a fanboy, asking if he had time to tell me more about the FBI. He obliged me, inviting me to dinner, after we shared a few beers at a campus pub."

"You connected," I said, "because you were looking for some meaning in your life that football and partying wasn't giving you."

"You're very perceptive," smiled Thor, "and correct. He saw it as well. A fire was lit under me that day. I began planning for a life that didn't involve football and in my next year of school I switched my major to criminology. Blew my knee out and never went back to football, except as something to fool around with on a Sunday afternoon with friends. Didn't miss it one bit. Applied to the FBI right after graduation."

He shook his head again in disbelief as if that would clear away this sense of betrayal he was feeling.

"Thor, how long has Coulson been retired?" I asked.

"About two years," he said. "Why?"

"Isn't that as long as you've been investigating these militias?"

"Yeah, we received a tip just weeks after he left ... for a fishing trip in Alabama," he said. "We all chipped in to pay for one of those Gulf of Mexico fishing charter trips. He sent us some pictures; looked like he was having the time of his life. Where are you going with this?"

"When Rig was describing Thaddeus Ross he mentioned that although the man considered himself a law and order type that he often expedited things without waiting for approval," I said, trying to make the connection myself. "Did Coulson have any dealings with Ross?"

"They were equals in the Bureau," admitted Thor. "I know there were times Coulson was angry at how Ross wrapped up some investigations, implying that he did skirt the law a few times." Something hit Thor at that moment, and he pulled out his phone, quickly going through his photo gallery. "What the hell, look who was on the fishing charter. I never noticed before."

He showed me the one image, showing Coulson and Ross, with both men each holding a very large fish. Both were in ball caps and sunglasses. Several other images showed other older men also showing off their catch.

"I know this is a big "if" but what if Coulson found something out on that fishing charter?" I asked. "Something involving retired law enforcement getting into something illegal. Would you have thought Coulson would jump in and join them?"

"No," he said bluntly, after several moments. "He wouldn't but he would have wanted to find out more and then steered the information to the right people."

"People he trusted," I prompted. "Someone he could count on. You received the tip, didn't you?"

"Yeah, it came right to me," he admitted. "Shit, you think he might be deep undercover, all on his own time, risking his own life to continue providing me anonymous tips?"

"Given the type of man you believe he is don't you think that's a more likely scenario than him joining with others who were never as by the book as he was?"

He was still scanning through the images of Coulson on that fishing charter then made another sound of disgust, showing me an image with Alexander Pierce visible in the background.

"I'm an idiot," he grimaced. "These pictures ... they're evidence. He was trying to show me then who else was involved. They've been sitting in my photo gallery, forgotten for almost two years while I chased butterflies." He looked at me. "Thank you for helping me to see things in a different light. Buck is a lucky man to have you in his life."

"I came out here because I know what it feels like to be betrayed by someone you trusted," I said. "I didn't trust John when I first met him then he got under my defences almost to the point of killing me. Rig said Coulson was like a father to you all along. That doesn't sound like someone gone bad. Instead, I think you modelled yourself after him, to be a man in search of the truth. He's trying to give you the pieces to build the case."

With a determined nod Thor opened the door for me and we returned inside. Waving his phone around he announced new information that showed Phillip Coulson was likely the source of the anonymous tip that started this whole investigation.

"I need someone to identify the other men on this fishing charter that Phil went on when he retired," he said. "I have pictures on my phone. We already recognized Alexander Pierce and Thaddeus Ross. There are at least six other men who were on that boat. Investigate the charter company as well. It was based in Alabama. All this time Phil has been feeding me the information like the good undercover operative he always was, and I didn't catch on. He's going to murder me when we get this case closed."

There was a flurry of activity on the computers as several people took on the different tasks. Thor transferred the fishing charter images over to the server, as they were now considered evidence. Lunch was brought in by Happy and everyone worked at their stations throughout the day until we finally identified all of the men who were on that charter, all of them retired from various big city police departments. The fishing charter business, owned by some of the same shell companies that owned the vineyard was also involved. It appeared it was being used as a recruitment tool, as their photo gallery database was hacked into giving us access to everyone who had ever been on a boat owned by that company, most of them connected to law enforcement or the military. There were even several politicians, ones known for their hard-line stance on issues involving sentencing, and protest movements against police brutality.

By the time we called it a day we had uncovered much but had only scratched the surface of what seemed to be a deep-rooted attempt to militarize police services, enable the formation of militias to legally act as private enforcers of the law, all while allowing certain influential citizens the power to control both the police services and these militias. It was the dismantling of democracy in favour of the creation of an oligarchy, supported by right wing thugs who wanted to be judge, jury and executioner. Our gathering at the end of day was quiet as everyone reflected on what had been uncovered that day. I think we all had a sense that we were going up against an overwhelming opponent. Then Tony went to his phone and brought something up. He turned the TV on in the common room and changed the setting on his phone so that the image appeared on the TV screen. It was an image from China, showing the single man standing defiant against a row of tanks sent in to disperse protestors.

"No one knows what happened to this man," said Tony. "Whether he was arrested or not, whether he still lives or was executed by the government; that's lost to history. What counts is what he did. He stood up for what was right. I'm a very rich man. I'll own up to that right now. But I'll be damned if I'm going to allow other rich men to get away with this, men who want power so much that they're willing to override people's rights and impose their own warped version of who gets to live with dignity and who gets tossed on the trash heap. Not on my watch. We're doing this people. We're going to expose this whole fucking conspiracy because that's what it is. Those of you in the FBI and the police department ... these are your people also being recruited into this. You're already here so I know that you have chosen your side. How far are you willing to go when you find out someone you stood with, worked with, and trusted have turned themselves over to this movement? I need to know if I'm doing this alone or if you all have my backs."

"You're not alone," said Bucky, standing up. "I'm in."

"Me, too," said Sam and Joaquin almost simultaneously.

Everyone stood up, me included, as I put my arm around Bucky's waist, and he put his arm around my shoulder. We were all in, willing to stand up against this overwhelming opponent. If one retired FBI agent could immerse himself into that opponent and continue to feed us information, then we were going to make sure we had his back and continue to build the case. Whatever it took.