Reading Time: 85 Minutes

Title: The Unanticipated Burdens (of Vengeance)
Series: The Incredible Challenges (of Tony Stark)
Series Order: 3
Author: startabby
Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Action Adventure, Drama, Established Relationship, Science Fiction, Thriller, Urban Fantasy
Relationship(s): Gen, background pairing of Tony Stark/Kaecilius
Content Rating: R
Warnings: Minor Character Death, Canon Typical Violence
Beta: Grammarly
Word Count: 99,700
Summary: The time has come. Having built up new, stronger alliances following his escape from undeserved captivity, Tony Stark is finally ready to carry out his carefully planned vengeance. But when one desires the utter and complete destruction of very powerful men, the potential for collateral damage can become a real issue. Will Tony manage to fulfill his vengeance properly or will his need for absolute victory cause him to fall, becoming the sort of villain that the Avengers are deployed to defeat?
Artist: kirlika

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Chapter 7: Repeat Visitors

A return to the Sokovian mountains had not been part of Tony’s plans, especially not so soon after his previous visit. But when JARVIS’ efforts had pinpointed the location of their hostile invader’s construction project, it seemed that the remote countryside had once again found itself the site of a foreign conflict. Somewhat ironically, this time it had been Tony’s actions that had summoned the Avengers to the fight.

When he had first uncovered signs of ULTRON’s presence in Sokovia, Tony had assumed that it had teamed up with the HYDRA personnel who had been key in facilitating its recent emergence. But it seemed that if such efforts had been attempted in the recent past, then they would have ended in utter failure. For there was no sign of the esteemed Baron von Strucker or his so-called ‘Red Witch’ anywhere in the area. Instead, it seemed that ULTRON had fallen into the same habits that Tony’s intelligence gathering indicated the scepter’s previous wielder had tried during the last invasion.

In other words, the aliens had once again turned to mind control.

This time, the power of the scepter had been used to take control of seemingly ordinary citizens. Its victims included many of the locals who had previously been shanghaied into service under HYDRA’s yoke, as well as experts from further afield. Controlled by the Mind Stone that Tony knew was embedded inside of the scepter’s heart, they worked alongside a host of SI drones that had been repurposed by the intelligence for construction usage.

Given the level of completion that ULTRON had managed to reach in its project before being discovered, there was simply not enough time for Tony and his allies to prevent the portal’s construction. Not without going far more public than he was comfortable doing at this stage of his revenge operations. So, instead of trying to fight the hostile forces themselves, he had convinced his allies that they should call in the so-called experts. With the frustrated Avengers already primed to fight against ULTRON’s forces, all that they had to do was to drop a few hints into the ears of key SHIELD assets and the heroes were on their way.

Consequently, Tony had found himself back up on the same ridge line where he had watched the Avengers do battle before. This time, however, instead of attacking a fortress, the Avengers were fighting for a much more noble cause. Instead of their vendetta against HYDRA remnants, they now fought to prevent another alien invasion, to stop it before it could begin.

—–

“Hey, Mister Jay, have you finished running the numbers yet? What kind of scale are looking at for the portal?”

“Based on the information that we have obtained from our allies in the fight, along with the template that you mocked up based on both the available material and your metaphysical research, it would appear that the size of the initial portal is unlikely to be much larger than the circumference of a standard theatrical stage opening.”

“So, a couple of orders of magnitude smaller than the one in New York, but plenty big enough for armored vehicles like tanks or battalions of ground troops.”

“Indeed.”

“Well, that is not good news. What do you suppose is waiting on the other side?”

“I’m sure that I couldn’t say, Sir.”

“Don’t be modest, J, you’ve got to have a pretty good guess there?”

For himself, Tony was sure that an army like the one he had seen in the New York footage was already in place on the other side of that thing. What did the experts call them again, the Chitauri?

Since most of those same experts still worked for Fury and his new SHIELD, which had diminished in size but not power, Tony did not doubt that the leaders below were aware and worried about the same thing.

Sure enough, the tone of the fight below made it obvious that the attackers were trying to prevent the final construction of ULTRON’s portal generator. Unfortunately for the Avengers, it seemed that the defenders also had access to the technology that had been used to defend the fortress before its recent destruction. With his Mage Sight engaged Tony could see the distinctive form of the force shield that had been placed around the nearly completed portal generator, one which prevented ranged weapons from reaching inside and taking it out remotely.

Instead, it looked like the only way that the Avengers would be able to get in would be to locate one of the shield’s controllers and steal it from its holder.

This was easier said than done.

Given that the fighters, both human and drone, were controlled by an invisible centralized intelligence; there were no obvious indications who might be holding the shield controls. Not only that, but ULTRON could use the scepter with the Mind Stone to claim control over those who came too close to his primary body during the fighting.

As Tony watched, the fighters down on the ground had begun to cycle between sides. While the battle waged on, people would literally cycle roles between attacker and defender. Whether it was a hard blow to the side of the head prompting the cognitive recalibration necessary to reset a mind, or an encounter with the scepter engaging a fresh set of instructions, such transitions were continually occurring. And with his Mage Sight engaged, Tony could see every single one.

“What exactly is going on here,” a voice came up from behind Tony’s side.

Startled, he let out a yelp.

“Wha…?!” he squawked as he spun around to face the speaker. “Kae? What are you doing here?”

Kaecilius raised an eyebrow, and said, “Isn’t that the pot speaking to the kettle?”

Tony flushed. When JARVIS had let him know about the situation in Sokovia, he’d been in too much of a hurry to let anyone else know where he’d been headed. Instead, he’d taken advantage of the portal anchor that they’d dropped during their last trip to pop over on his own.

It seemed that his lover was less than happy about that fact.

“I – I got an urgent update regarding ULTRON,” he said. “There was just no time to wait.”

Kae’s eyebrow rose further.

“Fine,” Tony said, his shoulders dropping in a slump. “I got excited and… forgot. But it’s not like I was doing anything dangerous. I was just watching.”

“For now. But I would guess that you were being tempted into doing something more.”

Reaching up, Tony rubbed the back of his neck. He couldn’t deny the accuracy of his lover’s words. He had been mapping the best path through the fight to get to the portal generator.

“Well, yeah,” he admitted, “but it’s important to make sure that the invasion fails… right?”

Kaecilius barked out a laugh. Then he nodded.

“You are not wrong, my impetuous one,” he agreed. “But charging in on your own is not the logical response, Anthony. Do you truly want to risk the possibility that your revenge might be jeopardized by your actions? What if one of the combatants below recognized your face, or worse, managed to get their hands on you? Do you want to end up injured, back in solitary, or dead?”

That is…. a good point, Tony had to admit. Why am I so ready to risk everything for this? Am I under the influence of something?

He shook his head.

No. It is just an old habit, the need to solve all issues by myself. I thought that I’d been getting better about that, but this whole situation has had me devolving. Well, then, it seems that I have some humble pie to serve.

So, he simply said, “Sorry.”

It seemed that Kaecilius could read the intent behind the words, as he simply nodded in response.

“Now, then,” he said, waving over the others who had accompanied him through the portal, “What have you observed?”

They turned back to the fight.

—–

Matters down on the ground continued to be a mass of chaos, the force shield and continuous back and forth of allegiances making it difficult to follow the progress. Between the aerial dogfight between the Iron Soldier, the Falcon, and the various SI drones, both those still SHIELD affiliated and those who had been suborned by the mind stone’s virus; and the ground battle with its rotating personnel, there was a constant movement back and forth.

Not only that, but the good Captain himself was behaving erratically, even to the outside observer. He kept interrupting fights to try and talk to his opponent, ignoring threats to his supposed allies as they fought beside him.

Whatever was whispered to him must have been remarkably juicy, Tony thought. For him to be that distracted in the middle of such an important fight. Well, I’ll just have to find out, won’t I? Probably has something to do with his bestie.

Tony flinched at the thought of the Winter Soldier. That was one person regarding whom he struggled to maintain impartiality. While he knew that the mind inside of the man’s body was innocent, the fact remained that his hands were covered in the blood of his victims.

If Barnes remained at large, out of his immediate sight, Tony could manage. So, although he was more than willing to take advantage of Rogers’ obsession with his old friend, he had no desire to bring the man himself into play.

Still, despite the Captain’s distraction, over time it became clear that the Avengers and their allies had the upper hand as they moved ever closer to the heavily guarded force shield. Now the only question was whether they would get through in time to stop the portal from opening.

And… I guess not, Tony thought as his Mage Sight caught a spark of mystical energy. The entity wielding the Mind Stone and its minions had done it. A portal had been opened. But it wasn’t stable. No, the thing which appeared was barely tall enough to let a person pass through.

Without the Space Stone there isn’t much oomph to that thing, Tony thought, just enough for an escape hatch.

“Hey magic man,” he said, turning to look at Kaecilius, “Any chance that you’ll let me get a bit closer? If we don’t go in now, there is no way that we will be able to snag the Mind Stone before it leaves the Earth.”

Kaecilius’ returning look was amused. I know what you’re up to, it said without words. But it seemed that Tony’s argument had worked, as the older sorcerer nodded.

“I am not opposed to attempting a seizure,” he replied. “But we will go in undercover, and if there is any risk of exposure we will fall back.”

Recognizing the wisdom of the other’s words, Tony nodded.

At that, one of their companions reached into a pouch that hung at his side. When he pulled out a handful of carved pendants, a smile stretched across the genius’ face. He easily recognized them. The notice-me-not Wards. Perfect for preventing easy exposure.

“Brilliant,” he said. Then he reached out and claimed one. After the entire party had slipped them on, one of the others reached out with bent wrists. Working quickly, he opened a small portal that led into a darkened room.

Stepping through it to a space behind the group’s martial powerhouses, Tony found himself deep in the ruins of the Sokovian fortress. When he glanced out of the opening that had once been a window at the room’s side, he could see that they were a stone’s throw from the heart of the fighting. From that vantage, he could see both the generator and the portal beyond. The blue of the force shield that protected it was flickering, a sign that the generator inside could not handle powering both it and the portal for very long.

“Wait for it,” Tony whispered, keeping his voice low to avoid overwhelming the Ward’s capabilities. “We move when the shield drops.

Almost got it, Tony thought, as the shield gave its largest flicker.

But then, just as the blue dropped, giving them an opening to move in and snag the now unprotected scepter from its pedestal in the center of the portal generator, they were forced to tuck themselves back into the sheltered spot. They made it back just in time to avoid being seen by the remaining drones, alien infiltrators, and mind-controlled citizens who were falling back toward the now-fading portal. Hot on their heels were several of the Avengers and their support personnel, led by the intrepid Captain America. Working together, they managed to take out most of the mixed group, but not before their leaders successfully reached the portal’s threshold, snagging the same scepter that Tony had been reaching for along the way.

Damn it, Tony thought as he watched from his hiding spot. I guess that’s one Gem out of reach.

As the final drone carrying the corrupted AI prepared to step through the portal, Rogers yelled out, “Wait!”

Tony watched in disbelief as the man out of time pushed his way forward to the front of the troops and demanded, “What about what you promised? What about Bucky?”

The badly damaged drone let out a rusty laugh, exposed gears grinding as it spoke. “Don’t you know, Captain? Desperation makes such a handy weakness.”

Then it took a final step back, its body fading out of sight along with the portal’s final remnants. As it snapped shut, the remaining hostiles left behind collapsed, almost as if they were puppets who had been released from their strings. It was strangely reminiscent of the video of the Chitauri left behind after the New York portal collapsed, Tony couldn’t help but notice, and he was sure that the SHIELD personnel who had been there would concur.

When he noticed that the SHIELD personnel and soldiers who had witnessed Rogers’ outburst took a moment to eye him up before dividing to begin triage, Tony fought the urge to cackle. It looked like Steve Rogers might have just given him the perfect opening to use to ensure that Fury went down with the others. He would be getting the full measure of his revenge.

Chapter 8: Socialite Agenda

Point-of-View Character: Natasha Romanoff, the Black Widow

“Back in the city, again, I see.”

As Natalia Romanova glanced over at the approaching speaker, she allowed her lips to curve upwards into a small, obviously fake, smile.

“No more international incidents to manage?”

Her newly arrived companion continued.

“Nothing that would be of interest to an intrepid reporter like yourself,” she replied. “My husband and I are merely in town for a social engagement. The galas of high society are hardly your beat, Ms. Everhart.”

“Perhaps not,” Christine Everhart agreed, a similar look stretched across her face. “But the activities of a man like your husband certainly are my business. After all, SI is still one of the most influential weapons manufacturers in the world, is it not? And anything that might affect its ability to operate, including the affairs of its CEO, is certainly within my purview.”

“Now then, Natalie, what say you tell me a little bit about your… social engagement.”

Natalia suppressed a sigh. Despite being well-trained in how to handle the media, dealing with them was possibly her least favorite part of this assignment.

Why do I have to keep this cover going, again? She thought to herself, even as she bandied words with the irritating woman. I know that Fury wants eyes on Obadiah, but still. Did I have to marry the man?

Still, there were SOME perks to being the ‘gold-digger’ wife of a billionaire. The shopping for one.

While Natasha refused to admit it in public, she was, in fact, a not-so-secret fashionista. Her work gave her a very good excuse for the rapidly revolving door of clothes, hair, and makeup that she enjoyed collecting.

And as for the excuse for today’s outing, well, that was an exciting event for both the real Nat and her cover identity. That being the case, it was an easy choice to acquiesce to Everhart’s demands.

“Oh, were you not aware, Christine? I would have thought that a reporter of your… reputation would have received an invitation.”

Nat offered up a syrupy smile, then went on.

“It’s going to be the event of the season, I’m sure. The mysterious Edward Loptsson, making his public debut on the New York social scene.”

About time, too, Nat thought.

In recent months Loptsson had become the talk of the town, the impressive trajectory of his meteoric rise in the world of finance only eclipsed by the mystery of his past. Despite all their resources, even SHIELD had been left scrambling for any hint about the man’s origins. All that was known was that the man had a truly magnificent eye for investing, a willingness to take risks, and a wide network of contacts that he had used to build up his firm, Monte Cristo Investments. These contacts spanned the globe, though many of them were found in the Far East.

As a result, most assumed that he had come out of that region, as a member of one of the powerful families who controlled that part of the world. On the other hand, the Nordic style of the man’s public last name had many of Fury’s finest suspecting that Loptsson was somehow linked to the otherworldly visitors who had made an appearance during the Convergence years before.

For herself, Nat suspected that the man was nothing more than a pretty fiction. A cover for another, hidden, figure to act in the world.

With that in mind, she was very much looking forward to the whole affair. Whether it would be the real Loptsson who appeared or a cover, she did not doubt that she would be able to gain any man’s attention. She was the Black Widow, the seducer of men. All that she needed was the right gown.

Ignoring the irritating presence of Ms. Everhart, who continued to ask meaningless questions, Nat greeted her stylist with a polite smile.

“Natalie,” the woman said as they leaned forward to kiss each other’s cheeks. “A delight, as always. What can I do for you today?”

“An outfit, of course, my darling Matilda,” Nat replied, “something to make me the talk of the town.”

“But of course,” the other agreed. “Now, tell me a little more about what you are looking for.”

—–

Stepping out of the limo and onto the red carpet a couple of days later, the gasps of the crowd outside made Nat smile.

Matilda and her team have outdone themselves this time, she thought as she stepped forward into the wave of sound. They’d managed to find a vintage Chanel piece that accentuated her natural curves in the best possible way, combining it with modern accessories and a small fortune’s worth of gems. As she stepped forward and tucked her arm into her husband’s, Nat was certain that they would be front and center of the society pages.

“Excellent choice, my darling,” Stane murmured into her ear. “Your skills at making an impression are unparalleled. Remind me to thank Fury again, sometime, for offering up such a perfect… companion.”

His voice held a lascivious tone, one that had her suppressing a desire to cringe or shudder.

How I hate him.

Sometimes she couldn’t help but wonder, is SHIELD the right way to clear the red in my ledger?

But now wasn’t the time for such depressing thoughts.

No, right now she had a character to play.

Ignoring Stane’s verbal jab, she stepped forward to speak to the first of the waiting reporters. It was all part of their usual routine, playing up their roles as an ideal power couple. The Avenger and the Businessman.

As an Avenger, the Black Widow was an in-demand personality for a much greater subset of the gathered crowds than her apparently older husband. So, while he was able to get inside the venue relatively quickly, she was forced to stay behind.

Not that she minded. Showing off the hard work of her stylists was a pleasure, not a burden. As she moved and twisted her body from side to side, showing off every facet of the gorgeous ensemble, Nat allowed herself to enjoy the experience.

But soon, her attention was drawn away by a new arrival down at the end of the carpet.

The Falcon.

Unlike Nat and Obadiah, the new Avenger was visibly uncomfortable with the level of media attention that he received as he stepped out of the limo. Still, someone had done a respectable job of getting him all dressed up for the occasion. While not as expensive as some of the other guests, his suit was well-tailored, fitting him well.

Wilson was a handsome man, there was no doubt about that.

Reaching out her hand, Nat beckoned him over to her side.

“Sam,” she said with a smile. “I wasn’t expecting to see you here.”

“Yeah,” he replied, rubbing the back of his neck in an unconscious gesture of embarrassment. “This isn’t exactly my kind of scene, I guess. But when you get a particular invitation from the host of something this grand, it’s hard to say know.”

“Oh?”

That was a surprise.

“I did not know that you were acquainted with Edward Loptsson?”

“Only slightly,” Wilson replied. “We only met one time. But he certainly made an impression on me. Given the invite, I guess that I did the same for him.”

“When was this?”

“Did you ever hear about Miami?”

What happened in Florida recently? Oh, yes…

“Do you mean the discovery of the Mandarin and the truth behind his actions?”

I was not aware that Loptsson or Wilson was involved in that incident. That will require further investigation.

“Exactly,” Wilson nodded. “A friend of mine had dragged me down there for vacation right around when everything went down. Edward happened to be in town at the same time, and as he was already acquainted with Riley, my friend, he invited us out one evening.”

“You are privileged to have met him,” Nat said. “Loptsson is a bit of a mystery to most, so the fact that you have already been introduced makes you a rarity at this point. How did he seem to you?”

“He was,” Wilson hesitated as if struggling to find the right words. “Impressive, I guess. Intellectual, but not arrogant about it. Magnanimous in his generosity. More than anything, he gives off an aura of power, one which I am sure is quite genuine.”

“His connections are impressive on paper, as well,” Nat mused. This would be an interesting encounter. “Then, if you’re already acquainted, perhaps you might be willing to introduce your teammate to him.”

Looping her arm into his, she dropped into a camera-ready pose.

Around them the shutters whirred.

—–

Once she made it inside the venue, it didn’t take Nat long to spot the man of the evening.

It seemed that the other was a showman, himself, for Loptsson was impeccably dressed in a tuxedo that Nat easily recognized as a custom Tom Ford creation. He was surrounded by a bevy of New York socialites, each one doing their best to shove their assets in his direction, fluttering their eyelashes to be coy.

Nat didn’t bother to suppress her eye roll at the sight. As if a man clever enough to succeed at such a high level would be susceptible to such blatant attempts at manipulation.

It seemed that Loptsson agreed, as he looked past the flirting chit between them just long enough to catch her eye before flashing her a smirk.

Cover or not, she had to give the man considerable props for creating a prime image. His suit was perfectly fitted to his lean figure, while the longer hair, pulled back in an old-fashioned queue, gave him an impression of European elegance. Indeed, he fit the expected persona perfectly – perhaps too perfectly…

Now all that she had to do was to talk to him.

Fortunately, it seemed that Nat’s outfit and their earlier exchange had been enough to attract his attention. After deftly extracting himself from the bevy of hovering beauties, Loptsson made his way over to the bar table where Nat had carefully positioned herself earlier.

“Scotch, neat,” he ordered from the waiting bartender, before looking over at her.

“Madame Stane,” he said with a smile, collecting his drink and stepping over to her table. “I was pleased to hear that you and your husband accepted the invitation to my little soiree. From what I’ve heard, your presence here tonight, and approval of the event, is the best way to guarantee its success.”

Someone is keen, Nat thought, pleased. “You are too kind, Mister Loptsson, and please call me Natalie.”

“Then you must call me Edward,” he replied. “And may I say that you are a vision in that ensemble?”

“Why thank you,” she replied offering up her own, far more subtle sultry look, “I am sure that my team will appreciate the compliments.”

That made Loptsson – Edward – laugh.

“Touché, Madame,” he said, “your wit is just as sharp as I was warned.”

As they continued their exchange of pleasantries, Nat’s smile grew more genuine. It was rare to find someone in her role as Natalie who not only could keep up with her wit but was also an enjoyable conversationalist. She almost regretted that she had to treat him as a mark. But that was the nature of her career.

So, when their conversation was interrupted by one of Edward’s staff, who was carrying an active cell phone, she did her job and listened in.

“Yes,” Edward said, impatiently, even as he picked up the phone.

Whatever the person on the other end of the line said, it drastically changed his tone.

“What? When?” he demanded.

The other person said something.

“You have got to be kidding me,” he snapped. “Fine. Fine. Hold off transport for now, let me see what I can do here.”

Another comment.

“I know, I know, a finding like that is not easy to move, but you’re supposed to be the best.”

A pause.

“No, I can’t just leave it where it is. You know how important it is that those Aesir artifacts are brought over…”

Rubbing the bridge of his nose, Edward let out an aggrieved sigh.

“I swear,” he said, “you had better not be lying about this. Get everything ready and wait for my call. I will be in touch shortly.”

Jabbing at the phone he shut it off with another sigh. Handing the phone back to the hovering staff, he reclaimed his glass and took a long sip of the high-end scotch before turning his attention back to Nat.

“My apologies, Madame Natalie,” he said with a wry smile. “But work does always manage to interfere. If you will excuse me, I believe that I had best finish making the rounds before I am once more pulled away.”

“Of course,” she said with a smile.

—–

Throughout the evening, Nat continued to watch Loptsson in action. As she did so, she saw exactly what Sam Wilson had mentioned. That aura of power, the feeling that Loptsson was in control of the situation, was evident in all his interactions.

Even when he spoke with men that Nat recognized as the movers and shakers of the New York scene, from politicians like the Mayor of New York or the CEOs of Fortune 500 companies, he remained polite but with no signs of deference in his manner. Her ‘husband’ and her boss were no exception. Nat watched his brief encounters with both men with a careful eye.

His body language was slightly tense during those encounters, but nothing too noticeable. Since Director Fury and Obadiah’s power and influence were public knowledge, a bit of additional tension was not surprising. Most people took particular care when they spoke to both men.

Unlike most people, however, Loptsson did not show any signs of special attention when the Director introduced him to Rogers. There was usually a level of awe that people felt, meeting Captain America for the first time. But Loptsson appeared unaffected.

As she watched, Nat could tell that Rogers was feeling a bit put out by Loptsson’s lack of reaction.

That man has bought too far into his superhero mythos, Nat thought, suppressing the urge to scoff. Having worked on a team with him for years by now, she was aware of Rogers’ limitations. Sometimes I just want to shake him. He needed to have someone like the slave in Ancient Rome, routinely reminding him that ‘you too are mortal’.

—–

Upon her return to D.C., Nat made her way to the new, public SHIELD headquarters to give her report on the encounter with Edward. While Fury himself had also been in attendance at the night’s extravaganza, Nat knew the importance of adding her impressions to the agency’s records.

Normally she would have been giving her report to her usual handler – Phil Coulson – but when she headed to the briefing room, she was unsurprised to find him absent.

Instead, she was greeted by none other than Director Nicholas Fury himself, his sole remaining dark eye staring into hers with considerable intensity.

“Romanoff,” he said with his usual bark, “report.”

She did so.

When she had finished, Fury ran a hand across his mouth before speaking, his face otherwise stoic in its affect.

But with her extensive experience in spy craft and long-standing relationship with her superior, Nat knew that he was pleased.

“Interesting,” he said absently. “What does Loptsson have that needs to be moved into the country… and what are we going to do about it?”

“Sir?” Nat asked, feeling a bit off-kilter.

What does the Director have in mind?

“It seems that the ‘treasure’ which you overheard Loptsson discussing is not exactly… legal.”

Fury’s smile turned sharp.

“At the gala, Loptsson asked me certain hypothetical questions, about the movement of artifacts with questionable provenance. He was hoping that I, as a man who deals in secrets, might be willing to provide an exchange… Discreet transport across borders in exchange for information.”

Nat hid her reservations beneath her smile.

“And you are going to agree to his exchange. But then…”

“Precisely. Please inform your ‘husband’ that I have received word of an opportunity to gain resources that will aid us both.”

“Yes, sir.”

As Nat got to her feet, preparing to leave the room, Fury stopped her for a moment.

“Agent Romanoff, you are not to speak of anything regarding this business with any of the other Avengers or their support staff. It wouldn’t do for them to be tarnished, after all.”

“Of course,” Nat agreed.

“That especially includes former Agent Coulson,” Fury stated bluntly.

When Nat cocked her head, feigning confusion, he expanded.

“It seems that Coulson has decided to step away from any active role in the agency,” Fury said.

“I understand,” Nat said. When it was clear that Fury was done speaking, she turned back to the door and headed out.

She knew the truth.

When she made it back to D.C., Phil had been waiting for her at her secret, personal residence. He told her about some of the things that he’d found while digging into the comments that their recent foe had made, things that had made him mistrust the true intentions of the ‘good’ version of the agency and even his former hero, Steve Rogers.

“I just can’t do it anymore, Nat,” he had said. “I don’t trust Fury to make decisions that are good for anything more than his self-interest, and his allies, well, they’re worse. You know about Stane’s elimination of Stark, and as for Ross, well, let’s just say that the Hulk’s absence from the Avengers was not his own choice. Even Rogers has shown a severe lack of judgment, with his insistence on the innocence of a man who we both know is one of the most infamous and prolific assassins of the last century.”

Nat was hardly the idealist that Coulson could be, but she understood.

“Say hi to Clint for me,” was all that she had said as he left. She did not doubt that Coulson would be heading straight for the archer’s side.

Love is for children, she had thought, even as she shut her door. But now, she couldn’t help but wish that she had been right there with them.

Why did I accept the offer from SHIELD, again? She asked herself as she walked down the halls. Oh yes, it was because I had no better option. And because Clint asked so nicely. Well, he is not here anymore. Neither is Phil. Perhaps it is time to start thinking about an extraction of my own.

She was the Black Widow, not just another pretty face or even an average Agent without a mind of her own. SHIELD was on the brink of another fall, and this time she didn’t think it was going to survive. And when it did, she refused to be one of the poor suckers who got caught in the crossfire.

Chapter 9: A Tale of Two Allies

As he walked up to the front porch of the rural farmhouse, Tony couldn’t help but be skeptical.

“Are you sure that this is the right place, J,” he asked, quietly.

“So, it would seem,” JARVIS replied. “Former Agent Coulson’s trail was not the easiest to follow, unsurprising given his choice of profession. The only reason that I was able to get this much was that he placed a call to a contact in SHIELD from this location. Even then, it took a voiceprint match to identify Mister Coulson as the caller. If it were anyone other than me monitoring the lines, it is unlikely that they would have gotten so far.”

“Careful, baby boy,” Tony said, teasing, “You wouldn’t want to get a swelled head, now, would you? Even a virtual one could give you a headache.”

“As you say, Sir,” the dry tone was JARVIS’ way of expressing sarcasm. Tony suppressed the urge to grin. Sure, his digital child had been born with a certain level of clever wordplay locked into his base code; it was something that came naturally to all of Tony’s bots. But, in the years of their extended separation, that wry humor had grown and expanded with the influence of the others who JARVIS had come to call friends.

“Oh, sure, keep sassing me,” Tony said quietly before he stepped up the stairs of the covered porch that framed the farmhouse’s front door. Reaching out his hand, he gave a couple of sharp raps on its wooden surface.

As he stepped back, straightening the lines of his suit jacket, he could hear a couple of children yelling, along with the barking of a dog.

Interesting, Tony thought, I never took Coulson for a family man. But then, I’m not one to judge, seeing as I only met him one time, and then it was not under the best circumstances.

Based on what he’d seen in the files that they’d pulled off SHIELD’s servers, he had hopes that the former Agent would make for an excellent resource. There was only so much one could get out of written reports, of course. But from what he had read it seemed like Coulson could be one of the good guys, an exception to the corruption that Fury and HYDRA had together engendered in the organization known as SHIELD.

If so, then he could be a possible ally in Tony’s crusade.

If not, well, then as a former high-level Agent of that organization he could still be a useful resource for Tony to mine.

When the door finally opened, the elusive Coulson was not the one who answered. Instead, Tony was greeted by a middle-aged, moderately attractive, brunette woman. Based on her casual clothing of jeans and a flannel shirt and the baby on her hip, he would wager that she lived here.

Her face, previously relaxed in a casual smile, drew in sharply as she looked him up and down through the distortion of the closed screen door.

Not wanting to give anything away too soon, Tony had chosen to make this visit in the guise of Lord Wilmore. Unlike Edward Loptsson, Ambrose Wilmore’s heritage was far from ambiguous. He appeared to be a minor member of the British nobility, a man whose wealthy upbringing and personal pride demanded a level of respect that far outweighed his actual position. Tony had modeled the character after several such individuals, men who he had encountered in his youth, either through his Father’s business dealings or his mother and godmother’s links to that social stratum. With his exaggerated features, tall stature, slim figure, and sandy blonde hair, even without speaking Wilmore was a perfect picture of a British lordling.

It seemed that the woman staring at him agreed, based on the frown that had spread across her visage.

“Who are you?” she asked abruptly. “An’ what do you want?”

Her sharp tone had startled her child, as the little one in her arms began to fuss.

“My deepest apologies for the intrusion on your… quaint home,” he said, playing up the snobbery. “But I have been led to believe that I may find a Mister Philip Coulson in residence within.”

Though the woman had an impressive poker face, it seemed that the children inside were less careful.

“Someone’s here for you, Uncle Phil!” one of them called out, her high voice easy to hear through the open door.

“Shut up, Lila,” a boy’s voice responded, “You’re not supposed to talk about him around strangers.”

As the sounds of a scuffle, high-pitched squeals, and the thud of impacts against the wood floor were heard, the woman’s face pinched further.

“Children,” she barked.

“Sorry, Mom,” the kids replied.

Sighing, she murmured to herself, “So much for keeping that quiet.” Then she straightened.

“It seems that my children have confirmed your supposition,” she said firmly, “but before I will tell you anything further, I expect certain answers from you. Once again, who are you? And what is your business with my friend?”

“My dear lady…”

“Nope.”

Tony tried again. “Very well. I accede to your terms. My name is Lord Ambrose Wilmore, and I wish to discuss a matter of global importance with Mister Coulson. It is regarding certain… Stones, the reference to which only someone in the know will understand. So, if you would pass those words along precisely, my dear lady, then…”

“No need.”

The door opened wider, revealing the unassuming form of Agent Philip J. Coulson. In stark contrast to the photos from his SHIELD file, this version of the man appeared right at home in the rural environment. Bare feet, well-worn jeans, and a similarly worn, if slightly ironic, vintage Captain America t-shirt were oddly incongruent with the Glock that he held in one hand.

“Wilmore, was it?”

Tony nodded.

“You must have gone through a tremendous amount of effort to find me here. I suppose that the least that I can do would be to hear you out.”

Despite his casual clothing, Coulson somehow managed to still carry the persona that Tony was far too familiar with seeing. He was still an Agent with a capital A. As such, he managed to effortlessly shoo the frowning woman out of the way, open the screen door, and step outside; tucking the gun into the holster which he had in his other hand as he did so. Securing the now holstered gun into position at his waist, he gestured Tony over towards the collection of porch furniture tucked off to one side of the door.

After taking a seat, Coulson leaned back and waited for Tony to do likewise.

Nothing to it, then, Tony thought as he followed the other man’s example. Then, leaning forward, he spoke.

“Mister Coulson,” he began, speaking delicately, “I understand that you have left the employ of a certain intelligence agency.”

Coulson snorted. “If you’ve managed to find me out here, then there is no need to be circumspect. Yes, I am a former Agent of SHIELD. But that does not mean that my loyalty has changed. I am not willing to betray the confidences entrusted in me by my previous employer.”

Fair enough, Tony thought. He would not be interested in Coulson if he were a man of loose morals.

“My dear fellow,” he said, playing into the character, “Let me assure you that my intentions are entirely honorable. I am uninterested in the mundane secrets held by your previous employers. Rather, I represent an organization that is not dissimilar in its mandate of protection, but with a very different area of expertise. Our focus is on those things which extend beyond the mundane and into the supernatural.”

“You mean the Mystic Arts,” Coulson replied.

Tony was surprised.

“I was under the impression that your former employers were ignorant of such things,” he said.

“SHIELD as a whole may prefer to bury their heads in the sand,” Coulson replied, “but that doesn’t mean that all our agents are completely clueless. I believe that I have met several members of your little organization in the past. The Order of the Mystic Arts, is it not?”

While surprised, Tony decided to go ahead and roll with it.

“Quite,” he said. “Then, if you are already aware of our existence, I shall speak freely. Tell me, Mister Coulson, have you ever heard of the Infinity Stones?”

Before Coulson could respond, their conversation was interrupted by an external source.

The subtle sounds of nature characteristic of a place in the country were overtaken by the sound of an approaching vehicle. The sound grew louder, as the vehicle turned off the main road and pulled up the farm’s gravel drive. Tony saw enough to identify it as an older model Ford pickup, presumably a farm truck before it rounded the corner of the house and disappeared from their view. What he could see of the driver matched the truck, flannel, and a worn trucker hat hiding any distinctive features that the man might have.

Neither of them said a word. Instead, they simply listened to the shuddering groan as the engine shut off, the crunch as the driver opened his door and stepped out onto the scoria, and the thud as he slammed the heavy metal door behind him. The steps continued as the new arrival moved across the drive and then up the wooden steps of the wrap-around porch, and down the planks towards them.

But the person who came around the corner was unexpectedly familiar.

Tony suppressed a start when he came into view. Even though their last encounter had been a positive one, seeing the visage of his former guard was a harsh reminder of the years of isolation and misery that he’d experienced in the Oubliette.

What is Clint Barton doing here? I thought that this was Coulson’s family.

Still, more surprises were in store for the disguised former prisoner.

Unlike Tony’s efforts to hide his shock, the other man made no such attempt. Instead, he said, quite bluntly.

“Hey Phil, when Laura called and said that we had an unexpected visitor come looking for you, I wasn’t expecting to see Tony Stark sitting on my porch.”

Wait, what? That’s impossible. How the fuck did he recognize me? There is no way that my illusion is that weak.

Now Tony had to work even harder to suppress his reaction.

Fortunately, it seemed that he wasn’t the only one who was confused by the former SHIELD agent’s words.

“What are you talking about, Barton?” their companion asked. “You reported Stark’s death years ago.”

Well, Tony thought, it seems that the illusion is still partially intact. Maybe Barton was confused?

But Barton insisted. “No. I spent far too much time on guard duty in the Sandbox not to recognize that face. That is Stark, though he does look much better than the last time that I saw him.”

This time, Tony couldn’t help it. He let out a snort, before trying to cover it up with a quip.

“Yes, well, I would certainly hope that my appearance would be better than that of a corpse.”

Clint sputtered.

“That wasn’t… I mean… aw, hell,” he said. “Coulson, I’m afraid that my report on Tony Stark’s demise during my exit interview wasn’t entirely accurate.”

His lips quirked up in a one-sided smile.

“I see,” Coulson replied, his tone dry as dust. “But that still does not explain your response to our guest. This is not Tony Stark.”

“But, sir, can’t you see…”

Now it was Tony’s turn to acquiesce. This was certainly not how he’d expected the afternoon to go, but he’d have to roll with it.

“Fine,” he said, dropping Ambrose’s affect from his voice simultaneously with the disengagement of the Mystical illusions. “I’ll admit it. I am Tony Stark. Now, then, Mister Coulson, does that change anything about our previous discussion?”

“It certainly piques my curiosity,” Coulson replied. “Though I must admit that I am quite happy to see that you are still in the land of the living. Please allow me to express my apologies for the role that I and others in my former organization played in your betrayal.”

“When I learned of the director’s actions, I tried to convince him that his decision to side with Stane in his horrific coup was a violation of our code of ethics. Unfortunately, not only was I unsuccessful in the attempt, but I was also warned that any further complaints would be detrimental to my own life. Nick’s moral center has drifted over the years since I began my work with the organization. Even without the influence of HYDRA to blame, he has continued to take SHIELD further away from its original intention. That is why I had to leave.”

“Me too,” Barton added, chiming in from where he was standing, leaning against the wall of the house beside Coulson’s chair. “Though I got out sooner, ya know. Phil had a bit more history with the place, making it harder for him to let go.”

Tony was oddly touched by the sincerity that he heard in the former Agent’s words. He had wondered how a man with the impeccable reputation that Coulson maintained could have been party to the violations which he had experienced. Now, he had the answer.

“In that case,” he said, faking a level of confidence that he didn’t entirely feel, “I don’t suppose that guilt would be enough to motivate the two of you to help me take down your old boss and his buddies?

Barton grinned and nodded, while Coulson replied, “That would depend. What exactly do you have in mind?”

—–

In direct contrast to Tony’s time in Iowa where he found not just an ally but also some new friends, the next week’s meeting led to more thought. While the intention of the events was similar, the recruitment of a new resource in his scheme for revenge, the outcomes were distinctly different. Instead of leaving confident and pleased, this meeting had left him feeling troubled.

Unlike with Coulson, it hadn’t been necessary to go hunting for this resource. Instead, they had come to him. Or not him exactly. Rather, it had come through an inquiry made to one of the Order’s Sokovian contacts in the aftermath of the attempted alien invasion that had occurred in that country.

While on the surface it looked like a simple search for financial support in the rebuilding of Sokovian infrastructure, a flash of Mage Sight revealed a familiar Mystical signature embedded into the mundane material.

“Check this out, babe,” Tony said, handing the missive to his significant other. “What do you think, is the signature an accident or is it deliberate?”

Taking hold of the rough paper, the experienced Mage turned it this way and that, examining its warp and weft with care.

“Something in the middle, I would say,” he replied. “It does not appear that the sender possesses any formal training. If they had, the structure of the signature would have a certain flavor. Still, the missive does have something Mystical attached to it. A brute force compulsion, obviously intended to encourage the recipient to trust and respond positively to the sender.”

“Not surprising, given the source,” Tony said.

“Indeed.”

“Still, it could be useful to make contact. From what we’ve heard, the Red Witch is rumored to have a goal of vengeance against enemies who we share; Stane, SHIELD, and the others.”

“Quite,” Kaecilius agreed. “I also desire a closer examination of the woman’s power, given what we witnessed in the first battle and its aftermath. It may also provide us with key insights that may finally allow the release of the stasis field around the one in our care.”

“It’s settled then. I’ll have Dmitri make the arrangements for the meeting.”

—–

The Sokovian Capitol of Novi Grad, while not completely decimated by the fight against the attempted invasion, still bore significant signs of the nearby fight. Ground quakes had spread through the region, one of the many consequences of the large explosions. In a country where safety standards took a backstage to need and cost, the city had been partially flattened by the shaking, with cracks and potholes covering many of the roads and buildings which had managed to survive.

It was in one of these buildings where the meeting would take place. Their local contact, Dmitri, had arranged for the use of a backroom in a run-down old bar, a place where it would be easy to ensure that the meeting would remain private. Despite the damage, the space felt authentic and comfortable, with low ceilings in the main room broken up by large wooden beams, trestle tables, and a long bar that ran along one wall.

When they stepped inside, Tony was surprised to find the locals who sat inside greeting them with a happy cheer. No doubt the fact that they were being escorted by Dmitri, who was a member of the community, helped; but it was still, he had expected far less of a warm welcome. In his experience, people who had been through the kind of turmoil that the Sokovians had been through in recent months were closed off and hostile to outsiders. But somehow, these people had managed to hold on to joy.

Since they had arrived a bit early, they took the time to grab a drink and visit with the men and women gathered there.

“So,” Tony asked, as he took a sip of the local brew, “What was it like, here, when the battle raged?”

“To be honest, at first we didn’t know what was going on,” one man replied. “Sure, there was a lot of air traffic moving overhead, but that wasn’t all that different from what had been going on these past weeks. Between the Americans and their attack on the fortress and the military contractors who followed in their wake, there had been quite a lot of movement headed in that direction. Since they mostly left those of us here in the city be, it was easier to just ignore them and go about our lives as if they weren’t there.”

“Of course, that was until the ground began to shake,” another barfly mentioned. “With how far the fortress is from here, for that kind of impact to occur had to mean something big was going on. And when we went out and looked toward the mountain pass, we could see a massive plume of smoke rising from the valley. As the shakes continued, worsening as they went, strange colors began to emerge from the haze. Sparks of something that appeared outside of human comprehension.”

“Not that we could pay much attention to it, by then,” a third mentioned, taking a moment to release a hacking cough. “Given what was happening down here on the ground.”

“And what do you think of it all; now that the danger has passed?”

“Well, it’s just typical, isn’t it? Sokovia has always been the gateway between lands in the past, it does make sense for it to happen again. Though the crazy space portal was new.”

The final comment made the entire bar erupt in laughter, Tony and his companions included.

Then, the front door to the bar opened, and two new arrivals stepped inside. Immediately, any hint of joviality died. The pair was made up of an older man dressed in a medium gray military uniform, sans any sign of insignia, and a younger woman, mid-twenties by appearance, clothed in red.

Thanks to the thorough dossier that JARVIS had assembled, he easily recognized them as the HYDRA leader Wilhelm von Strucker and his protégé, the infamous Red Witch of Sokovia, Wanda Maximoff. Even if he hadn’t known who they were by appearance alone, the waves of corrupting magic visible to Tony’s Mage Sight would have given them away.

Unlike Tony and his party, they didn’t bother to socialize with the locals. Instead, they walked straight up to the bartender and demanded directions to a private room. The audience remained completely silent as they passed through the room and disappeared behind the heavy door.

“Well,” Tony said as he stood up, looking around at the crowd, “That was… interesting. Who was that?”

The man who had coughed earlier turned his face down in a sneer.

“The Ved’ma,” he spat. “HYDRA’s bitch.”

Everyone around him murmured in agreement. It seemed that the rumors that they’d heard were the least of them. Despite being local, there did not appear to be any fondness for their potential new ally in this community.

“HYDRA?” he asked. “I thought they were wiped out?”

“Not around here,” the barman said, walking over to them. “As you are well aware, stranger. I know that Dmitri here arranged today’s meeting with that pair.”

Tony shrugged, “guilty as charged, I suppose,” he said easily. With the single-use disguises that both he and Kae had chosen to wear for this trip, he wasn’t too worried about presenting a particular image. He hadn’t even bothered to create a full backstory for his character. Instead, he was prepared to wing it. “But they were the ones to initiate contact, here. We simply accepted the request.”

“And what is your potential business with such people,” asked one of their new friends.

Here Kaecilius spoke for the first time since they’d arrived. “That is our concern.”

“Then there is nothing more for us to say,” the barman replied.

“Very well,” Tony said. “We had best head over there, anyways. Thank you for your hospitality, it has been a pleasure to visit with you. To offer our appreciation, let us at least buy a round for you all.”

That made the barflies cheer. Tony handed over a bundle of cash to the barman as they got up and headed for the same interior door where the others had disappeared.

Inside, a single round table filled most of the room. Von Strucker and Maximoff were already seated on one side, waiting for them to arrive. Waiting impatiently, it seemed, as Maximoff snapped at them for being late before they could even sit down.

“Nonsense,” Kaecilius replied, the other man having chosen to take the lead on the meeting. “We have been waiting outside, taking the opportunity to get to know this community.”

Though Maximoff scoffed, the Baron looked thoughtful.

“And what did you learn?” he asked.

“That you aren’t the most well-liked around here,” Tony said, speaking frankly. “But that is of no concern to our employer. All that they care about is your ability to deliver.”

“Quite,” Kaecilius agreed. “So, if you would, tell us, why should we partner with a failed branch of HYDRA?”

Again, Maximoff bristled, as if insulted, the weight of her Mystical energy hitting them in waves.

“Don’t mind their words, my dear,” the Baron said, placing his arm on hers. “It is to be expected for potential allies to be skeptical. After all, they don’t know of the successes that you have managed.”

“Successes?” Tony asked.

“In all of your inquiries,” von Strucker said, “Did you ever hear mention of the powerful shield that we created, the one which was able to defend against the might of the West?”

“The one that was destroyed?”

“Not destroyed,” the older man said with a vicious smile, “Deliberately sabotaged.”

“And for what?”

“To set a trap, and one which was sprung so delightfully.”

“The scepter,” Kaecilius said. “You wanted that intelligence to emerge.”

“Yes,” the witch said, “and it did such wonderful damage. Of course, we couldn’t let it fully succeed; HYDRA will not play second fiddle to an outsider. But what it managed to infiltrate, well, that was marvelously helpful.”

“And when it was destroyed, you were able to gain control of the remaining resources that it left behind. Clever.”

Now, both Maximoff and von Strucker wore matching, disturbing smiles.

Interesting, Tony thought, I wasn’t expecting that tactic.

It seemed that Kaecilius agreed, as he asked, “If your plans were so successful, then why bother coming to us?”

“We may have gained considerable knowledge, but as you and your employer are no doubt aware, HYDRA has taken some major hits in recent years. The exposure of so many of our operations in the fall of Alexander Pierce and his head of HYDRA, along with the recent campaign spearheaded by the Avengers and supported by Fury’s re-built SHIELD and Ross’ leadership in the US Army has left us with limited resources. From what my people have been able to observe here in Sokovia, your organization has access to the wealth and manpower that we currently lack.”

I suppose that makes sense, Tony thought. He still wasn’t clear on what they wanted, though.

“If we are to truly take advantage of the access and intelligence that we have gained, we need the use of those resources to bring the fight back to them. Together, we can lead the Avengers and their allies to a fall.”

“And do you have a particular target in mind?”

Here Maximoff spoke again.

“Stane will be destroyed,” she said with a snarl.

That is a surprise, Tony thought. Obie was on HIS hit list, but why would they care? Given how unscrupulous Stane can be, you’d think that he would be a great ally for a branch of HYDRA.

But it seemed that the answer was forthcoming, as the woman went on to say, “He brought weapons to Sokovia that destroyed my home, my family, my people. Once it was Stark who I blamed for their fate, but with the Baron’s help the truth was revealed. Obadiah Stane brought those missiles here; he is the one who killed my parents. For that, he must die.”

As she spoke, the hovering threads of magic that surrounded her strengthened to the point that it became perceptible to the unenhanced sight and the irises of her eyes took on a crimson glow.

Glancing over at von Strucker, Tony noticed a bit of a twist to his grin, one which made him realize, this is all his setup. He is the one who pointed her at Stane. If it weren’t for my presumed fate, then it would have been ME that she desired to target. And if I’m not careful, then it still could be.

Her vitriol reminded him of how he reacted during the worst of his rage, in those moments when the burden of the betrayals which he had suffered lay heavy on his heart. He knew that his friends and family sometimes worried about him, especially in those moments when he focused on revenge. And just like in his encounters with Aldrich Killian, watching Maximoff’s rage was yet another reminder. This time the dangers of an uncontrolled drive for vengeance. Namely, that it left one vulnerable to manipulation by an unscrupulous outsider.

Watching as Kae negotiated a contract with the Baron and Maximoff, one which would help them gain access to the leadership of the Avengers and their allies, the trio of Stane, Fury, and Ross, Tony came to a realization. With the timeline for the culmination of his plans coming ever closer, he had to stay focused. Revenge was important, but it couldn’t be all-consuming. If it was, then he ran the risk of being taken advantage of by those who might have very different goals in mind.

Chapter 10: Navigating Politics

Point-of-View Character: Colonel James Rhodes, the Iron Soldier

For Colonel James Rhodes, walking into the ballroom that night felt a little bit like walking back in time. Attending these kinds of events in his military formal best was something that he used to do all the time back when Tony was still alive. Even now, over a year after his tragic death, the younger man still loomed large in his memory.

He probably always would, James thought.

Tony had been a fixture for most of his adult life, starting from their original meeting at MIT back when they were both in college where Tony was the much younger prodigy while James was the far more ordinary student and ROTC candidate and future officer. Somehow the unlikely pair had built a sibling bond, one which had landed James with his very profitable side gig as the weapons manufacturer’s military liaison.

Ironically, the last event that James had attended in this space had been his promotion ceremony, the moment when he officially reached the rank of lieutenant colonel in the United States Air Force. And Tony had been at his side, on his best behavior in a way that he rarely bothered to maintain during the events which celebrated the genius’ achievements. It had been one of the proudest moments of James’ life and one which he now looked back at with a feeling of bittersweet pleasure.

The path that he’d set himself on had worked out beyond his wildest imaginings, his fame as the Iron Patriot having grown to the point that he had become a household name. But at the same time, it had come at an unbelievable cost. Tony, Gin, Happy, even the merely missing Bruce Banner and Clint Barton, so many of his old friends had been lost in the interim. Even worse, James had sometimes found himself wondering, is my service really on the side of the angels?

Serving under the authority of Obadiah Stane, Thaddeus Ross, and Nicholas Fury; all of whom had shown signs of behavior which followed the structure of ‘the ends justifying the means’, it weighed heavily on James’ mind. Even his teammates, the other Avengers, sometimes left him feeling less than confident in their morality. Just look at Steve Rogers, the man-with-a-plan, with his stubborn insistence that he was ALWAYS in the regardless of the evidence presented…

Staring out across the ballroom, James found himself flashing back to the recent fight against ULTRON and its attempt to establish a terrestrial foothold for its alien master.

—–

“Why is it that clean-up always takes so much longer than the actual fighting,” Sam joked.

James knew that the younger man was trying to distract himself from the tragic sights that surrounded him. They were going through the rubble that was all that remained of the area following the collapse of the portal that led to another world, a place where alien troops were waiting to invade them.

He was thankful that the remote location and lack of previous inhabitants meant that there were not any tiny bodies scattered across the ground. There were still plenty of horrific casualties, particularly among the locals who had been brought in by the wielder of the Mind Stone, killed fighting for it in its efforts to build and defend its portal. Those few hostages still under the invader’s mental influence when the portal collapsed were mercifully released from that state, but by then all too many of them had been lost.

Between injuries sustained due to poor working conditions, necessary harm that was done to them by his people during the battle, and the uncertain fates of those who had passed through the portal before the collapse, the Sokovian survivors were all in a state of severe shock. So, it was up to James and his people, both Avengers and soldiers alike, to come alongside the civilians. If they could save even one life through their efforts, it would be worth it to him.

As he went to shift a particularly large piece of rubble, one that only someone with a suit like his would be able to do on their own, James caught sight of a bit of unexpected movement.

Spinning around, he recognized it to be one of ULTRON’s drones. Without another thought, he spun up his gun and blasted.

“What did you do that for?!” Rogers cried, storming up to him.

Nonplused, James looked at him for a moment, before responding.

“Excuse me?” he asked. “That is one of ULTRON’s drones. We cannot risk the possibility of it escaping, allowing the virus to run free and do further damage.”

“What are you talking about?” Rogers replied. “ULTRON left, remember?”

James shook his head.

“The drone holding the scepter left, yes. But that wasn’t the only part of ULTRON out there. It is an artificial intelligence. Any machine infected with its corrupt code could bring it back.”

Rogers’ face brightened.

“Then does that mean-?”

“Does that mean what?”

“That it might still be able to tell me how to save Bucky!”

—–

It had been a serious wake-up call for James, though not one that was that surprising when he had thought about it.

From the very beginning, Rogers had shown himself to be a selfish man, one who only cared about the people of this time if they agreed with him. At first, James had assumed that Rogers’ stubbornness was due to the extreme culture shock that he was under, the natural consequence of being thrust nearly a century into the future. But as their time serving together grew longer, Rogers’ behavior remained unchanged. Soon, he realized that it was an innate part of Rogers’ personality, one which was not going anywhere.

This strange insistence that Bucky was ‘innocent’ was just the latest manifestation of that intransigent personality. James could only hope that it wouldn’t come out to bite him in the ass.

Fortunately, he wasn’t left to dwell on such thoughts for long. A moment later, his musings were interrupted by a pat on his shoulder.

Spinning around, he was pleased to see his protégé and fellow African American superhero, Sam Wilson, the Falcon. Like James himself, Sam was dressed in military formals, though their wardrobe differed due to their service in separate branches of the military and their wildly differing ranks. Unlike James’ lofty title of Colonel, Sam served as a lowly staff sergeant, a non-commissioned officer. As such, he lacked the measure of control over his destiny that James had earned. Instead, he was still firmly locked in a subordinate role, working as Captain America’s newest sidekick and public relations officer, a hapless job if ever there were one.

“Hey, man,” Sam said, reaching out to shake James’ hand. “Good to see you.”

“You too,” James agreed. “I was starting to get worried that you might have decided to chicken out.”

“Nah,” Sam replied. “I was just helping Riley here get a spiffed up. He is a bit out of practice, you know.”

He patted the arm of the man who stood beside him.

“Oh, but where are my manners, man? James, don’t know if you remember my old para-rescue buddy, Finn Riley. Riley, this is my team lead, Colonel James Rhodes.”

“Pleasure, I’m sure,” James said, a bit absently, before he snapped his fingers, “That’s where we met, back in the Sandbox, right?”

“Right you are,” Riley agreed. “That was back before the accident that left me like this,” here he waved at his absent limb, “So it’s not surprising that you didn’t remember.”

Now that they’d brought it up, James found himself recalling the details of the other man’s background. Badly injured during the incident that had led to the original retirement of the EXO wing project, Finn had been retired with an honorable discharge for medical reasons while Sam had been released from service. Unlike his friend, who had eventually re-upped following the HYDRA reveal, Finn had remained in civilian service.

What had Sam said he did for a living again? Oh, yes, he’d gone back to school for psychology and counseling and is working at one of the D.C. offices for Veterans Affairs, serving as a therapist for his fellow former soldiers.

James allowed his shoulders to relax, releasing the tension that had begun to build.

“I should have,” he said, easily. “Sam is always talking about you, you know.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, the stories that he tells…”

Riley laughed. “That sounds like Sam. He probably didn’t bring up any of the ones where he started it, did he?”

James pretended to think, “Hmm… now that you mention it…”

All three of them laughed together.

“But seriously,” he went on, “From what he has told me, you are the rock that he leans on to keep him sane.”

And James meant it. He knew the importance of having an outsider, someone who wasn’t involved in the fighting, available to act as a listening ear. It was something that he hadn’t truly appreciated, not until he had lost his best friend. Despite all his crazy antics, Tony had been one of the few people in James’ life who had been a constant, perhaps the only one not related to him in some way.

Without Tony, James had found it hard to maintain a balance between his needs as a human being and his responsibilities as a leader and role model in the many communities he represented.

Man, this day has me feeling both nostalgic and depressed, James thought as he continued his conversation with Sam and his friend. It drifted from a discussion of the latest attempted alien invasion and the Avengers’ efforts to stop said attempt, to the mental burden that such fights placed on their participants. From there, it turned to a more general discussion on mental health and the importance of therapy and counseling in battling PTSD, the burden that soldiers and warriors naturally suffered.

The topic was obviously near and dear to Finn Riley’s heart, especially given his connection to the recent mess with the Mandarin and the former AIM scientists. While James had only had tangential awareness of the mess that came from an unscrupulous attempt to sell an unstable experimental treatment as a weapon on the black market, his companions had been far more intimately involved. From what Sam had told him, it sounded like someone trying to fill the void that had been left by the fall of HYDRA.

“I very nearly ended up as one of the poor souls who self-immolated due to an improperly vetted set of human drug trials,” Riley admitted. “The only thing that saved me was availability. The timing of the drug trials conflicted with a previously scheduled event, one which I was unable to move. Instead, one of my friends and fellow amputees accepted the offer. He lost his life thanks to that drug, and worse, he took other innocents out with him. He was well on his way to becoming the most infamous villain that his hometown had ever known when we managed to blow the whole thing wide open.”

“Oh, yes, that business in Miami,” James said. Sam had told him some of the story, enough to explain why he had needed a few weeks of recovery time due to the injuries that he had sustained during the trip.

“Exactly,” Riley said. “Just imagine how devastating that sort of suicide weapon would be had it managed to fall fully into the hands of terrorists. And the fact that our disabled veterans were the ones used to test it, simply monstrous. Those people took advantage of those left vulnerable to manipulation by their physical losses and exit from the military. It makes me sick.”

“Quite,” Sam said, and James agreed. Learning of HYDRA’s infiltration of SHIELD and their role in so many recent tragedies had been hard for him, and he could see that for the pair this was more of the same.

“At least that situation has a relatively happy ending, with the number of casualties relatively low and those responsible behind bars,” James said. “But that’s enough of this depressing talk. We’re here to recognize accomplishments, not dwell on sorrows.”

“Right you are,” Riley said.

A flash of red in the corner of his eye had James turning towards the other ballroom entrance. What he saw there had him doing a rather massive double-take.

“Excuse me,” he said to Sam and Riley, “I just noticed someone that I must speak to.”

Moving calmly but rapidly, James strode across the room. In a few moments, he stood before the pair who had caught his eye.

“Nat,” he said, “you look breathtaking.” Dressed in a gorgeous and tightly fitted ballgown, she did. But despite all of that, it was her companion who demanded James’ attention.

“Clint,” he added, offering his hand for a shake, “It is wonderful to see you again. It has been far too long.”

“You too, Rhodes,” the archer agreed. Then he let out a small gasp as James dropped his professional cover enough to pull the shorter man into a tight hug.

“When Coulson told us about your resignation after the whole mess with HYDRA, I thought something more had happened. But you’re looking well.”

“Yeah?” Clint said, reaching up to rub the back of his neck. “I guess?”

“But tell me, what brings you back to D.C.? Are you just here to visit with friends, or is there something more going on?”

“What?”

“Don’t you trust me, Jim?”

Clint and Natasha spoke over each other, an identical smirk spreading across both of their faces.

James snorted. It was good to see them together again, and in such an apparent good mood, too.

“It’s not a matter of trust, bird-brain,” he said. “Rather, a matter of experience. So, what am I going to have to clean up? Another alien rock causing trouble?”

“Nah, man,” Clint said. “I’m not heading back into the field again. I think that we’ve all learned our lesson there. Though from what I’ve heard I’m not the only one with issues regarding shiny rocks.”

James winced. The whole mess with ULTRON had been an eye-opening experience in more ways than one.

“Fair enough,” he replied. “But how do you know so much about it? I thought you were out of the business?”

Clint’s smirk widened. “Not exactly,” he said.

Now Natasha spoke.

“Then you haven’t heard the news,” she said.

“News?”

“About Coulson?”

James felt his heart drop. “No! What about Phil? He’s not hurt, is he?”

“No, no,” Natasha reassured him. “Coulson’s fine. He’s taking a step back from SHIELD, said that he needed some time on his own.”

“Coulson?”

James was startled. Phil was the ultimate Agent’s Agent, the unflappable man, the one who had remained steady throughout all the Avengers’ ups and downs.

“Surprised me too,” Clint said. “When he showed up at my place. Asked me to come back, be there for the team while he was away.”

“But he’s okay, right?” James asked.

“Physically, yeah,” Clint said. “He’s just… tired.”

And boy did James get that. There had been a few hard years between Afghanistan, the HYDRA reveal, multiple alien invasions, and all the rest. But he couldn’t imagine stepping aside, even if he could do so. The Iron Soldier was too important, as was his place leading the Avengers. There was no one that he could see stepping into the position, at least not right now. Maybe someday, but not now.

“How exactly does he want you to do that?” James asked, feeling a bit confused.

Here Clint’s smirk returned from where it had faded.

“That’s easy,” he said. “I’ve been named the Avengers’ new SHIELD handler.”

James’ brain froze, refusing to process the idea. While he liked Clint, the idea that he could do Coulson’s job just seemed incompatible with reality.

Nat laughed, softly.

“I think that you broke the good Colonel, darling,” she said.

“Don’t worry,” Clint said, his voice taking a wry tone, “I won’t take that personally. I know that I haven’t exactly shown myself capable of it, not during my time on the Avengers’ roster.”

He shrugged before his body language underwent an unexpected shift. Suddenly, he looked like a proper spook, an impersonal intelligence Agent.

“If you have questions about my capabilities, Colonel Rhodes, I would be happy to provide you with the relevant proof. I promise you; I am more than capable of handling the Avengers’ missions. Director Fury would not have allowed former Agent Coulson’s recommendation to stand otherwise.”

Startled by the change, but accepting it nonetheless, James nodded.

“Well then, welcome back to the team, Agent Barton,” he said. “When will the transition be announced to the rest of the group?”

“It will be announced during our team meeting on Monday.”

This time it was Nat who replied.

“Deputy Director Hill believes that a formal transfer will be key to managing the, shall we call them less professional, members of our cohort.”

Nat’s remark had James biting back a strangled laugh. He knew exactly what she meant. He had done his best to guide one Steven Grant Rogers into the proper attitude regarding authority, but the man-with-a-plan had proven incapable of being anything more than a loose cannon. Phil Coulson had proved himself adept at handling the man’s stubborn personality through a mix of ‘fanboying’ over Captain America’s legacy and the ability to convince him that the tasks he needed to do were ‘his’ idea. But that had grown more difficult in recent months, as Rogers’ focus had turned ever more towards reuniting with ‘Bucky’.

Perhaps that was part of the reason for Coulson’s departure.

“I’ll assume that you have a plan,” was all he said. After offering Clint another handshake, this one in congratulations, he moved on.

—–

Making the rounds through the increasingly populated ballroom, James made sure to greet the various senior military officers in attendance, including the Joint Chiefs, with all the honors appropriate for their advanced rank. He also shook hands with several Senators and Congressmen, as well as more than a few of the wealthy socialites and celebrities that he was accustomed to seeing at galas and charity events, not military ceremonies. But then, the Avengers were seen as more than just soldiers, so it was not that surprising. Captain America had been an icon since the forties, and in the modern era, superheroes had become even more influential.

And ‘speaking’ of the man, James had just spotted the good Captain himself, in conversation with Sam and his friend Riley, along with an unfamiliar figure.

Well, James thought, metaphorically girding up his loins, I’d best go make sure things are okay over there.

“Sam,” he said, stepping up to the younger man’s side, “Steve, Riley.”

He nodded to the others.

“Colonel. How is everything going?” Sam replied with a smile, while Rogers’ response was a nod and a single word, “Rhodes.”

“Well,” James replied. “Might I trouble you for an introduction to your companion? I don’t believe that we have met?”

“Of course,” Sam said, “I had been hoping to have that chance for some time. Colonel James Rhodes, allow me to introduce Mister Edmund Loptsson.”

“Charmed, I’m sure,” the stranger said, offering his hand. His apparel spoke of excess wealth, while the name and accent indicated a northern European heritage.

The mysterious investor, James recalled, the one who helped Sam and Riley with that business in Miami.

“It is my pleasure to meet you,” he said, shaking the man’s hand. There was something strangely familiar about him, even though he was sure that they’d never met. “Sam has spoken quite highly of you, and Monte Cristo Investments has been the talk of the New York social scene. It is impressive how you have managed so much success in such a short time. One would almost think that you had an angel on your side.”

“Nothing so esoteric, I’m afraid,” Loptsson said, his eyes twinkling. “I simply have a knack for information gathering; that and market analysis.”

“Still,” James said, “I have to admit that I had not expected your attendance at this event.”

“It just so happened that I was in town this weekend,” Loptsson explained. “When Samuel reached out with the invitation to this engagement, it seemed a moment of perfect serendipity. Once I was made aware of the full significance of tonight’s event, how could I not arrange to attend and support my young friend?”

It probably really had been that easy, James thought. When you have that kind of money and influence, people bend over backward to cater to you.

Not that he minded.

Between Sam’s stories and the rumors which had been flying through SHIELD, James had been disappointed that he had not had the opportunity to attend Loptsson’s official ‘coming out’ party in New York some weeks before. It had been a matter of bad timing, as the event had conflicted with a military mission, one that had taken both James and General Ross out of the country.

“Well, then, I am glad to have the chance to officially make your acquaintance,” James said, offering the other man a polite smile. “From what Sam has told me, it sounds like you have done our team and this country an invaluable service.”

“Not at all,” Loptsson replied. “It was my duty, as an honorable man, to expose the perfidy that was occurring. And to do so alongside such noble men as Samuel and Riley was my privilege.”

While Loptsson’s tone was highly formal, James could see a twinkle in his eyes. It was clear to him that the other man was poking a gentle form of fun at the others. But it seemed that the subtlety was beyond their conversational partners, as Rogers chimed in with an unnecessary, ‘hear, hear’.

James smothered the instinct that he had to laugh. Instead, he gave his head a subtle shake and offered the other man an unamused look. It was strange, but he felt more comradery with the stranger than he did with some of his teammates.

“I do beg your pardon, but I believe that we are being encouraged to claim our seats for dinner,” Loptsson commented as one of the service staff went up to tap the microphone and the speakers let out a musical tone.

It seemed that Loptsson’s ticket didn’t come with a seat at their table. Instead, he headed off to one side of the room while James, Sam, Riley, and Rogers made their way toward the center. Appropriate given the occasion. Tonight, they were celebrating the accomplishments of the military troops, including Sam and James himself. Men and women who had performed great service in repelling the alien invasion.

Sam, the star of the night, would be receiving the Congressional Medal of Honor for his bravery in shutting down the portal generator, ensuring that the enemy couldn’t establish a permanent foothold. It was an honor that was well deserved, in James’ admittedly biased opinion. And General Ross, as the military leader in that fight, would be the one to give it.

Chapter 11: Power and Perception

It was a tad surreal, Tony thought, to be back in D.C., especially here at the Grand Ballroom.

This was the start of the end game, the time when all the planning comes together to bring about the ultimate downfall of those who had destroyed his life. Edward Loptsson gave him the perfect face to play this game, with the reputation and wealth tailor-made to entice the attention of his targets. Despite all of that, it was a little bittersweet, to be working against the man who had once been his best friend and brother.

Rhodey.

Looking at him, all fancy and shit and full of confidence, it reminded Tony of the old days when they used to double-team these things. The man had some serious skills in the art of schmoozing, especially when it came to the military mind. Back when they were working together in the weapons business, it had served them well.

In his new life as a bona fide superhero, it seems that the same strategy held true. James Rhodes moved through the banquet hall like a man on a mission, shaking hands and taking names. And all along the way, he left people smiling behind him.

In the meantime, Tony had his own agenda to pursue. Unlike Rhodey, who was an equal opportunity schmoozer, he had specific people in mind. With Stane absent tonight, Fury and Ross were his priority. He knew that Fury was already following his lure, the rumor of an illegal and valuable treasure that he’d dropped in Natasha’s ear at the gala some months ago. Now he just had to set the hook.

Glancing across the room, Tony easily spotted the first of his targets. Even if he hadn’t already known the man’s face, the iconic black eyepatch and leather trench coat were unmistakable. Tony had no doubt that the Director was aware of that fact, and in fact, had come to rely on it.

In the fallout from the exposure of HYDRA, especially its extensive infiltration into the intelligence agency led by one Nicholas J. Fury, the spymaster had been forced to come out of the shadows and into the public eye. With the former Director and US Secretary of State, Alexander Pierce, and his involvement in the villainous organization becoming common knowledge, SHIELD needed a new public image to regain the trust of the people.

Relying on the currently gilded reputation of Captain America and the Avengers was not enough. Instead, Fury and his crew of spin doctors had parlayed the Director’s ethnicity and HYDRA’s heavy Aryan, read Nazi, reputation, along with a carefully curated biography and missions vitae. These files, carefully inserted into the massive volume of leaked SHIELD data flying around the internet, set him up as a direct counterpoint to Pierce. A man who managed to balance the skill and ruthlessness necessary for running an agency like SHIELD with an iron-clad set of principles. The one who set Captain America, the Black Widow, and the Falcon on the path to the exposure of HYDRA and the reclaiming of SHIELD for the side of the angels.

It was this heroic version of Fury and SHIELD who came alongside the Avengers and the US military in their fight against the villains of HYDRA, the evil which had compromised their organization’s noble agenda for so many years.

Ugh. It makes me sick, just thinking about it, Tony thought, suppressing the urge to shudder. He’d seen firsthand what Fury could do, and it was far from the rosy picture painted for the public. But soon, he reminded himself, soon Fury will be exposed for the villainous fraud that he is.

Striding across the ballroom, he approached the other man. “Director Fury,” he said, as his target turned to look at him, “Might I have a moment of your time?”

“Mister Loptsson,” Fury replied, “I had hoped to see you here.”

“You as well,” Tony said. “How is everything going, with the clean-up from the mess in Sokovia? It was quite shocking to learn that our globe had once again been the target of an alien invader. One must wonder what our little blue dot might provide, compared to the universe at large.”

While Fury’s smile hinted that the other man possessed some secret knowledge regarding the value of the Earth, Tony didn’t trust it. He knew that the Earth’s place as the intersection point between the massive wormhole that linked the planetary bodies which made up the branches of the Great World Tree, Yggdrasil, and the broader universe made it a valuable commodity. But that was not common knowledge among the mundane communities.

It was entirely possible that the master spy had managed to learn of their planet’s true value, but Tony doubted it. Instead, he suspected that Fury’s superior look was entirely put on. Still, he allowed himself to appear convinced.

“Indeed,” Fury agreed, maintaining his superior smile. “One would hope that the invaders would have learned their lesson. The Earth is not an easy target, not as long as the Avengers are on call.”

Tony fought the urge to roll his eyes.

What an ass, he thought.

“On another note,” he said, instead. “I was hoping that I might be able to take advantage of your organization’s expertise.”

“Oh?” Fury said. “To what do you refer? SHIELD does excel in any number of areas.”

Once again, Tony had to will himself not to react.

Instead, he replied, “Your skill at handling artifacts that may have extra-terrestrial origins. One of my firm’s members has recently acquired a rather remarkable collection of items, some of which bear distinctive markings. These marks appear to match the records of what I’ve seen coming out of Sokovia.”

Fury’s eyes gleamed, likely at the thought of gaining access to valuable material.

What the ‘ultimate spymaster’ didn’t know was that the collection was a plant. While there were a few items that had come out of Loki’s cache of goods, most of it was junk. However, Tony had already made arrangements with von Strucker and his witch. Having her in position as a guard for the treasure would allow her to meet some of Fury’s people. With the right act, her path into SHIELD, and if they were particularly successful, the Avengers, would be clear.

—–

After wrapping things up with Fury, it was time to move on to his second target of the evening.

Ross.

Thankfully, he already had the perfect way in.

“There you are, Mister Wilson, Mister Riley,” Tony said as he walked over to where the pair stood talking with Ross and Steve Rogers, Captain America himself.

“Edward!” “Mister Loptsson,” Wilson and Riley spoke over each other for a moment. Then, exchanging a quick glance, they sorted out who would speak.

“Glad you were able to make it,” Sam said. “I was a bit worried that the invitation might not have gone through properly, especially given the last-minute notice.”

“It was pure serendipity, my friend. Not only was my schedule open for the evening, but I had other business here in the American capitol which made the trip an easy choice.”

“Regardless,” Sam said, “I do appreciate it. This whole thing feels a bit unreal; you know.”

I suppose that I do, Tony thought, if for different reasons than Wilson.

“Nonsense,” he said. “From what I have read, as well as my own experience with your bravery and conviction, this recognition is well deserved.”

Wilson’s flush was harder to see on his darker skin than it would have been on Tony’s own fair complexion, but the disguised genius had no trouble identifying it. From his place at the man’s side, Tony also noticed Riley offering a teasing nudge.

“Exactly,” the veteran said, agreeing with Tony’s statement. “You’re a badass, Sammy-boy.”

Then he remembered who else was standing there, participating in the conversation.

“Oops, pardon my French,” he added.

“Not at all,” the military general replied. “Believe me, I have heard much worse in my years of service. But if you wouldn’t mind introducing me to your friend…”

“Of course, Sir,” Wilson said. “General Ross, this is the brilliant investor and owner of Monte Cristo Investments, the rising star of the New York social scene, Mister Edward Loptsson. Edward, the General is my commanding officer, the one who serves as military oversight for the Avengers and their numerous military support teams.”

“Charmed, I am sure,” Tony said, offering his hand with Edward’s customary formality. “You must be so proud of your people, managing to fight off yet another alien attack.”

He shook his head, “Good gracious, that is still such a peculiar phrase to utter…”

Everyone in the group laughed politely.

“It is,” Ross agreed, “and I am. The men and women who serve in our armed forces are a credit to their training, especially those under my command.”

“Quite. I have seen much of the footage that was released, and it is an impressive collection of data. Out of curiosity, however, I did have one question.”

“Oh?”

“Whatever happened to the green beast, the one who did such damage to the enemy in the first of these… invasions? The rumors regarding his absence from more recent events are quite wild. No one seems to know what became of him.”

The mention of Banner made Ross stiffen. Not a lot, to be sure, but enough that an observant eye, like Tony’s, could see it. But it was Rogers who spoke.

“You mean the Hulk?”

Tony nodded.

“Oh, well, you’ve seen the New York footage, right? His skills aren’t exactly subtle, are they?”

“I suppose…”

“For a fight like New York, with its large scale, the Hulk makes sense. But these other attempts, they never reached that level of intensity.”

“I see,” Tony said, slowly, as if he were processing the thought. “Then the beast has been kept as a reserve?”

“Exactly,” Rogers nodded, flashing a practiced smile.

Tony wondered if that was what Rogers really believed to be true, that Banner was living a life of quiet anonymity, ready to be called up when needed, or if he had some inkling of the reality of the situation.

At least as far as Ross was concerned, the destruction of the compound where the Hulk had been held was the result of the monster’s breakout. His people were out searching for a monster on the run, hiding with no one other than, perhaps, the younger Ross as his companion.

Over the months since the successful rescue, Tony’s allies in the Order had laid any number of false trails, each one sending the General off on a wild goose chase. At the same time, the former prisoners, both Hulk and his beloved Betty, had been safely and comfortably ensconced in the Hong Kong Sanctum. There they spent their time learning the Mystic Arts and helping Tony and his other allies lay the groundwork for Ross’ ultimate take-down.

Glancing over Ross’ shoulder, Tony spotted the familiar form of one Christine Everhart, listening keenly to their conversation. He had primed her for the night by sending an anonymous tip, one which asked some of the same questions that he, as Edward, had just raised, and hinting that there might be something more to the story. Now to initiate the charge.

Reaching into his pocket, he pressed a button on the side of his phone. That button triggered a message, one that was to be sent by JARVIS to one of his allies in Southeast Asia. A few moments later, the General’s cell phone went off.

“Ross,” he snapped, answering it.

From inside the phone, Tony could barely make out the sounds of someone speaking.

“This had better be important,” Ross hissed into the phone, while at the same time throwing an ‘apologetic’ glance toward Tony and the rest of the group.

As the speaker on the other side of the call continued, Ross’ face underwent a dramatic change. It morphed from a casual and polite mien into something far more sinister. At the same time, a ruddy color began to spread across his face.

“And you’re sure that the sighting is genuine this time? I won’t tolerate another round of chasing green shadows.”

“…”

“Fine, you have the authorization to start preparations. I will call you back shortly, once I am in a more secure location.”

Ross snapped his phone shut.

“Begging your pardon, gentlemen, but it seems that something urgent has come up that I must check on right away. Hopefully, I will be back in time for the ceremony.”

“Of course, General,” Rogers replied. “Do you need any Avengers support?”

“Not at this time, Captain,” Ross said. “But if action is required, I will let you know. Now, if you gentlemen will excuse me?”

And not waiting for a response, Ross went rushing off.

“Well,” Tony said, “That was unexpected. One would certainly hope that interruptions would not occur on such an important evening. But I suppose that is part of the responsibilities of a military leader.”

“Especially a good one like General Ross,” Rogers said, offering his enthusiastic agreement. “If we’d had more men like him during the war, maybe HYDRA wouldn’t have been so successful in their tactics. If so, then Bucky wouldn’t have had to fall.”

Despite the usefulness when it came to his plans for revenge, Tony had to struggle not to stare at the non-sequitur. He had heard of Rogers’ obsession regarding Barnes, but to see it live and in person was a bit disconcerting. It seemed that both Wilson and Riley agreed, as they shuffled their feet uncomfortably.

“Maybe so,” Wilson said, “but we will never know what might have been. All that we can do is move forward, looking towards the future.”

“Well said,” Riley agreed. “Speaking of, I believe that the immediate future calls for another drink.”

Looking around, he beckoned over one of the waiters. The man had a tray filled with glasses of champagne. Each of the four collected a fresh glass, having set their previous drinks aside.

As they were taking a sip, a new member joined their party.

Rhodey.

He must have noticed Ross’ departure, and wanted to make sure that there wasn’t a problem, Tony thought. That is just like him.

Their conversation lasted no more than a minute or two before they were interrupted by the dinner prompt. Still, that little taste was enough to tug at Tony’s heartstrings. Despite everything, he still struggled to see Rhodey as an enemy, not like Stane and the others. Especially as the research that he and his allies had done all indicated that the older man was, at worst, misled by those around him.

—–

But even the presence of an old friend was not enough to distract Tony, not when he was on a mission.

Instead of taking a seat at his assigned table, he walked past it towards the doors that led out of the ballroom. If anyone asked, he would have euphemistically spoken of a run to the bathroom. But with everyone else heading for their seats, Tony was left unmolested on his way out of the room. From there, it was the work of moments to duck into one of the small meeting rooms off to one side.

“How are we doing, babe?” He said as he pulled his phone from his coat pocket and held it up to his ear.

“We are doing excellently,” Kaecilius replied. “Events in Asia have taken an interesting turn; our ‘rumor’ of the Hulk has turned into an actual mission with the recent natural disaster there. Both the Hulk and his Betty made significant contributions to the rescue efforts that the Hong Kong Sanctum brought to the area.”

“Oh?”

“The Hulk’s strength has been a blessing widely visible amongst the rescue efforts, especially when it comes to moving massive chunks of debris, while Doctor Ross’ medical knowledge has been invaluable in the triage tents. And with their very visible presence on site, we didn’t even have to be the ones to leak their presence. Ross’ contacts did it for us.”

“And the departure?”

“Via portal. There is no way that their return to Hong Kong was traced. It will appear as if they vanished into thin air.”

“Excellent.”

“One other thing,” Kaecilius added. “Wong let me know that he had another surprise volunteer in the disaster relief efforts.”

“Oh?”

“You remember our Sokovian refugee, the one tethered to the Space Stone?”

“The one who the Ancient One has been trying to release from a protective stasis?”

“Precisely. It seems that the Mystical energy released out into the Earth’s environment with the collapse of ULTRON’s portal gave them the boost they needed to bring it down.”

“And…”

“And, given his Enhancements, they were able to feed enough energy into his cells to enhance their ability to heal. As a result, Pietro Maximoff has returned to a state of peak physical performance.”

“That is excellent news. Why is this the first that we are hearing it? Especially with the other day’s encounter, the one where we met the other Maximoff.”

“Again, I’m hearing this second-hand from Wong, but what he said was that while the man’s physical body reached the ideal state within hours, mentally his healing is still ongoing.”

“The Witch?”

“Indeed. She didn’t directly attack his mind, not like some of the others that we’ve seen. It’s more of an indirect cost. The burden of watching one’s loved one fall to corruption is not an easy one to bear.”

Though Tony couldn’t see it, he was certain that the older man had a bittersweet smile. It was something that they both continued to fight towards, the challenge of finding and maintaining mental balance while working through both intense grief and rage. He knew that Kaecilius had once been drawn towards the darker side of the Mystic Arts, and Tony himself still struggled with a destructive rage against those who had betrayed him so severely.

“Understandable. Then he doesn’t share her psychosis?”

“Not as far as I am aware. According to Wong the nature of the Enhancements which he has received, along with the protection of the Space Stone, allowed his mind to handle the consequences of an encounter with the overwhelming power of the Mind Stone.”

“Good for him, I suppose. Did Wong give any indications as to his long-term plans?”

“Not as such, though he did mention a developing friendship with Hulk, one built on shared experiences.”

“Interesting.”

“Indeed.”

“I should probably be getting back to the banquet hall. Is there anything else that I need to know before I go?”

“Not on my end.”

“Okay. Sounds good. I’ll talk to you later.”

Kaecilius offered his farewells, and Tony hung up. Sliding the phone back into his suit pocket, he took a breath, resettling himself into the character of Edward Loptsson. Then, he headed out of the room.

—–

As he turned the corner into the vestibule by the nearest entrance, he was surprised. It seemed that their efforts in claiming the General’s attention were more successful than anticipated. The Army man stood there, talking to one of his aides and shrugging into a less formal uniform jacket.

“General? You’re not leaving, are you?” Tony stated more than asked. “I thought that you were on the schedule to present this evening.”

Tony was quite sure on that front. He had worked with JARVIS to make arrangements, both to ensure the General’s presence for the earlier conversation as well as for Sam’s sake. Despite himself, he quite liked the younger man. Sam Wilson deserved the chance to receive public recognition and awards at the hands of his commanding officer.

In a different life, a world where I was the one in the armored suit, perhaps we could even have been friends.

“Unfortunately, I will be unable to remain. Something more important has come up.”

“That is indeed unfortunate. Nothing terrible, one would hope?” Now Tony was doing a bit of digging.

“Not at all,” Ross said, his voice a mask of smug superiority hiding… something… concern perhaps? “I have merely received a news update; information which has made immediate action on an ongoing mission necessary.”

Someone’s antsy, Tony thought. I guess that re-capturing the Hulk is important to him, maybe more than I had anticipated.

Not that Tony minded. Anything that kept Ross distracted and possibly even off balance would help in the long run.

“Well then, it was a pleasure to meet you and I will leave you to your business, General Ross.”

As Tony stepped away from the man, he noticed a familiar blonde hovering around the corner, just out of view of the military contingent.

With Everhart on the case, your little mission will soon be public knowledge.

Tony pushed Ross to the back of his mind; he had other business to come; waiting inside of the banquet hall.

—–

Taking a seat at his assigned table, Tony found that Edward’s companions included the Wakandan pair of Nakia and N’Jakada, aka Erik Stevens. While neither of them was fully in the ‘know’, as it were, they were part of the general alliance that Kaecilius and the Order had helped him to organize. To them, Edward Loptsson was an ally, one who had been vetted by their mutual acquaintances, the Sorcerers of the Order.

He had previously met with Nakia in her official role as Mercy, the Wakandan liaison with the Maria Stark Foundation, but Erik was officially an unknown party.

“It is a joy to see you again, Ms. Mercy,” Tony said. “If I may be so bold, you are a stunning vision of elegance this evening.”

The statement was not hyperbole.

While not as striking as the golden gown that she’d worn all those years before, back when she had been on his arm as Tony Stark, the deep emerald color and figure-flattering shape of tonight’s outfit made for a very enjoyable view. And as her escort, Erik was no less of an attractive figure.

It seemed that the night was an occasion to put Wakanda’s wealth on display, as both wore jewelry with the distinctive blue-silver shine of refined Vibranium. In Nakia’s case, as a statement necklace and earrings, while Erik wore a tie bar and cufflinks. Were anyone outside of that country to try and acquire such pieces, they would be spending millions.

Of course, given that this was Wakanda, Tony would be that the pieces were more than just bling. Wakanda’s technological advancements were rooted in Vibranium’s unique properties, which included the ability to compress complex electronics into a minuscule amount of material. From integrated coms undetectable by most Western technology to weapons and force shields, all of it was possible. But that was none of his business tonight.

“Why thank you, good sir, for the compliment,” Nakia replied. “It is a pleasure to you as well, Edward.”

“Who, might I ask, is your lovely escort this evening?”

Nakia smiled; a lovely thing. “Edward Loptsson. Allow me to make known to you Prince N’Jakada, newly returned to Wakanda’s bosom after being raised outside of our domain. My prince, this is Edward Loptsson, one of the Usapho Foundation’s newest partners.”

“Just call me Erik, man,” the prince said. “I’m still getting used to all of these fancy titles and shi- I mean, stuff.”

A titter went around the table at the younger man’s near faux pa, something that Tony was sure had actually been a deliberate action.

“Then I am Edward,” he replied. “Tell me, what brings you out to tonight’s event?”

“I am here to support a friend,” Nakia replied, “The good Colonel Rhodes. We have done quite a bit of work together over the years. He took on a larger role in the work of the Maria Stark Foundation following the tragic breakdown of the younger Stark, our mutual friend Tony. And, as a former member of the American military, my prince offered to serve as both an escort and an interpreter for the esoteric details associated with the event.”

“Oh?” Tony asked. “Pardon my curiosity, but how did a member of another nation’s royalty wind up in the service of the United States government?”

“My mother was an American citizen,” Erik explained. “I was born here in this country. When I lost both of my parents at a young age, my identity as the nephew of the Wakandan monarch was misplaced in the turmoil of the time. It wasn’t until recently that we were able to uncover the truth.”

“How unique,” one of their tablemates commented. “It sounds like something out of a work of fiction.”

“Doesn’t it just,” Erik replied, with an amused expression. “But let me assure you that it was no joke. Spending my teenage years as a Black boy in the American foster care system was a drastic contrast from the life that I would have led in my father’s homeland, and joining the US military right out of high school was much the same.”

His smile grew shark-like in its form.

“The lessons that I learned in that organization have served me well in the years since I left. Now I am proud to pass that knowledge on to my newly re-discovered homeland.”

The mood at the table sobered, with many of those present looking discomfited by the oblique references. A discussion of such matters was not the norm at these kinds of events.

Though internally amused by the young warrior’s audacity, Tony chose to break the tension instead of allowing it to continue to build.

“Well, that is all very exciting,” he said, acting deliberately oblivious to the undercurrents, “and I would love to hear the full tale at a later time. But for now, perhaps we had best turn our attention to other matters.”

“I quite agree,” Nakia said, laying a hand on Erik’s. “We are here this evening to celebrate the success of the Avengers and their recent work to repel another alien invader, after all.”

And with that conversational gambit, the mood at the table began to ease. As the servers came around with the first course of the night, a number of smaller conversations broke out. Tony continued to visit with Nakia and Erik, finding the younger man an interesting character beyond the similarities in their experiences.

I quite like him, he thought. Even more than I thought that I would. Perhaps, once my revenge is complete, we can become better acquaintances.

—–

When the time came for the awards to be given out, Tony noticed that Rhodey had begun looking around, a bit frantic. It seemed that Ross hadn’t given his old friend any notice of his absence.

Well, Tony thought, that simply wouldn’t do.

Getting up from the table, he walked over to where one of the event coordinators stood with a clipboard in hand and headset on.

“Pardon me,” he said, speaking quietly to keep himself from being heard by the nearest table of guests, “but I was not certain if the General has informed your people of a change to the presenters this evening. I ran into him right before dinner started and it seems that he has been pulled away for urgent business.”

“What?!” The woman said, letting out a strangled shriek. “No, no, nothing.” She flipped through her notes, hissing into the headset as she did so.

“What are we supposed to do?” she said more than asked. “There’s no backup that I’m aware of. We need to send someone up to talk to the Colonel.”

“If you do not mind waiting,” Tony interrupted her frantic search, “but I did not merely come to you with the news. I do have a solution, as well.”

She paused for a moment, raising her eyebrows.

“And who exactly are you?” She asked, suspiciously.

“Begging your pardon, ma’am,” he said. “It was impolite of me to fail to introduce myself. I am Edward Loptsson, a friend of the primary awardee this evening. When I spoke to the General before he left, I offered, and he agreed that I would be permitted to step in and speak on his behalf.”

“Excuse me?” The woman sounded skeptical until a voice came through the headset. Then her shoulder’s deflated in obvious relief.

“Mister Loptsson, it seems that your claims have been borne out. The General’s chief of staff has confirmed. Now, if you will follow me, we don’t have much time before you will need to speak.”

—–

Stepping out onto the stage, Tony was reminded of the last time that he had presented here. Then, he had been celebrating Rhodey in his military accomplishments. Now, once again, he was celebrating a warrior; but one who had faced a very different type of fight.

“Portal. Superhero. Alien invasion. Put together, those words still feel like something which belongs on the pages of a work of speculative fiction. But, somehow, in this century they have all entered into the realm of normal conversation, key in any discussion of current events. And tonight, it is my privilege to honor a genuine superhero for his role in fighting off an alien invasion by collapsing a portal that left the Earth exposed to hostile attack. You all see what I mean?”

Below him, the entire audience erupted in polite laughter.

“Nonetheless, it is a statement of fact. Staff Sergeant Samuel Wilson, in his role as the Falcon, member of the Avengers, has proven himself capable of great heroics in the field of battle. Tonight, we honor him for this achievement.”

“Now, some of you may be asking, who is this civilian, this European stranger, to speak for an American superhero? The truth is that I am indeed undeserving of this opportunity, having only met Mister Wilson a mere few months previous, but nonetheless, I insisted. General Ross was gracious enough to allow me the opportunity to take his place in recognizing his subordinate at tonight’s event.”

“But before we do so, I would like to share a personal anecdote about Samuel Wilson. During the events which first brought us together, I had the chance to witness his strength and bravery under the threat of torture. When put through the wringer by those who had kidnapped him, it would have been easier for him to surrender the information that they demanded. Instead, he told them to do their worst. For he would not surrender himself to their threats.”

“I was able to witness this on video, shortly before we managed to extract him from his bonds, but I have no doubt that he would have held on for much longer. Samuel Wilson is a brave man, a good man, one who truly deserves the honor which he is to receive tonight.”

“Please join me in welcoming him to the stage, to receive this well-deserved reward.”

—–

“Thank you.”

The words, spoken by Rhodey, came sometime later after the ceremony had ended and everyone had resumed their general mingling.

“I know that presentation wasn’t really at your insistence. The General left, and you stepped up to fill in for his absence.” Rhodey let out a sigh, then continued. “To do that for Sam, it was a kind thing.”

“But of course,” Tony replied. “It genuinely was my pleasure, Colonel Rhodes.”

“Still,” Rhodey said, “if there is anything that I can do for you in return. So long as it is not a violation of ethics or the law, it would be my privilege.”

Oh, Rhodey, Tony thought, you are ever loyal, aren’t you?

“I will keep that in mind, Colonel. For now, all that I ask is that you consider me a new friend.”

Rhodey nodded, and the conversation took a natural lull before they were interrupted, pulled into a larger group that included Sam and his friend and the remaining Avengers in attendance at the celebration. Even though he had to take care not to drop out of character as Edward, Tony found a surprising amount of enjoyment in the remainder of the social gathering.

It was the type of environment that Tony Stark used to enjoy, back before the betrayals and imprisonment. And maybe, once this whole affair was complete, it would be again.

Chapter 12: An Impossible Hunt

Point-of-View Character: General Thaddeus ‘Thunderbolt’ Ross

How did it come to this, Ted wondered, scrambling around the jungles, searching for ghosts?

Everything had been going so well, in the aftermath of the reveal and fall of HYDRA. Not only had he managed to gain increased control over the so-called superheroes, the Avengers, but several other, more clandestine, projects had also made significant advances. Banner, now permanently subsumed within the monster, was in his custody. Wakanda, the continual thorn in his side, was distracted and dealing with public scrutiny. Even his political star was on the rise. Unlike so many of his peers, Ted had managed to keep himself out of the splash zone that was left by the data leaks, making him a front-runner for future office.

Sure, there had been some downsides.

Despite the successes that had come with the unofficial alliance that he had formed with Obadiah Stane, Ted was not the man’s biggest fan. The Starks may have been irritating at times, showing off their incredible intelligence and creativity, but the arrogance that they displayed was properly earned. Whether it was Stark Senior and what he’d done to make the original Super Solder experiments a success, or Stark Junior’s incredible skill at designing and building so many of the US military’s advanced weapons, there was no denying their talent.

In contrast, Obadiah Stane did not bring any such skills to the table. There was no question of the man’s skill in people management; the way that he’d stolen the Starks’ legacy right out from under them being just one example of many. But when it came to bringing new ideas to the table, he had proven to be far less successful. Just look at all of the superheroes that SI had supposedly created.

The original designs for the Iron Soldier had come from the mind of Tony Stark; developed during his time in a terrorist camp. Stane’s people may have managed some minor refinements in the years since then, but the base design remained the same. Then there was the Falcon. The wing pack had come out of a Stark Industries contract, years before Stark was taken out of play. And there, once again, the R&D group at SI had not made any significant upgrades in the years since then.

It had made Ted wonder, what would have happened if I hadn’t backed Obadiah’s play. What would Tony Stark have managed to create for the Avengers.

The thought was one which had been percolating through Ted’s brain for many years. Still, there had been no point in crying over spilt milk, as some would say. Ted had long ago learned to accept that fact. At this point, he and Stane existed in a state of mutually assured destruction, each one holding secrets that, if revealed, would be the ruin of the other.

Of course, the relatively pleasant state of affairs could only last for so long.

Less than a year later, some of the surety that Ted had once possessed had been lost.

Yes, he was the front-runner for the position once held by Alexander Pierce, HYDRA head and former US Secretary of State. Not only that, but the latest public opinion polls had his reputation in an excellent place when it came to the average American. Being known as one of the handlers for the Avengers was to his advantage, especially given the successful repulsion of the recent alien invasion.

Despite all of that, things behind the scenes had taken a turn for the worse.

After over a year in custody, the Hulk had managed to break loose. Not only that but this time the green beast had taken his daughter with him. Betty was out there somewhere, away from his control. With her current opinion of him, that was a real problem.

She thought that the monster was the hero and that Ted was the villain for keeping him captive. Not to mention, she had the ‘evidence’ necessary to put a real wrench in things. So now, instead of walking the halls of power in D.C. where he belonged, Ted was stuck out here in the middle of nowhere, hunting for his missing daughter and her monstrous partner.

—–

When his phone went off in the middle of an important networking event, Ted had been irritated. His staff knew better than to call him on a night like this one.

“Ross,” he snapped as he answered the phone.

“Sorry for disturbing you, Sir.”

“This had better be important,” he said, taking the time to offer his conversational companions an apologetic glance. It wouldn’t do to offend anyone in the group, even if most of them were his subordinates.

“I understand your frustration, Sir, but you left orders. This kind of information was to be passed on immediately, regardless of the situation.”

That grabbed Ted’s attention. There were very few topics that I set such orders around. Which one is it?

“We have a sighting, Sir.”

The Hulk then.

“And you’re sure that the sighting is genuine this time? I won’t tolerate another round of chasing green shadows.”

“Quite, Sir. It has been verified by multiple sources. The Hulk was seen in public, out in the open where anyone could recognize it.”

“Fine,” he said, “you have the authorization to start preparations. I will call you back shortly, once I am in a more secure location.”

Ted had to admit it. That is important news. It is more critical than being seen at an award ceremony, even one as significant as this one.

So after making his excuses to the others, Ted headed straight for the door. Depending on the location of the sightings, he would leave from the banquet, heading over to where his people were preparing to deploy.

As he interrogated his subordinates, Ted was pleased by what he heard. It seemed that the beast had made its way to Southeast Asia. Given the reports that he received, it sounded like Betty had figured out a way to properly control the monster. Not only had the Hulk been seen helping with relief efforts in the aftermath of a recent disaster, but there were rumors of a woman with him, dark-haired and fair-skinned.

Ted was relieved to hear indications that his daughter still lived; it was a bittersweet reprieve. If she had gotten herself killed by the beast, then the risk to his reputation would be mitigated. He was torn between surprise and concern. Either way, they had some fugitives to catch.

—–

Now that they’d arrived, of course, there was no sign of either of the fugitives. Or at least, not here on this wasteland of destroyed jungle. There was plenty of evidence that they had been there at one point. It could be seen in the massive piles of debris which had been shifted by a single, impossibly large, strong figure, and in the tales of a pale lady who traveled with a beast to come to their aid.

According to the locals, the pair were long gone, having disappeared into the jungle from whence they came. With little hope for success, Ted and his men set out on a search through this humid and bug-infested pocket of misery.

At first, the trail left by the Hulk wasn’t too hard to follow. The creature was too substantial to move through the undergrowth without doing substantial damage to the undergrowth as it went. But then, the trail reached a small clearing. It was at that point that the trail, quite literally, vanished.

Ted and his men looked around, but no one could find any indication that the fugitives had continued onward. The only thing to be seen was a smaller area of the clearing that had been completely flattened, wiped out completely to a level that went far beyond the norm.

“What do you think happened?” Ted heard one of the soldiers mutter to his neighbor. “Did they vanish into thin air?”

“Nah, the older man replied. Nothing so complicated, I’m sure. They probably just doubled back.”

“I don’t know about that,” a third man said. “We didn’t see any other trails splitting off on our way out here.”

“Well, what else is there?”

Ted had to agree with the men. By now he, himself, was grasping at thin air.

But then they heard something, a rustling in the trees beyond. The soldiers nearest the sound brought their weapons up, ready to fire. A figure burst out. Not at ground level, but rather high up in the branches.

It was a monkey.

As they watched, it pushed off the branch on which it stood, launching itself into the air until it reached another perch some distance away.

That could be it, Ted thought. He knew that the Hulk was capable of massive leaps, he’d seen it in Harlem amongst other locations. It was time to take to the skies.

As they headed back towards the destroyed village, he called in the helicopters that lurked nearby, ready for air support. Their search continued.

—–

When a flight found no further signs of the missing fugitives, the hunt went on. Minutes turned to hours, which turned to days, then weeks, until over a month had passed. Ted and his men had gone from island to island, to the mainland of Vietnam and Cambodia, as well as the peninsula of Malaysia and Singapore, following the trail of aid that Betty and the Hulk had left in their wake.

Not only that, but they also found references to another Enhanced, a man who had been spotted working with them. A man who the people they met claimed to have seen moving faster than the eye could follow. It sounded familiar, though Ted was not quite sure why.

Regardless, it was not good news for his side. Every ally that his traitorous daughter and her monster gained was one more person that Ted would be forced to fight.

Things only got worse as they continued. Over time, they found that the locals had grown increasingly hostile to their efforts. The legend of the gentle giant, his lady, and their fast-moving friend grew and became more influential in the rural communities scattered across the innumerable islands of Southeast Asia.

With every new story that he heard, Ted found himself growing ever more enraged. Damn Banner. Damn him to the darkest depths of hell.

The beast had no right. Not to escape, not to help others, not to gain allies, or portray itself as a hero. It ran counter to everything that Ted had fought so hard to maintain.

—–

Eventually, Ted was forced to temporarily cease his pursuit of the monster. Things were happening back in the States, important things, things that he needed to be present to facilitate.

Let the Hulk become the hero of the islands, Ted thought, fooling the savages will be of no help, not in the long run. I am the one who holds the control here. I can wait for their attempt to return to civilization. That is when the real fight begins.

---