Reading Time: 83 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
Chapter 13: Final Pieces
With Ross off chasing ghosts in the jungle, it gave Tony and his allies the perfect opportunity to set the stage for the man’s defeat.
It all started with the press. Christine Everhart’s lurking at the banquet was a useful tool in Tony’s arsenal. With a bit of help from JARVIS and their DC allies, it took very little effort to steer her in the right direction. Even though the Hulk had not been seen in public for years, not since he helped fight off the Chitauri during the New York invasion, he wasn’t entirely forgotten.
Between the Harlem incident and that one, the green giant had been adopted as an honored son of the city. As a result, many in that community knew more about the General’s history with Bruce Banner and his alter ego than the older man would have preferred. Still, the knowledge of the average man-on-the-street was merely the tip of the iceberg. Ross’ interest in super-soldiers was deep and abiding, and it had led him down dangerous and potentially treasonous paths.
With a bulldog like Everhart on the case, those paths were about to be exposed to the light. And Tony was more than happy to help her do it.
—–
“Ms. Everhart,” Tony said, his mask as Loptsson firmly in place, “this is an unexpected pleasure. May I ask what you are doing here in our little office in the City?”
Edward’s space at Monte Cristo Investments was the perfect foil for the conversation. Tony was seated between the massive floor-to-ceiling windows that look out onto the New York skyline and a similarly massive mahogany desk. With the iconic setting and the impeccably tailored suit, Edward would appear as the quintessential business tycoon.
Everhart’s look was much the same, except that her persona of choice was that of the intrepid female reporter. Like the first time that Tony had met her, back in the before time, she wore a fitted skirt suit and a pair of sky-high Louboutin heels, their iconic red soles noticeable as she followed his secretary inside. She even held a pen and a small notepad, though, in the modern era, the ubiquitous micro cassette recorder had been replaced by an iPhone.
“Mr. Loptsson, the pleasure is all mine.” Everhart’s smile was as sharp as her outfit. “I was hoping to speak to you regarding a certain US Army General, and your recent encounters.”
No one can say that she’s shy, Tony thought.
The blunt introduction was in keeping with his memories of the woman. From what he knew of her career, it was that same attitude, along with a willingness to hunt for the scoops that gave her so much success. The Everhart byline meant something, and that was all for the good.
“I suppose that we are getting right to business, then.”
Everhart nodded.
“In that case, I must admit that my experience with the man is very limited. We have not historically moved in the same circles, you see.”
“Of course.”
“It is only with the recent expansion of my businesses here in the Americas that our circles began to overlap. We were scheduled to meet during the gala that I hosted here in New York months ago, but the General had to back out at the last minute. Instead, our first official meeting came the other night down in D.C. I had, of course, been aware of the General’s recent moves in his oversight of the Avengers; and with the unexpected friendship that has developed between myself and Sergeant Wilson, meeting his military superiors was a point of interest. As a matter of fact, the night was my first meeting with both of Wilson’s military overseers, Ross and Colonel Rhodes.”
“You mean the Iron Soldier?”
“Precisely. In my opinion, that man is the true leader of the Avengers. He appears to care for his subordinates in a way that none of the others, Ross, SHIELD Director Fury, or even the Captain of America, Steve Rogers, manage to achieve. Both Ross and Fury feel performative in their approval, while Rogers doesn’t even bother. Single-minded, that one,” Tony allowed his lips to quirk in a wry smile.”
“But I am going off on a, how do you say it, snipe hunt? You wanted to know about my interactions with Ross. Very well, then.”
From there Tony spoke of Ross in more detail. Keeping most of his comments at a surface level, but dropping several apparently unconscious hints, the perfect breadcrumbs for the bulldog from Brown. With his help, Everhart’s search was going to go far.
– —-
With the press on the hook, the next thing to do was to present them with the right testimonials. It might seem odd, but that didn’t include either Bruce Banner (or rather the Hulk) or Betty Ross. No, their story would be saved for the big reveal. Instead, Tony’s plan made use of some of his far less scrupulous contacts.
Aldrich Killian was the easy one. The CEO of Advanced Idea Mechanics (AIM) was already a solid ally, one indebted to ‘Edward’ for his help. Not only that, but as a military contractor who specialized in novel research his company had genuinely done work on Ross’ behalf, work which was, to most eyes, on the wrong side of the ethical divide.
“Aldrich,” Tony said, speaking into the handset of the phone.
Having finished up his meeting with Everhart, he had lingered inside the posh office, taking advantage of the security and privacy that it provided to conduct further business. “Do you have a moment to speak?”
“For you, of course, Edward,” Killian replied. “I was going to reach out anyways, to give you an update on the Extremis situation.”
“Oh?”
“We’ve had a couple of field tests of the latest iteration of the design, the one that you sent over last month.”
“Not deliberately, I hope,” Tony said, the casual tone belying a real sense of concern. With all of the work that he had put in to support the remaining Extremis survivors, he felt a bit of proprietary concern regarding their fate. If Killian was so far gone as to risk his people unnecessarily, then that would be a major strike against him.
“Not on your life,” Killian replied. “There are so few of us left on this Earth. Why would I want to risk any of them?”
“Good, good. Tell me, then, what was the outcome of this testing?”
“Unparalleled success. The degradation of the runaway effect provided both subjects sufficient time to regain control, reversing the transformation before it could turn into an explosion. It helped that we were able to eliminate the triggers which instigated the attacks efficiently, making the autonomic response unnecessary. I am unsure whether it will be a complete success in situations where the trigger cannot be removed.”
“That is indeed excellent news,” Tony said. “My people will continue to research improvements, but in the meantime, I am willing to consider this project a success.”
He paused for a moment, then continued.
“If you do not mind, there is another matter to discuss.”
“Oh? Does it have something to do with our mutual enemy?”
“Indirectly. Do you recall our conversation regarding Stane’s powerful allies and the need to eliminate them from the playing field, to clear the path toward our true target?”
“I do.”
“Excellent. Then, in that case, I have a request for you. The time has come for the first domino to fall. Thunderbolt Ross is about to have a very unpleasant time, and I was hoping to use AIM’s past partnerships with him to help support his ruin.”
“It would be my distinct pleasure,” Killian purred. “Ross is an arrogant ass, one who deserves anything you want to throw at him. If it will help our mission, then I and my people are at your service.”
“Excellent. Would they be able to implicate Ross in the ongoing Mandarin scandal?”
“Easily,” Killian replied. “Not only was Ross a member of the oversight committee for the project, but he was also involved in the selection of the military volunteers, working closely with the members of my team who have so graciously agreed to play the villain for law enforcement and the public. I won’t even have to change anything to make him look incredibly guilty.”
“Perfect.”
“If you don’t mind my asking, what is your ultimate plan for the good General?”
“Let’s just say that there’s a nomination coming his way, one that will put him into position for a massive fall.”
“That is particularly exciting news.”
Even over the phone, Tony could hear the sadistic glee in Killian’s tone. The man was a shark in human form and any chance that he had to bring others down he was more than happy to take. It was one of the reasons that Tony was careful not to break character with him. Aldrich Killian liked the urbane, ruthless Edward Loptsson, a feeling that he feared would not extend to one Anthony Edward Stark.
—–
After wrapping up his call with Killian, Tony took a moment to lean back and bask in the feeling of anticipation. Between Everhart, Killian, and the wicked HYDRA Baron, he had plenty of ammunition in his arsenal. It was more than enough to put the good General on warning and keep him in a frazzled headspace as they prepared to reveal the piece de resistance.
But before he could head back to the New York Sanctum, where he could shed the Loptsson mask and enjoy a pleasant evening in with his lover and friends, there came an unexpected buzz from his office phone.
“Loptsson,” he said, recognizing that the line went out to his secretary’s desk.
“Begging your pardon, sir, but there is a visitor waiting outside.”
“Oh?”
That was odd.
He didn’t have anyone else on his calendar for the afternoon, and with his cover identity’s irregular hours in the office well publicized, such drop-ins were an unusual event.
“Who is it?”
“A military man, who has introduced himself as one Colonel James Rhodes. He claims to have made your recent acquaintance.” He could hear the slight frown in the woman’s voice as she spoke. Like Tony himself, she was unaccustomed to dealing with unplanned visitors, who she hadn’t had the opportunity to vet.
“He does have the photographic identification on hand to prove it.” Then she added in an undertone, “For what that is worth.”
Once again, Tony found himself taken aback. Sure, Edward had ‘met’ Rhodey at the gala, but he didn’t think that he’d made enough of an impression there, not to bring his old friend all the way up to New York to see a relative stranger.
I don’t like the feeling, he decided, of being uncertain about another’s motives.
Still, his curiosity easily got the better of him.
“Go ahead and let him in,” he instructed.
As the solid wooden door swung open, he deliberately repositioned himself back into the position that he had adopted during the conversation with Everhart. Hopefully, Rhodey would respond the same way as she had to his subliminal messaging.
His secretary was the first one through the open door, followed immediately by Rhodey, dressed in a formal but not full-dress uniform. His face was brightened by an easy smile as he walked over to the desk where Tony, as Edward, sat. Reaching across it, he offered a formal handshake.
“My apologies for coming by without a prior invitation,” he said, maintaining a smile. “I was in the area for personal reasons and thought that it would be the perfect opportunity to see you. I wanted to again express my appreciation for the lovely gesture which you made the other night.”
Tony waved off his hovering secretary, before gesturing for Rhodey to claim one of the chairs on the other side of his desk. It was only after she left the room, shutting the door behind her, that he spoke.
“It was no trouble at all, my good sir, but rather my privilege. Young Samuel is a splendid example of your country’s military might, and more than earned the accolades which he received.”
Rhodey continued to smile, looking at Tony as his face took on a strange expression. It almost looked like… but no, there was no way that he’d been recognized.
“Nevertheless, I do appreciate it. I had worried when the General was forced to depart so abruptly, that the event would be disrupted. But you stepped in before I was forced to do so, and in such a way that most people were none the wiser. From what Sam and his friend Riley have told me, that action is in keeping with your character. Truly, you have earned my respect. And perhaps, if you would so honor me, your friendship as well.”
Friendship, Tony thought, that is unexpected.
He wasn’t opposed, in principle, to the idea. It gave him yet another in with the members of the cabal who he had sworn his vengeance upon. But unlike Sam and the others who he had recruited, utilizing Rhodey included an additional element of risk. The Colonel had once been Tony’s best friend, and regardless of the changes that came from the years and events which had happened since that time, he remained someone with an intimate knowledge of Tony’s personality quirks. If anyone were to manage to see behind the mask, it would be James Rhodes.
I suppose that I can’t refuse, though. Not without arousing unnecessary attention.
“Very well,” Tony said, “that is something that I can accept.”
“In that case,” Rhodey said with another smile, “perhaps I can interest you in a meal invitation sometime this weekend. I am sure that with your offices here in the Big Apple you are familiar with the food scene here in Manhattan, but as a local boy myself I would venture a bet that I might have you beat.”
“I do have other business this weekend,” Tony said, “but I might be able to manage to fit you in. Brunch on Sunday, perhaps?”
It was a nostalgic thought.
When they were younger and still in college together, Tony used to tag along with Rhodey when the older man returned home for school breaks. And Sunday Brunch with the family Rhodes was a special event, back then. Mama Rhodes was effusive and kind to the affections-starved young Stark heir, and the byplay of sibling rivalry between Rhodey and the others present made him feel like part of the family.
Damn it, Tony. Get yourself together, he mentally chided himself. Eyes on the prize.
“That sounds like a great idea,” Rhodey agreed easily. “I’d offer you an invitation to Mom’s house, but it does feel a bit soon for that.”
Thank goodness for that, Tony thought. He would never be able to keep it together if that happened.
“I’ll figure out something else, instead.”
“Just reach out to my secretary to make the arrangements, then, Colonel.”
Tony said.
“Right,” Rhodey agreed, “and, please, call me Jim. We are going to be friends, after all.”
“Then I am Edward,” Tony said.
That’ll take some adjusting to get used to, he thought. I wonder why he changed it.
“Great, Edward,” Rhodey – Jim – replied. “But I can see that you are busy.” He waved towards the stacks of paper that lay off to the side of the desk, the props that he had used during the earlier conversation with Everhart.
Standing up, the Colonel again offered up his hand.
Tony had a moment of hesitation. After everything that had happened, he wasn’t a fan of casual contact these days. Giving a mental shrug, Tony accepted.
“It was good to see you, Edward,” Jim – hah – said, “and I look forward to our upcoming get-together.”
“You as well,” Tony said, giving his hand a brisk shake. As the older man turned and walked out of the room, he continued to stare at where Rhodes had stood, lost in thought.
Rhodey, he thought, even after all these years apart, you never fail to surprise me.
—–
Brunch with Rhodey and unexpectedly, but not that surprising upon further reflection, Sam ended up being a pleasant experience. Between his in-person observations of the Avengers’ battles in Sokovia and the conversations with Coulson and Barton, as well as the more guarded encounters with other members of the team, Tony had thought that he had a full picture of the team’s dynamic. But having Rhodey and Sam there, talking ‘shop’ about their roles in the team, his perception gained an unexpected twist. It seemed that many of the Avengers had already become disenchanted with their superiors, to the point where they would love to break away from the dubious triad of Stane’s financial support, Ross’ military oversight, and Fury’s ‘intelligence’ agency’s mission control.
According to the pair, the only person who showed no signs of desiring to break away was the supposed leader of the Avengers, the good Captain himself. While they both were careful not to explicitly condemn Steve Rogers, Tony had no difficulty in reading between the lines. Rogers was a loose cannon, one who had not adapted well to life in the new millennium. Not that this came as any kind of surprise to Tony.
Rogers had already been on his radar and was in fact a key element in his plan for Fury. Still, it was interesting to hear the words from his ‘friends’ mouths. It had made him wonder. How did Rhodey fail to recognize what happened to me?
In the end, he found that he couldn’t help himself. He had to know.
“It makes one wonder,” he said, speaking to Rhodey, “Given everything that we have spoken about, what really happened to those who previously got in their way. The previous CEO of SI, Anthony Stark, for example.”
Tony watched Rhodey’s face fall, a look of intense grief spread across his face.
“Tony,” he said, choking up, “Tony is one of the reasons for my mistrust. I have no proof, mind you, but with the advantage of hindsight I am quite certain that Stane at least was involved in what happened. His nervous breakdown was just too neat, you see. I’ve always assumed that he managed to work with one of the HYDRA elements in SHIELD to make that happen, especially given that he was murdered during the events of the HYDRA reveal.”
“Not only that, but I’m pretty sure that the same HYDRA group had something to do with the deaths of Tony’s loyal subordinates, Ginny Potts, and Harold Hogan, shortly after his breakdown. They supposedly died in a car accident, according to the official records. However, it was just too neat an event, especially given that Ginny was trying to investigate Tony’s committal when it happened.”
Tony had to fight back the tears, something that Rhodey didn’t even bother to do. Instead, he allowed his face to show the devastation that he felt.
“It’s okay, man,” Sam said, patting his mentor’s arm. It was clear from his actions that he had already heard the story and was unsurprised by the news.
“Thanks,” Rhodey said, before looking over at Tony, who had masked his true feelings behind a look of impersonal but appalled shock.
“Gin was Tony’s personal assistant, while Happy was his driver,” he explained. “They died in what was reported to be a single vehicle car accident in the canyons of LA shortly after Tony was involuntarily committed to a psychiatric hospital. Sounds suspicious, right?”
It was clear that the question was rhetorical, as Rhodey continued talking.
“Nothing in the paperwork filed by the LAPD investigators indicates any signs of foul play, but we all know how much money talks. Given the power the HYDRA in SHIELD would have had to manipulate affairs, it would not have been hard for them to make that happen. I suppose that is why I have been working on my own version of the Iron Soldier these days. Something that I can claim as my own separate from the SI version.”
“It won’t be the same, of course, but I am a fair engineer as well as an excellent pilot. Besides, Stane may have claimed SI, but I still had a large bequest that I received from Tony’s estate following his death. Between that and the shares and patent rights that I received over the years of serving as Tony’s military liaison, I am not entirely without my own resources.”
Good for him, Tony thought. I suppose Rhodey has proven himself worthy of his superhero title. And hey, maybe once my revenge is complete, I can finally get a chance to work with him again.
It would give XANDER a chance to prove himself as well.
Once ULTRON had been wiped from Earth’s digital infrastructure following the departure of the Mind Stone through the collapsing portal, Tony and JARVIS had been able to revive the backup copy of the artificial intelligence from the segregated server where it had been left hidden. While he had lost a bit of time and the latest updates to his learning algorithm, he was otherwise fully recoverable.
The biggest challenge would be with his voice, Tony knew.
XANDER wasn’t ULTRON, of course, but the alien consciousness had laid claim to the audio files originally configured for XANDER’s user interface and used them to communicate with the Avengers and the public. Sure, XANDER’s choice of syntax and his casual speaking ‘voice’ differed from ULTRON’s superior tones and intellectual mannerisms, but they were still formed from the same vocal kernel. It would be up to XANDER to convince Rhodey to trust him, but Tony was certain that the young AI could manage it.
But he didn’t say any of that. It wasn’t the right time to reveal himself; not yet. Instead, he simply commented.
“That sounds like a worthwhile endeavor, my friend. And one that I would be delighted to support. If you find yourself in need of additional resources in extracting yourself from your current situation, do not hesitate to reach out.”
Next, Tony turned to Sam, “And that goes for you as well, young Samuel. Regardless of the motivations of your superiors, the both of you have proven yourselves worthy of the title of superhero and it would be my honor to support such great men.”
“Thanks,” Rhodey said, as Sam agreed.
—–
As the weekend came to an end, and Tony prepared to depart from New York, heading back to the American Capitol, his nerves began to tingle in anticipation. The time was almost here, he knew, for the first of his targets to meet their fate.
Chapter 14: Freedom of Speech
Point-of-View Character: Doctor Elizabeth ‘Betty’ Ross
Back in the States for the first time since their rescue, Betty couldn’t help but feel a bit nervous. With everything that had happened these past months, she knew that she had no reason to be. Between the new allies that had come alongside her and her Hulk, and the newfound Mystical strength and surprising confidence that her beloved had grown through their experiences together, there was no way that they could end up back in chains.
Still, the habit of a lifetime was hard to break.
Thaddeus Ross was a powerful man, one with even more formidable allies, and he had always managed to use his influence to control her movement. Everything from her childhood activities to college and grad school, even the choice of her career had to meet his approval before it could proceed. Bruce had been the first time that she had chosen something for herself, and for that reason alone her father had disliked him from the very beginning.
Then, after the accident that led to the emergence of the Hulk, that dislike turned to severe hatred. Betty could see the good in her Hulk, the traits that he shared with his alter ego and the man that she loved, all that Thaddeus Ross could see was a monster. Even when her Hulk had proven himself useful, first in Harlem, then again in the battle for New York, her father hadn’t cared to change his mind.
While Bruce was in SHIELD’s hands, recovering from the epic heroics that his alter-ego had done, instead of protecting him those bastards had turned him over into her father’s custody. And in that compound, far from any form of oversight, her father had proven himself to be the true monster. Bruce had been tortured, both mentally and physically, until his mind broke from the strain. Determined to end his miserable existence, he had tried to kill himself.
Though her Hulk’s physical resiliency had allowed him to survive his alter’s self-destruction, he had nonetheless remained in captivity. With Betty herself stolen from her own life in biomedical research and academia and brought there to act as an unwilling hostage for the green giant’s sake, the pair had been miserable indeed.
Now, the tides had turned.
Her father was finally about to be forced to face up to his sins, for his career and life to be ruined the way that he had done to so many others. Bruce, Tony, and even Betty herself, all of them deserved this chance for revenge. Playing hide and seek in the jungle, leading him on a wild goose chase when there was no way that he would find them had been a nice first step. The footage that their friends had managed to gain, showing her father nearly tearing his hair out in frustration, had been amazing to watch.
He looked like such an idiot, she thought, smiling, nothing like the controlled politician that he likes to project to the public. Ranting and raving about the green monster, and how dare he escape from Daddy Dearest’s hands.
It had even made her Hulk laugh, an unusual sight where Ross was concerned. If she had bad memories of the General, his were so much worse.
“Angry Ross look stupid,” he said, watching the footage. “Hulk and Betty not hiding in jungle, not anymore. We are safe with friends, happy too.”
He wiggled his fingers, some of which now bore the golden glint of a pair of sling rings. More than anything else, the green giant loved having the ability to portal between places. It gave him the freedom to leave situations when things felt unsafe; to be able to do so while carrying his beloved Betty made it even better.
“Yes, we are, honey, yes we are,” she agreed. “And soon, I promise, it will be his turn to experience true misery.”
“Then we go back to hang with Speedy more?”
Betty laughed.
“Yes, darling,” she said, “You can play with Quicksilver once we are done here.”
As they worked together in the various disaster areas, the Enhanced speedster had proven his worth. With his Enhancements in full effect, he could keep up with the Hulk in a way that Betty herself was unable to do on her own. And somehow, Pietro’s lighthearted teasing filled in some of the gaps that had been left by the loss of Bruce Banner (or his consciousness anyway). She hoped that the three of them could find a way to continue their unofficial team in the future.
—–
When Tony had first told her about the nomination that her father had received, that the President himself had been convinced to put his name forward as the Secretary of State, she had been infuriated.
Once again, she had thought, my father comes out smelling like roses.
Thankfully, the other genius hadn’t left her there to stew. Instead, he had reminded her about one little political detail regarding American politics, one which she had to admit that she had forgotten if she ever knew it at all. Before a presidential appointee could be put into place, he or she had to first gain the approval of the Senate. And part of that process was an in-depth investigation of their worthiness, followed by a formal hearing.
“That will be our opportunity to strike,” Tony had explained. “I will be laying all the groundwork beforehand, but it will be you, my dear, who will take the starring role. You see, according to the General, you are off doing research in some prestigious lab, the proof of his prowess as a father.”
“While really, he has been keeping me locked up, holding me hostage along with my former fiancée, the superhero who went missing right after his help in the Battle of New York.”
Both Betty and Tony’s smiles were sharp with shared understanding.
“You are going to annihilate him, aren’t you,” he said.
“But of course, my dear.”
—–
Now, she sat, segregated in one of the private rooms in the back of the Senate building, waiting with her Hulk for their chance to speak. Together, they sat, hand in hand, and watched the C-SPAN footage of the room just down the hall.
“General Ross,” the speaker for the Senate Committee, said, after bringing the session to order. “I trust that you are prepared to answer this committee’s questions. After all, you have been somewhat… absent… from these halls of late.”
Betty could see her father grinding his teeth at the reminder, and she squeezed Hulk’s large hand as best she could with her own, much smaller, one.
“They are upset because he was off chasing us instead of doing his job,” she explained, and Hulk’s teeth bared in a smile.
“Good,” was all he said as he continued to watch.
“Of course, Senators,” the General replied. From there, they went through the formal rigmarole of swearing him in, placing him officially under oath. Betty scoffed audibly as he swore to tell the truth, and even through the limited view of the television she could see Tony in his Edward disguise, as well as many others in the audience, actively rolling their eyes. It seemed that the opinion of the audience was already biased in their favor.
That is nice to see, Betty thought. A supportive audience does make testimony easier. Especially when it comes with so much emotional impact.
The committee started things off with a few apparent lowballs, speaking positively of his early career. This included showing an interview with one of his former commanding officers. In the presentation, Ross was presented as a man with ambitions, one who was willing to get his hands dirty when needed to meet the goals of his assignments. The attitude was portrayed as a positive trait, with the presenters implying that the Secretary of State was often called upon to make hard decisions.
Still, Betty could already see the path that they were paving. It seemed that the committee was setting things up for the inevitable turn.
I wonder how Tony managed to work his magic there? She thought. Did he reveal himself to anyone else, or did he just take advantage of Father’s rivalries and the other enemies that he had made in his rise to the top?
She suspected that it was the latter.
Like Betty herself, Tony Stark knew the pain of intimate betrayal. He wouldn’t trust easily, not anymore. Not that she blamed him. From the stories that she had heard during her time with the Order, she knew that he had experienced as much if not more suffering than her and her beloved dual-minded partner. Quite frankly, she was honored to have been granted even the limited trust that she had received. To know his full identity was a privilege not held by many.
The session closed on a positive note, with her father’s path to achieving the rank of General. As the committee broke for the day, she knew that her father had to be riding high.
He must think that tomorrow will be smooth sailing, she thought, as she watched him stride from the room, trailed by his entourage. I would bet that he thinks the Secretary of State is well within his grasp.
Her stomach made itself known with a minor rumble, one which was quickly masked by her Hulk’s much louder one.
She laughed. “It seems that our stomachs are in agreement with the committee,” she said. “It is time to get something to eat.”
With her companion’s size and distinctive appearance, they could not simply walk out of the room like everyone else. Sure, they could have portaled out at any time, but that would have given away the Mystical secret of their current allies. Instead, they had made more mundane arrangements.
To that end, their administrative handlers had ordered a panel van, one which could be parked right next to one of the building’s loading docks. Then, after clearing the hallways between their holding room and the exit of any casual observers, the staff escorted them out. They moved down the hallway and out into the garage without issues, with Hulk climbing into the secluded back end while Betty herself took the front passenger seat. With the suit and sunglasses that she wore, she looked like just another member of the staff, so there was no need for her to hide.
And to drive down the side of the National Mall, looking out at the seat of the American Government with the Hulk rumbling behind her was a surreal experience. She never thought that she’d have this opportunity, and to do it with her partner, or at least the remaining part of him, at her side, meant the world to her.
—–
After a delicious dinner provided in their hotel suite via appropriately compensated and discreet servers and a pleasant night’s sleep on a fancy bed, Betty woke more than ready to face the day. Knowing that today was likely to be the one where she would be facing the public, she spent a bit more time on her appearance than she had on the previous morning. Her face would most likely be plastered all over the headlines by this time tomorrow, and she needed to make the right impression.
She even convinced her Hulk to dress up a bit more than he usually managed to do. After a bit of work with Wong and some of his staff, they had managed to adapt the Order’s layers of robes into something that would remain intact through the green giant’s ordinary size shifts. Of course, they could only do so much. If things got truly messy, he would once again suffer the loss of most of his clothing. But in the meantime, the sandals, loose trousers, and a layered, wrapped robe, all colored in shades of cream and beige, made him look like a civilized man; the exact opposite of the monster that her father would claim.
Back into the van they went, and from there back to the same room as before, but this time there was a real sense of anticipation. Even their handlers knew what was about to occur, at least a little bit anyways, and were excited for things to happen.
—–
The session opened with the same formalities, as the General took his seat and was sworn in. But this time, the committee speaker didn’t even try to remain congenial. Instead, he went straight for the jugular.
“Mister Ross,” he said, his lip curling up in a sneer, “thus far we have spoken of your rise into a place of authority, a path that most people would agree was a great success. But that level of power, it seems, was not something that you handled particularly well.”
The General sputtered. Clearly, he wasn’t expecting this turn.
“I beg your pardon, Senator,” he said. “But what, exactly are you accusing me of doing? Surely you would not speak in this manner without absolute proof.”
By his confident tone and smile to the camera, he clearly indicated that he thought the other man was speaking out of turn.
“Proof,” the Senator said, “you insist on evidence, do you? Then that is what we will provide.”
Over the next several hours, the committee brought forward one witness after another, each one testifying regarding a piece of the puzzle. One spoke of the General’s fascination with super-soldiers, and his desire to recreate the success of Captain America. Another referenced his involvement in the selection of research projects to receive military funding, including the direct role he played in the approval of the Extremis trials.
“So many of those former soldiers who you recommended for the trials lost their lives as a consequence of its failures,” the witness said. “Including several of my friends.” He tapped his fingers against the metal of a lost limb. “But for a happy coincidence, I would have been one of them.”
“Sergeant Riley,” the General blustered, “how dare you speak against me in this way. I had nothing to do with that tragedy but was led astray, like so many others who were left standing flat-footed.”
“You claim no knowledge, then,” one of the Senators said, “even though you were the one who was responsible for overseeing the project on our government’s behalf. How convenient…”
“Yet another example of this committee’s reaching,” the General claimed.
“Or so you say,” the Senator replied. “But we have not yet brought up your most infamous experimental project, the one which led to the emergence of the Hulk.”
From her seat down the hall, Betty leaned forward. How would her father respond to this?
The story that he painted was disappointing, but not surprising. First, he tried to blame poor Bruce, claiming that her partner’s poor lab safety practices had been the cause of the accident. As he had been publicly claiming that idea for years, it was exactly what she had expected to hear.
From there, he once again stuck to his usual story when it came to the Hulk. Painting the green giant as an uncontrollable monster, one who was released any time Bruce lost control.
Even when multiple witnesses got up and testified of the Hulk’s heroism in battling the Abomination in Harlem and then again in Manhattan when he took down so many of the Chitauri, the General denied it all. He claimed that any testimony was biased, that the witnesses confused brute cunning with intelligence, and that the Hulk was no hero.
“Besides,” he said, “that monster is long gone.”
“Wait,” one of the Senators, a woman who’d remained mostly silent throughout the earlier sessions, commented, “Was not your recent absence from the Capitol due to your hunt for the Hulk?”
Then she turned to the rest of the panel. “There have been a number of rumors in recent months, of a green giant who provides aid to those in need, then disappears before the American troops chasing him can arrive.”
She looked back at Ross, “The same troops, I might add, that you claim to lead.”
Gotcha, Betty thought as she watched her father’s face go ruddy with fury. He was reaching the breaking point. It was just about time.
“Fine,” he said. “I’ll admit it. I have been chasing rumors about the monster. There, are you happy?”
“Ecstatic,” the woman replied, her voice dry. “Particularly as you’ve now demonstrably lied while under oath. With that being said, I believe that it is now time for one more witness before we break for lunch.”
It’s time, Betty thought. Reaching out, she squeezed her Hulk’s hand.
“I am going to go in there,” she said, “and take our enemy down with my words. Now just remember Hulk, and this is very important unless you see real danger, not just words, I need you to stay here and keep watch. Can you do that for me?”
Hulk grunted. He was clearly unhappy that she was leaving his side but accepting of the need.
Squaring her shoulders, Betty stepped out.
As she made her way through the crowd of reporters and other citizens that had gathered waiting outside of the room, she allowed her lips to curve up in a small smile. It wasn’t until she was nearly inside that someone in the audience figured out her identity, the shouts of ‘Miss Ross’ and ‘Doctor Ross’ began even as she stepped inside.
After nodding politely towards the committee while blatantly looking away from her fuming father, she stepped up onto the witness stand. Being sworn in was no trouble, as she had no intention of lying, not today of all days. She would take her father down with the truth, nothing more and nothing less.
Chapter 15: The First Victory
As he stepped out of the building and into the muggy air of the Capitol in the heart of the summer, Tony fought back the urge to look to the sky and cheer.
They had done it!
Betty’s testimony was everything that he had hoped for and more. There was no way that Ross would be able to escape the avalanche that was about to hit him, not now. His career was finished, as was any hope of regaining power. Today would go down in history, as a textbook example of the consequences of dirty politics. The only thing missing was an appearance from the Hulk.
While the hearing had not been officially closed, Tony had no doubt that this afternoon’s session would be little more than a formality. It was curious that there had been no appearances from either of the man’s allies, especially Fury, but then again, maybe not. Ross and Stane were allies of convenience, not friends, and, given the public nature of the hearing, it was highly likely that someone like Fury was forewarned about the direction that it would turn.
To be honest, the only reason that their blindside of the General had been as successful as it had been was due to the man’s recent absence from the halls of power. Rumors had been running rampant, especially as Christine Everhart’s ongoing investigation had become common knowledge. Tony had no doubt that she was, even now, putting the finishing touches on a series of articles that were bound to come out once the hearing wrapped.
And, speaking of the woman…
“Mister Loptsson,” Everhart called, as she walked out behind him. “You are an unexpected presence in the halls of the United States government.”
“Oh?”
“Being a foreigner, and one relatively new to doing business here at that. Why on Earth would you want to muddle about in American politics?”
“Surely you are not so naïve, Ms. Everhart,” Tony replied, emphasizing the accent that he used in his Edward persona. “All know that in this era American politics are global politics. Besides, the General has been linked to several of my new friends; how could I not be in attendance at his political coming out.”
Despite herself, Everhart snorted.
“Coming out, is it? More like annihilation, wouldn’t you say?”
“It would appear so,” Tony agreed.
“And a well-deserved one, at that,” Everhart added. “Given what I’ve uncovered in my investigation, the information that was revealed in today’s session is just the tip of the iceberg. Ross is as dirty as they come, and now everyone knows it.”
The Brown Bulldog at work, ladies and gentlemen, Tony thought.
Despite the years that had passed, he still remembered the night that they had shared or rather the article that she had been preparing to publish prior to his initial kidnapping by the Ten Rings.
“So, it seems,” he said. “Now, if you will excuse me, Ms. Everhart; it looks like my ride is waiting.”
He gestured down the steps towards the black town car that idled below. Even without his mage sight active, he could easily recognize the form of Kae’s default cover persona. It looked like his lover had decided to come out to celebrate with him. Of course, this lunch would just be the start of the party. There was still one final section of the hearing to come, after which Tony hoped to see Ross being taken off in handcuffs.
—–
That afternoon, the hearing wrapped up about how Tony had expected. While Betty’s testimony remained the pinnacle of the event, the second session’s revelations did not disappoint. Ross’ close ties to the man who had been exposed as a HYDRA mastermind, the former US Secretary of State, Alexander Pierce were discussed, as was his tendency to run roughshod over local governments during his hunts for the elusive green ‘beast’.
In the end, the chair of the Senate committee got up to speak.
“Mister Ross,” he said. “Over the last two days, we’ve heard testimony from your friends and colleagues, as well as those who were far less fond. But one thing that held throughout. You are an ambitious man, one who has always demonstrated a determination to triumph. And it is that very characteristic that has proven to be your downfall.”
“I believe that I speak for the rest of my committee when I say, that not only will we be rejecting the nomination made by the President, but we will instead be pushing for a criminal trial based upon the findings revealed over the course of this hearing.”
As he looked around, the rest of the committee nodded in agreement.
“We will not be inviting you to speak on your own behalf, for truly what can you possibly say to justify your actions? And to all of those watching, both here and across the globe, let me assure you that our great nation is in no way represented by the atrocities that can be placed in this man’s hands.”
For a moment, the room fell silent, before the roar of the audience began. People began screaming for Ross’ head, forcing the Capitol police to close ranks around him. Ross himself was already shouting back, arguing that the whole affair had been a frame job and that he was a good soldier who had served his country with honor.
“And this is how they dare to repay me,” he yelled, even as the security forces moved to escort him out of the room. When they reached the door and entered the hallway beyond, Ross froze.
There, standing just a few short feet beyond, was the proud figure of his rebellious child, the woman who had just destroyed his reputation. And hovering behind her, his head brushing the tall ceiling, was a figure who anyone would remember.
The Hulk.
But not the monster that Ross had claimed. No, this man stood there, tall and composed, demonstrating the decorum that Ross himself currently lacked. The cameras snapped and the videotapes rolled as the audience waited with bated breath for what would happen next.
“Monster,” Ross yelled, “You dare show your face here!”
Looking around, he snapped, “Well, why isn’t someone moving? Seize him!”
No one followed his orders.
“What are you doing?” he shouted. “The beast cannot be allowed to rampage through the governing halls of our country!”
“Rampage,” Betty said with a scoff, “as if my Hulk would do such a thing.” Reaching out she patted the giant’s hovering hand. “He is my guard, here to protect me from your wrath. You are the one who is rampaging.”
“Ross is angry one,” the Hulk agreed. His deep rumbling voice startled many, including the security personnel who bracketed the disgraced general.
“How dare you,” Thaddeus Ross snarled, stealing a handgun from the holster of one of the distracted guards. “Both of you. I am not sure which one of you gives me more regret.”
Pointing the barrel of the weapon directly at her chest, he cocked it.
It seemed that some of the crowds were on his side, as the security personnel were pulled away, leaving the standoff exposed to all.
“Nonetheless, I will see you pay for it.”
Three things happened nearly simultaneously.
First, there was the crack of a gunshot.
Second, the Hulk moved.
Third, a scream rang out, along with the wet sound of a bullet hitting a body.
—–
It took a moment for Tony to process what had just happened.
His primary concern was for Betty. There was no way that he could have anticipated this level of violence, not right there in the middle of the Senate building. As such, he knew that she was not wearing any kind of protective armor. If a bullet from that handgun hit her, at this range, there was a good chance that she wouldn’t survive.
Thankfully, it was immediately apparent that hadn’t happened. Somehow, the Hulk had managed to spin them around such that his back was the one facing the spot where Ross had stood.
Had being the operative word. For the crack that they had all heard hadn’t come from the gun in Ross’ hand. Instead, he was the one who had gone down.
“Suicide by cop,” Tony whispered, even as the security personnel pushed away from those who had been holding them back. The owner of the gun retrieved it, gingerly, engaging the safety, as the crowd pushed back in.
Over their heads, Tony could see the Hulk picking Betty up and cradling her in his arms. They pressed their foreheads together as he whispered something to her.
From what Tony could see around the crowds, he could guess what it was.
Ross was dead.
Whoever the shooter had been, they were an expert marksman. A single shot, one aimed at just the right angle to take him out while at the same time avoiding any collateral damage.
But was it SHIELD, or HYDRA, Tony wondered. He could see either one being true.
As he pushed his way out of the crowd, taking a moment to nod at the Hulk along the way, all that he could feel was numb. It was in direct contrast to the sheer euphoria that had filled his heart only moments before.
How could Ross just be… dead.
It didn’t feel like quite enough. Ross deserved to rot in prison, to experience the agony of having his freedom taken away. And now, now he never would.
—–
As the day came to an end, there in D.C., that feeling of melancholy remained inside Tony’s heart. He couldn’t quite put a finger on why this had hit him so hard. It wasn’t the death itself, not exactly. Everything that he had experienced these past years had inured him to that reality. Rather, it was that feeling of incompleteness.
It didn’t feel like the grand culmination of years of planning.
Betty was the one who said it best, as they gathered inside the suite that had been arranged for a night of celebration.
“It’s an uncomfortable reminder,” she said, “that no matter how carefully we plan, people are complex, and as such they may not react the way that we expect. My father always had a problem with his temper, but for it to escalate like that was not something that any of us would have predicted.”
“As we move forward with the rest of our grand plan, let us all keep this in our minds. People will always manage to surprise us, but as long as we remain prepared to pivot when needed, I firmly believe that the next phases will be a success.”
—–
It seemed that Betty’s words were prophetic. The following week brought yet another unexpected move.
This one came from the Captain of America, Steve Rogers himself.
The man-with-a-plan had taken Ross’ fall with a baffling level of nonchalance, given that the other had been one of his superiors. But then, Rogers had shown himself to be exceedingly self-centered, lacking empathy for people beyond their role in his life. With most of Ross’ involvement in the Avengers passed through Rhodey, Sam, or one of the SHIELD agents, the pair were not actually that closely acquainted despite nominally working together.
With Sam and Rhodey caught up in the aftermath of Ross’ dramatic downfall, Rogers had headed out on a mission with some of the other Avengers staff instead. It was Clint’s first mission as their handler, guiding Rogers and Romanoff, as well as the Ant-Man, Scott Lang, and their newest team member, Wanda Maximoff. Fury had been the one to bring the woman in, taking the bait that Tony had laid at the awards gala.
He certainly had some inkling of her HYDRA background, but it looked like that was of no concern for the master spy. Which was in keeping with the man’s previous behavior. The ends justified any means, as far as Fury was concerned.
On this occasion, the Avengers’ mission was to track down and detain an infamous former SHIELD agent and publicly identified HYDRA brute. Rumors had placed him in Lagos, Nigeria; so, it was there that the Avengers had gone.
“Sir,” JARVIS said, interrupting Tony in the middle of a bout of frenzied invention.
With everything that had happened in D.C. the week before, he had decided to take a few days off and refocus before moving on to the next phase of his plan. At this moment, he was in the middle of implementing a refinement to the new rune sequence, one that looked promising. If it worked as expected, the sequence would enhance the time bubble that formed inside the Extremis Ward. Inside the bubble, a person’s physical responses slowed to a crawl while their mental faculties remained unaffected.
This gave the Extremis volunteers a fighting chance at halting or even reversing the runaway effect that culminated in their violently lethal spontaneous combustion symptoms. While the previous implementation of the design had proven successful, Tony was not entirely satisfied. There was always room for improvement.
Additional time only did so much. If the wearer of the Ward could not regain control, they were still going to go up in flames. That was unacceptable to Tony. He was determined to develop a guaranteed solution.
“Whatcha got, J?” Tony said absently, his mind still focused on his work.
“My apologies for the interruption, but there is breaking news coming out of Africa right now. The incident is one that I believe you will be interested in observing.”
“Oh, really,” Tony said, setting aside the etching tool and raising his arms in a massive stretch. “Better throw it up on the main screen.”
JARVIS followed his creator’s instructions. One of the large monitors filled with a CNN news report, where live camera views showed footage of a motorcycle chase through the busy city. The red, white, and blue of the uniform on the pursuer made his identity obvious.
“Captain America,” Tony said. “What’s he up to?”
“My data indicates that there is an Avengers mission in process, the hunt for a dangerous fugitive.”
“Oh,” Tony asked, even as he caught a glimpse of the ugly red energy that was the physical signature of the Scarlet Witch. “Do tell.”
“According to the SHIELD records, the person that Captain Rogers is chasing is one Brock Rumlow, aka Crossbones.”
“That asshole?”
While Tony had never directly had any contact with the man, he’d certainly heard some stories about him. STRIKE had quite the reputation in SHIELD, and even from the depths of the Oubliette, Tony had still managed to hear the gossip. Rumlow was known as a powerful and vicious fighter, a man with few limits or morals. In other words, a perfect candidate for HYDRA.
Tony had not been surprised to come across his name on that organization’s list in the files that they had gleaned from the data dump. The only surprising thing was the fact that he’d not done more damage in his departure from SHIELD.
“So, it would seem, Sir,” JARVIS replied.
The conversation paused as they watched a bit of red energy flow into the cab of the truck that Crossbones was passing. A moment later, the vehicle swerved sharply to the left, forcing the man on the motorcycle to jump the median to avoid getting hit. The cycle hit a patch of oil as it landed, spinning out and sliding across the remaining lanes.
Rogers, who was following close behind, had better luck in his own jump. He managed to stay upright but still had to disembark anyways because Rumlow, having survived the motorcycle’s slide, had gotten out of the wreckage. His limping form had disappeared from the view of the camera, with the good Captain in hot pursuit.
The view on the screen switched to a split screen, with one half showing an overhead view of the crowded outdoor market where the pursuit was still ongoing while the other half was filled with the studio hosts. A ticker scrolled across the bottom of the screen, with the words “Breaking News: Avengers on the scene in Lagos” cycling in and out of view.
Tony didn’t bother trying to turn the volume on to hear the words of the talking heads. Instead, he rolled his way over to the nearest computer screen.
“Do we know what Rumlow was doing in Lagos?”
“Uncertain,” JARVIS admitted. “Though there is some indication that it might be related to the Winter Soldier.”
The AI’s speech paused before continuing. It wasn’t more than a moment, but Tony knew that with JARVIS’ computing power, that single moment represented a significant thought.
“I must admit, Sir, that I do know for a fact that the Winter Soldier has indeed been in Lagos in recent days. He was seen by some of the staff at the women’s shelter that the Wakandans have established there in Nigeria’s largest city. It seems that the soldier, or ingcuka emhlophe, the white wolf, as the locals call him, has been acting as a protector of women and children in the slums around where the shelter is located.”
“And you didn’t tell me,” Tony over-exaggerated his shock, though he had to admit feeling a bit hurt.
Why would JARVIS keep this a secret?
“It was not relevant before now. Your plans with Mister Rogers do not require the actual presence of his long-lost ‘Bucky’, and I must honor the trust which Madame Nakia has granted me, to allow me full access to her team’s data.”
“Of course, J,” Tony said, his hurt easing. “Just look at you, all grown up and balancing loyalties so carefully. But now that it is important, I need you to tell me just one thing. Is Barnes still there in Lagos?”
“Sources would indicate that the soldier was spooked by Rumlow’s arrival. He hasn’t been seen for days. I am quite certain that he is long gone by now.”
“Okay, then.”
Over on the still-streaming television, a crimson flash bloomed in the live footage. It looked like some kind of explosion had just occurred.
What just happened? Tony wondered.
Chapter 16: A Question of Loyalty
Point-of-View Character: SHIELD Director Nicholas J. Fury
“Barton, tell me what you’ve got?”
The noise and bustle of the ops center during an active mission flowed over Nick, cresting, and breaking like a wave across his senses.
“Good Afternoon, Director,” Barton replied. Rather than answer right away, he stepped away from the station where he had been observing one of the local feeds. It was the work of a moment before he reached Nick’s side. From there, he turned back to observe the controlled chaos with him.
It was still quite strange, seeing Barton dressed in a suit and tie, rather than his previous uniform, the one that he wore in the field. But if Barton felt any stress or discomfort in returning to the organization in a vastly different role from the one he once held, he didn’t allow it to show. Instead, he looked to be following the example of his own former handler, Phil Coulson, in his method of projecting unerring competency around his co-workers and subordinates.
Nick could respect that in a man.
“We have the first reports coming in from the field now, Sir. The support staff has been deployed on-site, prepped, and ready to offer assistance as needed. The Scarlet Witch has reached her assigned position, with her spotter. They are reporting that they are ready to cover our close-quarter assets if the need arises.”
“Captain America is also reporting that he is in position, with a heavily shrunken Ant-Man in place on his shoulder. They are responsible for the primary exit point on the building.”
“Meanwhile, Nat… Excuse me, I mean, the Black Widow,” Barton flushed at his mistake but pushed through with his report. “Is about to head inside, to the target’s currently reported location. She will be attempting to parlay with the target, former Agent Rumlow, in the hopes that we will be able to bring him in without the necessity of a physical altercation.”
“Should she succeed in her efforts, she has been instructed to guide to target to exit via the doorway where Captain America is waiting to support.”
Nick nodded, sounds good so far.
“And should her efforts fail?” He asked. He knew the answer that SHIELD’s handbook required and wanted to make sure that Barton did as well.
“Orders state that the mission is to apprehend the target through any means necessary. Without conflict is preferred, but my agents have been told to take any and all actions that may be required to ensure that he does not escape our grasp.”
Good.
Barton had a reputation, back when he was a field agent, for being uncomfortable with making tough choices like the ones that he had just stated. As it was through one such call that SHIELD had first recruited the Black Widow, a former target, Nick wasn’t entirely opposed to the idea. But as a handler, it was Barton’s responsibility to toe the policy line. He could no longer be the cowboy, going off half-cocked. Now he had to be the one to rein them in.
It seemed that Barton had more to add.
“As a former SHIELD Agent and support officer for the Avengers, Brock Rumlow is quite familiar with our standard practices as well as the Black Widow’s standard skillset. I have warned my team to be prepared for the unexpected, including moves which may be based on that knowledge.”
Nick nodded. As he looked out into the room, he caught a glimpse of Romanoff, visible on one of the fixed camera feeds. In contrast to the dark leather catsuit that she wore in her role as a fighter, the outfit of the day was designed to fit into the environment rather than stand out. A lightweight sundress, thin enough that he could see the sunlight through the gap between her legs, shifted and moved with each step. Paired with a set of strap-laden sandals, a wide-brimmed sunhat, sunglasses, and a large woven purse, the outfit screamed ‘American or Western European Tourist’.
In a place like Lagos, her pale skin was guaranteed to stand out next to the darker complexions worn by the locals. As such, it was smart to use this to her advantage. While everyone around her knew that she was there, most of them eyed her with derision or avarice, not caution.
“What is her character?” Nick asked.
“She’s playing at being a so-called ‘Angel of Mercy’, visiting the poor of Africa as part of a Christian mission trip, that kind of thing. Should anyone ask, she is there to visit a poor soul who had made an appearance at the shelter where she has been serving. It has the benefit of being the truth. She did spend a bit of time at the shelter earlier, asking questions. The target has apparently made more than one visit there in recent days.”
“Any indications why?”
“Unclear, Sir. He may have been performing his own form of surveillance, but if so, we are not sure who he would be watching. The Wakandans, perhaps? That facility is one of several that has recently received humanitarian aid from that country.”
“Interesting,” Nick mused.
Wakanda. Now that was a fascinating thought, especially if it did pan out.
When the data dump had made that nation’s true position public, he had thought that it might be an unexpected blessing amid turmoil, an opportunity to weaken the indomitable might of the isolationist country. At first, that hope had been worn out. Between bad publicity and hostile neighbors, the Wakandans had appeared to be scrambling.
But then, after months of problems, that fall had reversed. Instead of collapsing under pressure, Wakandan leadership had blossomed into something entirely new and unique in the political arena. An African country that not only stood toe-to-toe with the Western giants but managed to overawe them. Between the public demonstration of their unique and advanced technologies and the wave of humanitarian aid sent to Black communities across the globe, they had repositioned themselves into a new superpower.
As a Black man himself, Nick was proud to see their strength made public. But as the head of SHIELD, he was less than thrilled. Wakanda had long been a thorn in the agency’s side, and now, that thorn had grown into a dagger. If Crossbones had a viable Wakandan target in mind, then SHIELD would be overjoyed to claim it.
On the screen before him, Agent Romanoff had disappeared inside the building where their target was hiding.
With the visual gone, Nick turned his attention to the audio.
Looking over at Barton, he indicated a desire to hear what was being said. A moment later, his earpiece was filled with the environmental sounds of the Black Widow’s movement through the hallways of the run-down building. He heard the shouting of men and women, doors opening and shutting, and even the cries of children as they ran through the space.
“Approaching the location, now,” Romanoff said, speaking into the com that Nick knew was tucked into the collar of her dress.
There was the sound of a knock, followed by the groan of a door in disrepair being slowly opened.
“Romanoff.”
Rumlow’s voice was hoarse and scratchy as if it had been damaged. In tone, it sounded neutral, if wary with suspicion.
“Brock,” Romanoff replied. “You have to know why I’m here.”
There was no reply audible, but Nick would bet that the man had nodded.
“Good, then there’s no point in belaboring the point.”
The conversation that followed was a master class in intelligence gathering. Both Romanoff and Rumlow were highly skilled and experienced interrogators, fighting back and forth for every crumb of information. Looking around the room, Nick could see most of the agents were engrossed in listening to the byplay, eyes wide in awe, and in some cases, fear.
He marked those faces for further investigation. With the organizational shake-up that had come out of the HYDRA exposure, a lot of people had been pushed into new roles and/or responsibilities within the Agency, some of which might not be a good fit in the long run. Not to mention the possibility of HYDRA plants who had been missed, either due to skill or previous low rank.
For a master spy, paranoia was a way of life, one that Nick continued to maintain.
Turning his attention back toward the com, Nick realized that things had turned.
“So, that’s it then,” Romanoff said, “The Winter Soldier. You have a viable lead.”
A squawk burst from the com.
On one of the screens, a camera view showed Captain America break cover, heading directly toward the building where Romanoff and Rumlow were conversing. Civilians yelled as he pushed through pedestrians, making no attempt to be subtle in his movement. Car horns squealed as he ran across the busy street, dodging in front of moving traffic.
“Shit,” one of the handlers said, as the room erupted into action.
Barton thumbed on his com, ordering the Captain to stand down. At the same time, several of the field agents, the ones stationed at various points around the building, began moving in, though at a much slower pace.
It seemed that the change in the environmental noise was audible to Rumlow, as he commented, “And that’s my cue. Nice chatting with you, Agent Romanoff.”
Before Romanoff could say anything, the former SHIELD agent apparently exploded into action. There was the sound of breaking glass before the outside noise became more audible.
“He’s gone out the window,” Romanoff said, speaking into her com. “Should I pursue?”
“Others will handle that,” Barton replied.
“I need you to control the scene. Make sure that no one has a chance to get inside of the space before we clear it for evidence of Rumlow’s plans.”
—–
The chase that followed was nothing short of catastrophic.
Rogers showed no signs of hesitation as he plowed through people and objects in his determination to reach the fleeing former STRIKE leader. Nick was already beginning to compile a list of people and organization which he would have to deal with in the aftermath of this day’s mess as the destruction grew and expanded.
By the time an explosion marred Lagos’ skyline, a pre-arranged detonation that was used by Rumlow to evade capture a vein in Nick’s temple was throbbing.
“What a cluster fuck,” he said, his voice dry. He turned to Barton, laying his hand on the younger man’s shoulder. “Do your best to get everything wrapped up and start the process of bringing our people home. It seems that I have some calls to make.”
—–
“Ladies, Gentlemen, Agents, and Heroes; let us begin.”
Having claimed the place at the head of the table, Nick took a moment to engage in eye contact with every single individual who was seated around the conference room’s large oval table. Each person’s response to his subconscious inquiry was in keeping with his understanding of their personality. The experienced agents who had been on the ground in Lagos, including an unusually serious Barton, met his eye without issue. Romanoff did as well, though her countenance was tinged with an unusual flush. As she had been the one that Rumlow had managed to slip past to start the highly publicized chase, it was an understandable response.
She’s gotten lazy, Nick thought. Spending so long in a position that is either in the field as an Avenger or at Stane’s beck and call has dulled some of the fire that she once possessed. I can’t remember the last time that she mentioned the red in her ledger, not like she used to do. Perhaps a reminder is needed to keep her firmly in our court.
Nick had to admit that Romanoff was a useful tool, especially when it came to playing the honeypot, and her glaring psychological issues made it easy to play her like a fiddle. She was not the grand mastermind that her training had made her believe, a fact that he knew very well. But right now, she felt more like a liability than an asset.
The same thing went for Rogers. That man had the audacity to remain oblivious to the projection of authority that had most people following his commands regardless of actual status. Instead, Captain America met his eye without blinking, his jaw set in a mulish frown.
That will need to be handled delicately.
Now was not the time to antagonize their prize asset, the man whose public image kept the vultures at bay. Like Romanoff, he would need to be handled, though the tools needed would be different. Instead of preying on guilt, Nick would have to flatter and reassure.
Annoying but again, manageable.
The Ant-Man, Scott Lang, was a near non-entity, dropping his gaze as soon as they made eye contact. The man hadn’t really done anything on this mission, good or bad, so there was no real work to do there.
Then there was Wanda Maximoff, the new recruit. She was still a bit of a wild card, both in terms of psychology and skill set. So far, however, Nick liked what he saw. She paired well with Rogers, tapping into his need to ‘protect’ the weak, while her willingness to get her hands dirty, as could be seen in the trail of damage and mental strain that she left in her wake on the recent mission, was an asset.
The only real concern that he had related to the control of her powers. Most of the time, she seemed to be managing well. The failure to contain the full extent of the kinetic blast that Rumlow had triggered when cornered was an anomaly, but not one that had him worried. She had somewhat managed it, containing the blast for some time until the intensity overwhelmed her. Her failure came when the dam broke, and the contained energy blasted outward in all directions. Sure, she could have directed the blast like a shaped charge by simply dropping her containment in sections instead of all at once, but that was just a matter of further training.
With her mental enhancement allowing her access to the minds of others, Nick knew that intense eye contact with Maximoff was not wise. So, when he reached her position, his gaze focused on the center of her forehead, close enough to trigger a subconscious response while avoiding any opportunity for her to see into his mind.
The final person he looked to, seated at the opposite end of the table, was his Deputy Director, Maria Hill. Like him, she was there to get answers regarding what had happened in Africa. In this case, the look he gave was one of command.
Go ahead, start with the questions, it said.
Hill did.
The first part of the debrief went smoothly. Barton and his team of handlers discussed the mission brief, resource collection, and the preliminary plan for the deployment, as well as the gaps that were present in their knowledge at the time. The personnel on the ground, the Avengers included, reported on the steps taken to get in position, ready for all imagined contingencies. So far, everything appeared to have gone smoothly.
They didn’t bother to contact the Nigerian government to get approval for the mission, but that is business as usual. We are an international intelligence agency. We don’t report to any government, let alone that of a poor African nation.
Next came the first revelation of guilt, as Romanoff justified her failure to block Rumlow in his attempts to flee. It was here that the handlers mentioned the first efforts to bring the locals into the loop.
“We tried to get them to clear the area, but they refused to follow our demands,” one of the Agents said, and everyone around the table nodded.
“Typical,” Rogers added. “Don’t they know who we are?”
As if everyone bows down before the great Captain America.
Nick Fury may prefer that everyone do what says, but he was a realist. Human beings just weren’t very good at obedience, regardless of the one giving the orders.
“And what were you doing, breaking cover like that?” Hill asked.
“He was talking about Bucky,” Rogers said. “Rumlow knows where he is hiding. I need to make sure that he doesn’t hurt him!”
Nick couldn’t help it, he let out a small sigh.
Of course, saving his best friend from the possibility of danger is more important than obeying orders.
Once again, he contemplated the idea of cutting Rogers’ loose, then dismissed it.
SHIELD needs the positive publicity that having Captain America on their team provides, he thought.
“I understand,” he said, soothing Rogers’ ego, “But we would all appreciate it, next time if you could give us a heads up before you move. That would have made it easier for us to provide you with backup.”
Rogers smiled, appeased.
“I’ll try to remember that for next time,” he said, nodding his head in agreement.
No, you won’t, Nick thought. He looked towards Barton, seeing clear understanding on his face, before turning to meet Hill’s eye. She looked furious, her knuckles white with how hard she was clenching the tablet in her hand. But she followed his lead, nonetheless.
“Moving on, then,” she said. “Let’s go over the chase.”
—–
“What was that?!” Hill demanded once the room was cleared. While she was an excellent administrator, Nick had to admit that the woman was starting to get on his nerves.
Why couldn’t she understand the importance of keeping Captain America on their ‘side’? His public reputation as a champion for truth, justice, and the American way was one of the only reasons that SHIELD as an organization has survived the HYDRA reveal.
‘If Captain America trusts this version of SHIELD, then they must be different from the evil people that had been ousted by his actions with the data dump.’
That is the narrative that we’ve used to weather the turmoil. If we go against Captain America, then we will lose the largest part of our public credibility. And if that happens, then SHIELD’s ability to do our job will be compromised.
“Now, Maria,” he said.
“Don’t you, now, Maria’ me, Nicholas. How can you allow Rogers to continue to carry on as he has been? Can’t you see that he’s getting worse and worse?”
“Nonsense,” Nick replied. “The good Captain is merely anxious about his friend’s well-being. We must continue to support his search for ‘Bucky’, no matter the consequences.”
“Oh…. You…” For a moment, it almost seemed like Hill was about to get physical, but then she managed to regain her calm.
“If that is all that you have to say, then I am afraid that Phil was right. You’ve gone too far down this path for me to follow.”
Both of her eyes bore into his single one.
“Director Fury, consider this my formal two weeks’ notice. My resignation letter will be on your desk before the end of the day. Don’t worry, I will honor the terms of my employment, but I find that I can no longer swallow the compromises that this job has increasingly come to require.”
Turning on her heel, she walked out.
That was… excessive.
Nick had to admit that he was surprised, and if he were honest, perhaps even a bit impressed. He didn’t think that Hill had that in her. But if that was how she was feeling, then it was for the best that she left the organization.
In the meantime, he would have to make sure that she kept her mouth shut about all the secrets that she knew. With what had happened to Ross, the organization couldn’t afford to deal with further bad press.
He had counted on the man, with his military and political influence, to help manage that side of things. Instead, Ted’s ridiculous obsession with super-soldiers in general, and the Hulk, in particular, had been his downfall. It was all that Nick could do to keep SHIELD from going down with him.
Of course, Stane had been no help there. Obadiah only cared about his own self-interest, which wasn’t a surprise. It was still a point of frustration for the ultimate spymaster.
It does make one wonder, Nick thought, whether things would have been different if we hadn’t backed Stane’s play on Stark. Tony Stark was an arrogant playboy, a loose cannon, but one with a tremendous amount of potential. With the right leverage, he could have made an excellent public foil to balance against Rogers’ ineptitude.
He sighed. Hindsight is twenty-twenty, and all that.
With the departure of Coulson, and now Hill, Nick was running out of reliable subordinates to fulfill critical roles in the organization. Barton’s return, useful though it had proven to be, was a drop in the bucket compared to what was needed.
Nick was almost tempted to recall Sitwell, bringing him out from where he stood as a guardian over the most dangerous secrets in SHIELD’s arsenal. And speaking of which, perhaps it was time to make a visit to the younger man’s posting.
—–
The following day found Nick leaving the confines of the District of Columbia, heading out to a quiet area a few hours away from the hectic seat of power. Driving through the muggy, oppressive heat of mid-summer, Nick was grateful that the lack of company meant that he could forego his iconic black leather for a far more comfortable cotton t-shirt. Along with the car’s air-conditioning, it kept sweat from forming around his torso, pooling along the small of his back, as it frequently did at this time of year.
He had even swapped out his black leather eyepatch for a lighter cotton one. It was as close to incognito as Nick Fury ever bothered to be, appropriate for the day’s outing.
As he pulled through the massive, wrought iron gates, and up the drive that led to the main building, Nick looked out across the verdant grounds. There, spread out in pairs or small groups, were the inhabitants of the facility. Each group included at least one white-clothed individual, a nurse or orderly providing supervision and keeping watch over their charges. With his experienced eye, Nick was able to spot signs of concealed weapons as well as the less obvious signs of combat training that many of them sported.
As he drove past, many of these men and women looked over and caught his eye, nodding in acknowledgment of his identity as they did so.
Everything looks to be in order, Nick thought, pleased. At least there is one SHIELD location that is not causing me any grief.
The facility that he was visiting had a two-fold purpose. First, it provided a secure place for those former agents or assets who had survived their time in service, offering a place to spend their golden years in protective custody. Many of these individuals had, at one point or another, been Nick’s superiors in the organization that he now led. Now, they stood as his responsibilities. People such as the former Director Margaret ‘Peggy’ Carter, whose Alzheimer’s symptoms left her mind and the secrets that it held vulnerable.
It was the responsibility of the staff to ensure that Ms. Carter’s waning years remained comfortable, while at the same time keeping her from spilling any of the multitude of dangerous secrets that lingered inside her skull.
But former assets weren’t the only inhabitants of the facility. It also doubled as a hospital and mental asylum for those SHIELD prisoners who required a high level of care or medical attention to keep them in the realm of the living. It was one of those individuals who Nick would be visiting today.
“How is he doing today,” Nick asked as he parked the car and walked up to the facility’s front stoop, where one of his agents stood waiting.
“No different from the usual, Sir,” Sitwell replied with a frown. “His condition has remained stable for some months. Mentally, he’s fully there inside of his mind, but physically…” he shook his head. “The paralysis that holds him hostage has remained unabated.”
Excellent, Nick thought. Pierce is a dangerous man, but locked away inside of his mind he is of no real risk to my plans.
Not for the first time since the failure of Project Insight and the data dump that exposed HYDRA lurking within SHIELD, he wondered whether it was wise to keep his old mentor in the land of the living. Having suffered a massive stroke at the climax of the fight in D.C., Pierce’s survival had been at great risk. If it weren’t for the informational bombs that Nick knew the former US Secretary of State had hidden behind various dead man’s switches, he would likely have not left the Triskelion alive. Thankfully, while the man had survived the necessary surgeries, the aftermath of his stroke had left him unable to use much of his body. Pierce was unable to speak anything other than garbled nonsense, stand up or walk, or even move much at all.
As such, sending him off to molder here had been an obvious choice. It got him out of D.C., keeping him and his secrets safe from trial or committee meetings while at the same time ensuring that he couldn’t come back and endanger the still fragile new evolution of the organization that he had once run.
“Have you had any progress in finding the traps that he left intact?”
“Some, Sir,” Sitwell replied. “We have managed to identify and disable two more HYDRA sleeper cells who attempted to infiltrate the facility and remove Mister Pierce from our care. In the process, they led us to the information caches which had triggered their awakening.”
“Good to hear,” Nick said. “Is there any other news to report?”
“Not much, Sir,” Sitwell replied. “Except that, well, I’m afraid that Ms. Carter has taken another turn. The medical staff has informed me that they expect the end to come soon.”
“That is a shame to hear,” Nick said, more for courtesy’s sake than anything else. “We will have to make sure that everything is in place for her memorial once the time comes.”
It would be a good distraction for Rogers if nothing else. Something to interrupt his obsessive chasing after ‘Bucky’.
Chapter 17: Measure of a Man
“Mister Rogers,” Tony said, walking over to offer his hand. “This is an unexpected pleasure.”
At that moment, he was fully engaged in his role as Edward Loptsson, a useful resource for Rogers in saving Bucky from those who wanted to hurt him.
“I was not expecting to see you until the next gala event. Or did we have an appointment that my staff failed to properly schedule?”
“Nothing like that, Mister Loptsson,” Rogers replied, shuffling his feet in an obvious ‘oh, shucks’ routine. Mentally rolling his eyes, Tony wondered how much time Rogers had spent developing this little act, whether it was deliberate or a matter of habit.
Probably some combination of the two. Dear old dad used to talk about Rogers’ ‘goodness’, and how that was what got him selected for Project Rebirth. It sounded like so much bullshit when he told it, and now that I’ve seen it in action I stand by my earlier opinion.
Rogers isn’t good; he’s stubborn and self-centered.
In his thoughts, he’d almost missed the fact that Rogers had continued speaking.
“… I wonder if a man like you might be able to help.”
Wait, what was he asking for?
“I know from Sam that you’ve helped make sure that his friend Riley’s deceased client had his name cleared posthumously, taking him from a villain to a victim.”
“Bucky deserves the same chance.”
His eyes stared into ‘Edward’s, all big and blue.
Oh, Rogers. Save the spiel for someone who cares.
“I am uncertain as to what you would expect me to do, Mister Rogers. From what I understand, Mister Barnes is currently missing, out of reach of both help and harm.”
Rogers blustered a bit, talking about how he could handle finding ‘Bucky’ himself.
“It’s just that, well,” the man flushed, “I may not really understand how everything works in this new version of America. General Ross had promised to help me protect Bucky, but now that he’s gone…”
“Ah, I see,” Tony said, “you would like my assistance in dealing with a potential trial.”
“What?! Trial! No, I want you to make sure that they can’t kill him once I find him.”
For a moment, Tony just stared. Surely Rogers didn’t really think…
But then he remembered, this was the man who had never really left the war behind him. Firing squads were a thing that happened, especially out there on the bleeding edge of a world war. With all of the human rights violations that occurred, from the Red Skull and HYDRA to the horrors of the Holocaust, the idea of a death sentence was not out of the realm of possibility for a veteran of that conflict.
Add in the fact that Rogers had been serving within SHIELD since his defrosting, and he would have a very skewed view of what was legally allowed as punishment in the eyes of the courts.
Well, that was an easy promise to make.
“I see,” he said. “Then, in that case, it would be my honor to offer my services on your friend’s behalf. I am certain that it would be possible to prevent such a drastic sentence from being laid down.”
—–
“You never did tell me, J, why have you put a meeting with Erik Stevens on my calendar?”
Not that I’m opposed to the meeting.
He’d been impressed with Erik, otherwise known by his Wakandan name of N’Jakada, long lost prince of Wakanda, during their previous encounters.
Erik’s role in the events which took down the leaders of the organization that had been attempting to control that nation’s legacy had been a thing of beauty. Like Tony himself, Erik had sought vengeance for both himself and his father. And, despite the depth of his rage, he had managed to accomplish his goal without turning into a monster himself. Now, having fallen into the bosom of his native country and their royal family, his own blood relatives, he had embraced a new way of living.
Erik’s current position, as part-babysitter, and part-protector for his precocious cousin as she ventured into unfamiliar territory in the United States was a part of that new life. With little Shuri as JARVIS’ boon companion, he had no doubt that the meeting before him was the work of his electronic son.
“It was at Erik’s request, Sir. He has expressed a desire to meet with Edward privately, to discuss a matter of some delicacy.”
“Oh?”
Strange that the J-man doesn’t want to elaborate…
“Fine. Keep your secrets, then.”
I guess that I’ll just have to go blind. Not my favorite, but also not that terrible.
“Excellent, Sir. Now, I’ve done you both the service of arranging for a private dining room at the Capitol Grille. With my security in place, there is no way that any part of your conversation will become public.”
“Thoughtful of you, J.”
“I do my best, Sir.”
—–
Leaving the hotel suite where he had been ensconced, Tony in the guise of Edward Loptsson made his way downstairs to the lobby. There, he was met by the newest member of his entourage, the speedster Pietro Maximoff. Following Ross’ defeat, and death, the Enhanced man had offered his services on a closer basis.
While Tony trusted Wong and the Ancient One’s report regarding both his character and mental state, he was still hesitant to grant Pietro full access to his identity. He was quite familiar with the intense levels of hatred that the man’s sister had shown herself capable of producing, and given the twins’ background with Anthony Stark, he wanted to test the waters for a bit before providing a complete review.
For now, the man had been put to work as a subordinate under Edward’s purview, a powerful protector and escort intended to be seen in the public eye.
“Mister Loptsson,” Pietro said as he walked up, “The car is ready and waiting for you, just outside.”
Tony didn’t bother to speak. Instead, he nodded, his face neutral in its expression.
Turning on his heel, Pietro spun around. He led the way to where a high-end town car waited, opening the rear passenger door for Tony to get inside. Once his employer was safely seated, Pietro swung the door shut with a sharp motion. Moving around the front of the vehicle, he claimed his own set at the wheel and set off.
Tony knew that this trip was one of the first times that Pietro had been to Washington, D.C. But, somehow, the Sokovian native was able to navigate the busy streets of the American capitol without any signs of hesitation. A consequence of his enhancements, most likely. With the increase in his cognitive processing abilities, he would be able to see and respond to external stimuli faster than the unenhanced could observe. It was this skill that made him so valuable as a protector.
Sure, Tony could provide himself with passive protection; the Wards of his Mystical specialty were of particular benefit there. But those Wards, when triggered, were the opposite of subtle. Meanwhile, Pietro was able to react to dangers near-instantaneously, countering them without attracting any attention from the average public.
“How are you settling in, here, Pietro,” Tony asked as the car glided through the hectic traffic, making its way to the restaurant. “With our division of the Order, I mean. From what I understand, you have very little love for the West and a large fraction of our group is from that region of the globe.”
“Everyone has been quite welcoming,” Pietro replied. “And I have found that, regardless of their heritage, joining the Order provides people with a clear separation from the normal politics of our world.”
“That is true,” Tony agreed. “Studying the Mystic Arts makes one really appreciate just how small our globe is on the grander scale of things. With that in mind, the mundane politics of the nations of our births just seem… petty.”
“Exactly. At any rate,” Pietro continued. “I volunteered for the study that led to my Enhancements out of a desire to make things right. From what I’ve seen, your cause is much the same. You seek vengeance, much as my sister and I did, but you have somehow managed to avoid the pitfalls into which we fell so deeply. To allow our revenge to blind us to the monstrous nature of our chosen alliance, to the point where we joined up with an organization like HYDRA.”
“Thank you for the compliment,” Tony said.
“I speak nothing but the truth.”
The conversation trailed off, as Pietro turned the bulk of his attention back towards the front windshield and the traffic ahead of them. Meanwhile, Tony found his mind wandering.
Am I really so wise? Or is it just luck, that I happened upon the right people, ones who have helped me without allowing me to fall?
The question was one that continued to haunt him, even as the town car completed its journey through the busy streets and reached its destination. Pietro got out, and, as Tony watched through the raised window, he handed them off to the restaurant’s valet service on his way to open Tony’s door.
Only after that act was completed, did ‘Edward Loptsson’ step out.
—–
It seemed that JARVIS’ preparations had been appropriately thorough, as the restaurant’s hostess didn’t even wait for Tony to reach the entry door. Instead, she came out from behind her podium to meet him, a fixed smile in place.
“Mister Loptsson,” she said, as they stepped past the door that the usher held open and into the entry, “Welcome to the Capitol Grille. We are delighted to have you visiting us. If you will follow me, the other party has already arrived and is awaiting your presence.”
Despite his happily stable relationship status, Tony was still a man. As such he couldn’t help but admire the woman’s shapely derriere, framed as it was in a closely fitted dress. The look was in character for a man like Edward Loptsson, so he didn’t bother to hide his appreciation. So long as he didn’t allow his look to turn into a blatant leer, it was well within the bounds of acceptable behavior.
Glancing over at Pietro, he noticed that the younger man wasn’t in the same headspace. Instead, he was taking his ‘job’ of security seriously. His head was on a swivel, paying close attention to each and every person that they passed. At this hour of the day, the main dining room was quite busy, with staffers and lobbyists of various stripes socializing or conducting business over a formal lunch.
The space where she brought them was small, but well appointed, with heavy damask drapes which serve to further muffle any sounds that might pass between it and the rest of the restaurant. As the hostess had stated, the single table was already partially occupied, with the familiar face of Erik Stevens.
“Hey, man,” Erik said, standing up to offer his hand for Tony to shake. “Thanks for meeting with me.”
“It was no real trouble,” Tony replied, taking the open seat. Behind him, he could hear Pietro waving the hostess out, before leaving to take up a position in front of the closed door. With him in place, there would be no way for an eavesdropper to sneak in and hear what was being said.
“I must admit that your request has left me feeling quite curious. What might I have to offer a Wakandan prince?”
“Your advice, mostly,” the younger man admitted. “Given your reputation, I hoped that you might have some insight on how I can help my friend deal with an ugly situation.”
A friend, Tony thought, I wonder who that might be?
His curiosity was sincerely meant. Despite the research that he’d done during JARVIS’ hunt for the missing prince, he knew very little about the man’s personal relationships.
“Oh?”
They paused for a moment as Pietro knocked, then allowed the server to come in with their appetizers. Once the door was closed again, the conversation continued.
“It’s kind of an odd story,” Erik said. “I don’t know if you remember from our previous discussion, but in my early adulthood I spent some years serving in the American special forces.”
He took a bite, as Tony nodded.
“Well, during my time in the field, I had several encounters with a unique individual. To most people in the business, he was a ghost, but I was lucky enough to actually get to talk to him on more than one occasion.”
Tony was starting to see where this was going…
“He is known as the Winter Soldier.”
Yup, there it was.
“But I know him as Yasha.”
Unlike Rogers’ ridiculous tale of the innocent ‘Bucky’, Erik was far more pragmatic. He didn’t deny the soldier’s kills, recognizing the foolishness of making the attempt. Indeed, he spoke highly of the former HYDRA asset’s skills in that brutal arena, having witnessed the conclusion of several of the older man’s missions.
Instead, Erik painted a picture of the man locked behind the mask, the fighter who refused to completely surrender his personality despite literal decades of abuse. A man, Tony realized as he listened, with a history not unlike his own.
The thought battled with his previous determination. While he knew, intellectually, that the Winter Soldier was just the weapon used by others, the fact remained that the man’s arm had been used to end the lives of several important people from his past. Howard and Maria Stark. Pepper Potts and Happy Hogan. All of them had died at his merciless hands.
Erik’s tale came to an end, just as the servers brought in their desserts. After they left once again, the man wrapped up by saying:
“At my request, my uncle, King T’Chaka, has been gracious enough to grant Yasha sanctuary in his lands. With help from Wakanda’s esteemed physicians and psychologists, our scientists believe that we will be able to ensure that the cruel programming that HYDRA has used to control Yasha in the past will no longer be an issue for him in the future.”
“But what is a future without true freedom? Between the world’s knowledge of the Winter Soldier’s actions through the data dump, and Captain America’s public hunt for his ‘Bucky’, even the safety of our borders may not be enough to protect him.”
“And that is why I came to you, Edward. You have proven yourself adept at detailed investigation and managing public perception, and I hoped that you might be willing to utilize your skills to help my friend escape this state of limbo. It wouldn’t have to be complete exoneration, of course. Yasha has told me that he is willing to accept punishment for his part in the deaths of others. He merely asks for closure.”
Now that, Tony thought, is something that I am willing to do.
Chapter 18: Pride Cometh
Point-of-View Character: SHIELD/HYDRA Agent Jasper Sitwell
“Looks like he’s at it again,” Jasper commented, as he glanced at the television. Reaching out, he picked up the remote control and used it to turn up the volume.
“The news coming out of Bucharest is shocking,” the female host said. “The so-called Captain America, superhero, and leader of the Avengers has been arrested. After several tragedies like the disaster that tore through the heart of Lagos, the world’s trust in the United States’ beloved military icon has been at an all-time low. Given that fact, his rumored attempt to prevent the arrest of the infamous Winter Soldier, ending as it has in a massive amount of collateral damage, has landed him in police custody. Will the American hero’s actions be vindicated, or will he finally be held accountable for his reckless actions? More at eleven.”
Reaching out, Jasper shut off the television, ignoring the protests that he heard.
Going from being a senior handler at one of the most powerful intelligence agencies in the world, to a glorified nursemaid in a senior living center, had been quite an adjustment to make.
But, over time, Jasper had grown accustomed to his new role. He knew that Fury had suspicions about his involvement in HYDRA, but for some reason, the one-eyed man had decided not to leave him exposed. Strangely enough, it felt like he still held the Director’s trust, balanced on the edge of a knife as it was. His new job involved, among other things, ensuring that retired SHIELD personnel, many of whom had achieved very high ranks prior to their retirement, did not become a liability for the agency.
That meant listening to good old Peggy Carter when her Alzheimer’s had her rambling about past missions, events that remained classified even though it had been decades since they occurred. It also meant keeping an eye on Alexander Pierce, still alive despite his body’s refusal to cooperate. But even without the full use of his faculties, Alexander Pierce remained a very clever man. Even if Jasper hadn’t been loyal to his old commander, he was certain that the man would still have found a way to stay informed about the current situation.
And what a situation it was.
When Captain America had first been awoken from his long slumber, Jasper had to admit that he’d been worried. Given the man’s heroic reputation as the leader of the Howling Commandos and the defeater of the Red Skull, he was certain that HYDRA’s presence within the organization would soon be exposed to view.
But he trusted Secretary Pierce. The modern HYDRA leader had reassured him and the other double agents embedded in the upper ranks of the intelligence agency that they had nothing to fear from Rogers.
“That man is infamous, in the right circles, for his inability to recognize anything that isn’t put right in front of his face,” Pierce had said. “During the war, he only succeeded as well as he did for two reasons. One, he somehow managed to recruit a highly effective team of professionals under his command. The other members of the Howling Commandos, particularly his best friend Sergeant James Barnes, were the ones to manage the intelligence side of the business. And two, Rogers’ recklessness in combat made him unpredictable. Our side was unable to plan appropriately for the man’s combat strategies, probably because he didn’t have them. Instead, he charged in, relying almost exclusively on the Enhancements that he had been given to grant him success.”
“So without his old team, he’s not a danger, then,” Jasper had asked.
“Oh, he’s a danger, that is a fact. But he is also if managed correctly, a most valuable asset.”
And for some years, the Secretary of State’s words had proven true. With the right direction, Rogers had been used to deal with any number of problems, taking down powerful enemies to both SHIELD and HYDRA alike.
It wasn’t until his non-HYDRA allies, such as Colonel Rhodes and Agent Romanoff, expressed concerns about the ethics of some of the Avengers’ missions, that Rogers became suspicious. Even then, if the Winter Soldier’s handlers hadn’t screwed up so badly it was likely that the problem would have been solved without public exposure.
Those now-deceased idiots had gotten lazy, failing to follow proper procedure in making sure that the Winter Soldier remained under control. In the process, HYDRA’s ultimate weapon had been left awake long enough to regain enough cognition to start to rebel against his programming. That was what had brought HYDRA low, not Captain America and the Black Widow’s creative actions.
It was pure luck that Jasper had been out of reach, in the field serving as the primary handler for a delicate operation when the fight at the Triskelion went down. As such, he had managed to avoid being branded a HYDRA agent. Instead, his assumed loyalties, or at least his desire to protect both SHIELD and HYDRA secrets, had landed him here.
—–
Leaving the common area where other members of the staff worked to coral the unruly seniors who had been upset by the interruption of the television broadcast, Jasper made his way down the bland beige corridor. Soon, he reached his destination. Taking a deep breath, he stepped inside.
There was always that moment of dysphoria, followed by heartbreak, that followed the sight that met his eyes. To see Alexander Pierce, who had once stood as a giant in Jasper’s mind, reduced to a shell barely able to move. It was a true tragedy.
“Good afternoon, Sir,” he said, walking over to the older man’s side. “How are you doing today?”
The index finger on Pierce’s right hand began to twitch, tapping against the blanket that covered him. His eyes looked square into Jasper’s own, communicating a sense of urgency.
Pierce wanted to speak.
Reaching out, Jasper collected an odd device from the bedside table. With the ease of long practice, he fitted it onto his former boss turned charge’s hand. It was a clever little thing, one which allowed the mostly paralyzed man a way to communicate, albeit at a much slower pace than normal. By moving his index finger, Pierce could use a sequence of long and short movements to send messages to the linked computer. From there, the machine was able to convert them into a written message; one that Pierce could either approve or correct before it was passed on to his audience.
“News,” came the first word. A demand for an update.
“It seems that Rogers has once again screwed the pooch, Sir. He has been arrested for failing to cooperate with an international investigation into the recent bombing.”
“Winter?”
“The Winter Soldier was also apprehended, but from what my contacts have informed me, he wasn’t the one who resisted capture. That was all on the good Captain’s side.”
“Why?”
“Why didn’t he resist? Unclear. There are rumors that he can prove his lack of involvement in the bombing, as well as the presence of new and powerful friends.”
“Who?”
Jasper let out a short laugh. “Believe it or not, the Wakandans.”
“King?”
“Turns out, the Asset was at the site of the bombing. But not as an assailant. Exactly why he was there in the building is unclear, but the rumors that I’ve heard suggest that he was involved in keeping King T’Chaka from being one of the fatalities. Something about defending the King from flying debris.”
“Fast.”
“Yes, he always was a quick bugger, wasn’t he, even with all of the programming.”
“Smart.”
“Yes, yes. I know that he was your favorite. But seriously, sir, I don’t understand your intentions here. Why do you care so much about a rogue asset?”
This time Pierce didn’t bother to respond. Instead, he managed to move his head just enough to look at Jasper.
“Fine, fine. I know your orders. Protect the Winter Soldier, no matter what.”
Then Jasper smiled toothily, before adding.
“And if we happen to throw Rogers under the bus doing so, well that is just the price of doing business.”
If Pierce were able to, Jasper was certain that he would have shared that smile. Instead, he broadcast a simple reply.
“Yes.”
—–
Heading back to his office, Jasper logged into the secure connection that gave him full access to the reformatted SHIELD database. He wanted a full picture of what had happened, not just rumors, and knew that his ‘co-workers’ reports would be the best source of information.
As he read through the data, Jasper found the trail all too easy to follow. It wasn’t exactly what he had expected. His assumption had been that this mess had started with the Sokovia Accords, the bill up for discussion at the site of the bombing, but that wasn’t precisely the case.
Instead, the first chronological event was something that had happened right here, in this facility. The death of Peggy Carter.
It was the unsurprising end of the former SHIELD director’s slow fall at the hands of an incurable disease, an event that Jasper had shrugged off as inconsequential. As far as he was concerned, Carter’s death just meant that he had one less liability to worry about; one less mind which contained dangerous secrets inside of its depths. But for Rogers, that wasn’t the case.
Instead, he had taken the loss of the final contact, outside of Barnes, that came from his previous life quite hard. According to the reports that Jasper read, he had been seen weeping on the casket at one point.
Understandable, I suppose, Jasper thought, she was apparently his great love.
That was the priming pin.
The bombing in Vienna loaded the bullet. Occurring as it did less than a day after Carter’s London funeral, the attack was an overt reminder of his days at war. And when the rumors went public that the Winter Soldier may have been involved, well, that was the trigger. Rogers was off and running.
He had commandeered a SHIELD quinjet, shooting across the channel as fast as was humanly possible. He didn’t even bother to wait for the other Avengers, on stand-down due to the investigation into the Lagos affair. Instead, he simply charged into action.
Curiously, it seemed that he did receive some aid on the ground there in Vienna. It came from one Sharon Carter, a woman who Jasper had to admit that he somewhat admired. In the aftermath of the grand SHIELD/HYDRA reveal, Agent Thirteen had managed to wriggle her way into a cushy position in the F.B.I., all while continuing to collect a SHIELD paycheck. Fury may think that she remained his asset, but Jasper wasn’t so sure.
Reading about how she managed to send Rogers off after his ‘Bucky’, pointing him directly into the midst of the joint task force’s attempt to arrest the Winter Soldier in Bucharest, was not the action of a SHIELD loyalist. Or at least, not one who agreed with Fury’s agenda. That man would have never risked exposing Rogers’ faults in that way.
And expose them, it did.
“He’s such an idiot,” Jasper muttered to himself as he read through the witness statements. “Why would he fight against the authorities? What exactly was he expecting to gain?”
The account read like something out of an action-adventure thriller.
Rogers had apparently managed to track the Asset down to a squalid little apartment, arriving mere minutes ahead of the incoming SWAT team. Then, he managed to set his supposed ‘best friend’ off, starting a fight that trailed out of the space, down to the ground floor, and from there out into the streets of Bucharest.
By the time the international task force managed to take the pair of dueling super soldiers into custody, a substantial portion of the city’s downtown had been damaged, if not outright destroyed. As such, the locals were not particularly happy with the American hero. Luckily for him, the bombing in Vienna had a higher priority over the mess that had just occurred.
So instead of remaining in Romania, they had been moved to Berlin, where the joint task force that had captured them was based. In the meantime, the investigation that he’d already been hearing about was underway. It seemed that it was time for him to head overseas.
—–
Upon landing in Berlin, Jasper immediately headed over to the facility where both Rogers and Barnes were being kept in separate areas. Despite the damage that the man-with-a-plan had wrecked in Bucharest, it seemed that the myth of Captain America still held strong. As a result, while Rogers was technically in custody for his actions, Fury had already managed to get him out on parole.
Meanwhile, the Winter Soldier had been locked down inside a sealed vault, secured in a fixed position on a chair not far removed from the one which had been used during his programming sessions.
“Is all of that really necessary?” Jasper asked, gesturing towards the view that was being broadcast on the monitors.
“But of course,” his companion replied. “It is the Winter Soldier, no? The legendary assassin who has once again struck out against the rightful leaders of our global community. To attack a summit designed to set boundaries on the reach of so-called superheroes. It is a monstrous thing.”
“Has it been confirmed, then? That the bomb was his doing?”
The French inspector raised an eyebrow.
“It is what your Director, Monsieur Fury, has proclaimed. He has vowed that Monsieur Rogers’ part in the affairs in Bucharest occurred at his command. This is why he has been allowed to walk freely after giving us his parole.”
He turned his focus toward Jasper, his eyes intense.
“Unless you have something else to imply, Monsieur… Sitwell, was it?”
“Don’t mind me,” Jasper said, verbally backtracking. “I am a mere Agent, one who is well subordinate to my Director. I have also been in transit for some hours, journeying to your fair city. It is highly likely that I have simply missed a memo.”
As if, Jasper thought. Fury’s lips are merely glued to Captain America’s ass… But this could work to my advantage. If I can manage to sneak in, looping the footage as I go, then I could trigger the Winter Soldier’s programming and regain control of HYDRA’s favorite tool. With the Asset under my control, it would give us the opportunity to reclaim some of our rightful glory.
—–
Before Jasper could act on his idea, someone else did. He was in the process of debriefing with Fury, discussing the plan for dealing with the Budapest aftermath when both of their coms went off simultaneously.
“What?” Fury said, while Jasper, recognizing that their calls came from the same person, merely turned his headset to ON. It was Barton, who had been called in to manage ‘his’ team member.
“Director Fury,” Barton said, over the com, the sound of sirens and chaos coming through behind him. “I’m afraid that we have another situation.”
Fury’s teeth visibly ground.
“Tell me.”
“It looks like the Winter Soldier’s involvement in the Vienna incident was a plant. An individual, identity unknown, looped the camera footage of the cell where the Soldier was being held. With no one watching, they managed to activate some kind of subliminal programming in the Soldier’s psyche. It sent him on a rampage. He has successfully broken out of holding and is in the process of exfiltrating from the area.”
“And Rogers?”
“Despite being on parole, upon overhearing what was going on, he immediately went haring off after his friend. It is an act in direct violation of the conditions set when he was allowed to walk free.”
“Do we have any eyes or ears on either of them?”
“Not at the moment, no.”
Jasper had to admit that he was impressed with Barton’s professionalism in the face of both the situation and Fury’s intensity. It was a far cry from the scruffy former Carnie who Coulson had brought into SHIELD all those years ago. Back then, Barton hid as much as possible, whether that was on the range practicing his shooting, in Coulson’s office, or even up in the Triskelion’s massive HVAC vents, his favorite hiding spaces.
“Keep me informed, then,” Fury said.
“Yes, sir.”
—–
“Excuse me?”
The tone of Barton’s voice was sharp enough to grab Jasper’s attention. Reaching out, he switched his earpiece to the channel that the other handler was on. Doing so would allow him to hear both sides of the conversation.
He tuned in just in time to hear Barton say, “Put him through,” followed by the tone that indicated a change in the speaker on the other end of the line.
“Lang,” Barton said, “what’s the situation?”
“Um, well,” the ‘Ant-Man’s voice sounded unsure as if the man lacked confidence. It was in keeping with what Jasper had seen of the man. While he himself hadn’t worked with Scott Lang, the former thief’s role in the Avengers meant plenty of interactions with members of SHIELD. And, despite the holes in his network following the fall of the SHIELD branch of HYDRA, Jasper still had more than enough pull to gain plenty of inside information about the unlikely superhero.
Having been brought in by Hank Pym, the creator of the suit and the so-called Pym particles which powered it, he was only loosely affiliated with SHIELD. The older man’s long-standing rivalry with the late Howard Stark came with a certain amount of distrust for any organization that the other man had been actively involved in creating or running. That included both SHIELD and Stane’s re-branded SI, as well as many of the members of the Avengers.
But after the events surrounding the New York Invasion had forced him to engage with their sphere, Pym remained in contact with certain members of the intelligence agency. And when the mess with Aaron Cross and PymTech had led to his recruitment of a new frontman, Pym had reluctantly reached out, offering his protégé’s services under the aegis of the newly de-HYDRAfied version of SHIELD and the Avengers.
“I don’t really know what’s going on,” Lang said. “Wanda and I got this call from Steve, saying that there was a mission. Something about stopping HYDRA again. And, like, I know that’s not the normal procedure. We usually get a proper briefing, and everything before heading out into the field, you know.”
The rambling manner of his speech left Jasper wanting to yell at the man. To tell him to come to the point, already. Barton, it seemed, had more patience for Lang’s imprecision. All that he did was make a few humming noises, encouraging Lang to continue.
“So, yeah, that seemed a bit hinky. Still, I thought maybe it was just a matter of getting us over here, you know. That we’d get a proper briefing on the way. But no. That wasn’t the case at all. Instead, we had to hitch a ride with some cargo plane that was bringing supplies across the ocean to Berlin. Then, we got a rental van and drove to this, you know, sketchy-looking warehouse district. And besides Steve, there’s almost no one here. Just his old army buddy, you know, the one who he’s been trying to find.”
“You mean Barnes,” Barton said, his voice painfully neutral.
“Exactly,” Lang replied. “And man does that guy look rough. It’s like he’s not all there, you know. It’s so totally messed up, man,” he added.
“I see,” Barton said. “Did Rogers say anything else, Lang? Something about his plans?”
“His plans?” Lang hesitated, as if thinking, “I… Nah, I don’t think so…”
Then his voice brightened a bit, “Wait! There was something about-“
Another voice came in over the channel.
“Scott,” the voice said. The higher, feminine sound indicated that the speaker was likely to be the man’s companion and new Avenger, Wanda Maximoff.
Now she was an interesting piece of work, Jasper thought.
He’d heard a bit about the Scarlet Witch back when Alexander was overseeing so much of HYDRA’s work. At that point, it was still unclear exactly what her powers would be, but the Baron was already bragging about how he was preparing her to be an excellent asset to the organization. A new, better version of the ladies of the Red Room was what he had called her.
He wasn’t entirely sure what von Strucker’s plan was in getting someone inside of the Avengers, but whatever it was, he was sure that it wouldn’t be good for them. Maximoff was a Trojan Horse, a threat in disguise.
Or maybe not so much in disguise, Jasper thought, as he continued listening. At least, not in terms of SHIELD anyway.
“What are you doing?” the woman said. “Who are you talking to?”
“Um,” Lang said, “I was just going to report, you know.”
Even through the limited sound available in the speaker, Jasper could hear the hint of harmonics that bled into the Witch’s voice.
“You don’t want to do that, do you, Scott?” she said. If the call had been video, Jasper was sure that he would have seen her eyes bleeding into red. “Captain America has called you in. And he is your leader, is he not?”
“Well, yeah,” Scott said, “but… our… oversight…”
“We don’t need any,” she said. “This assignment is off the books, remember?”
“Yeah,” he said. Without another word, he ended the call.
“Well, shit,” Barton said.
Turning to one of his hovering subordinates, he said.
“Please, tell me that someone was tracking that call?”
“Yes, sir,” came the reply. “Looks like they’re somewhere near Leipzig, which is not that far south of where they started in Berlin. With Lang using his secure communicator, we were unable to pinpoint an exact location. But that does give us a starting point.”
“Better than nothing, I suppose,” Barton said.
“Are we sending in someone after them?”
The room went silent.
After a moment, Jasper was surprised to realize that the question had come out of his own mouth.
Well, that’s embarrassing.
Thankfully, Barton took it in stride. Acting as if nothing had been said, he directed his team to continue their work. Then he walked over to Jasper.
Pulling him aside, the younger man brought him out of the earshot of the remainder of the room.
“Sorry about that, Barton,” Jasper said. “I know this is your room, right now.”
“No worries, man,” Barton said with a sharp smile. “You’re used to being the one to make the call, not one of the minions.”
Jasper’s returning smile was tight.
Cocky bastard.
“I’m surprised that you didn’t already hear it from the Director himself. Given that Captain America is a SHIELD asset, the Europeans don’t trust us to handle bringing him in. Instead, they’ve reached out to the Wakandans. It seems that the Black Panther of Wakanda and his people are taking the lead in the pursuit of the fugitives. They did throw the Americans a bone, allowing the Avengers’ new military liaison, Everett Ross, to deploy his assets as support staff. The Iron Soldier and the Falcon are already in the air, hoping to mitigate the blow to their team’s reputation. Last, but certainly not least, the Director did manage to get us thrown a bone. The Black Widow has been assigned as SHIELD’s on-site liaison.”
Interesting. Things are shaping up for a remarkable fight.
