6. Puppet Master

STARK TOWER, NEW YORK CITY- 2 DAYS LATER

"What are you doing?" Steve asked, looking over Clint's shoulder. Clint was sitting in one of the many rooms at Stark Tower that seemed to have no purpose except for access to high tech computers.

Clint was staring at a large screen that showed a three-dimensional model of the earth. There were no details on this globe, it was made out of green lines and was rotating slowly.

"There's something...that people do." Clint said slowly, not taking his eyes off the screen, "People who really care about their pets put a microchip under their skin. This chip has a tracking signal and the chip is registered to the pet's owner. That way, if the pet gets lost, a vet can scan for the chip and contact the owners."

"And?" Steve prodded once he decided he understood the gist of this.

"And...it works for them."

Rodgers looked from Clint, to the globe, and back again.

"You put a tracking chip in your son?" He demanded loudly.

"Calm down, would you? And of course I did. It doesn't have any information that can be traced back to me and Nat, but I should be able to see where he is."

"Which is why you have the glowing earth thing." Steve observed, gesturing at the computer screen.

"Yes, but-"

"But it isn't working." Steve felt his heart sink as he viewed the empty globe.

"It is sometimes. I keep seeing a blip, every now and then, but they appear all over the country. Fury sends men out every time, but there's nothing to find." He sighed deeply and leaned back in his chair, "Someone must be scattering the signal. Which means that someone discovered it, which means someone was looking for it…" He broke off. "Any we delusions we had about him being safe. They were just that. Delusions."

Captain America set his mouth in a grim line, unable to think of an encouraging word.

He left Hawkey to watch the screen and went on a search for Tony. He was not in his lab, or his bedroom, or the kitchen, or the first five computer rooms he checked.

Finally, Steve opened the door to a conference room and found Stark laying on his back on the table. His eyes were fixed on the TV mounted on the wall. It took him a minute to realize he was no longer alone in the room.

"Why," He said loudly as the TV went to commercial, "can I not find privacy in my own building?"

Steve was ignoring him, looking at the television curiously, "What are you watching?"

"Nothing." Stark grumbled, sitting up and turning off the tv.

"No, it said Pretty Little Liars. What's Pretty Little Liars?"

"It's a form of entertainment." Tony answered stiffly.

"But I saw it, why are you watching a show about teenage girls?"

"It happens to be a very complex show with intriguing plot lines. I wouldn't expect you to understand." He added hurriedly, "And though I feel totally confident about this situation, I would very much appreciate it if you could just not tell anyone about this."

"I could not possibly care any less." Steve said with a shrug.

"Did you need me for something?" Tony asked sourly.

"Actually, yes. I was thinking Barton might need your help. Where's Natasha?"

"Basement." Tony grunted as he slid off the table, "She's still making her way through the list."

"I have a question." Steve added seriously. Tony paused on his way to the door, one eyebrow raised expectantly. "If you had a kid-"

"If I had a kid." Tony repeated blankly. For a split second, the billionaire looked thoughtful. Melancholy, even. Though, in the next moment he grinned lopsidedly and said, "I think that's just a tad too far out of the realm of possibility to be discussed, don't you think?"

"I've read the gossip columns. It's not completely unrealistic." Steve remarked dryly. Stark's grin stretched across the rest of his face.

"You've been reading about me?" He asked, eyebrows waggling suggestively.

"I did my research." Steve corrected vehemently. If there was one thing Steve had learned about Tony Stark in the past few weeks, it was that he loved to push people's buttons. Stark was always attempting to irritate Banner and embarrass Steve. He quickly learned not to give him the satisfaction. "But if you had a kid," He pressed on, "would there be...protective measures in place?"

"You mean like Barton and Tasha's safe house?" Tony asked lazily, "Fat lot of good that did them."

"What would you do differently, then?"

"That kid would be under 24 hour surveillance. I'd create a panic button they could press if they feel threatened and it would immediately contact the police. It would also have a tracking device, just in case. The kid would grow to resent me, but," He shrugged, "I'd sleep better at night."

"A tracking device. So, I suppose that's...normal?" Steve wondered.

"Hardly." Tony snorted, then straightened, immediately alert. His eyes narrowed as he focused on Steve, "It's not normal unless the child is under a particular threat. Children of diplomats, ambassadors, and celebrities will often have such safety measures. You're trying to say that Hawkeye Jr. has a tracking device, aren't you?"

"That's what Clint's working on right now." Captain America admitted, "But there's something about the signal and scattering," He shrugged, "He can't track him accurately."

"He may just need to boost the signal." Tony muttered, lost in thought, "Where?"

"Computer room. Third floor." With that, Stark hurriedly left the room to help his fellow superhero.

Steve stepped into the elevator and pressed the "B" button. He waited patiently as the metal box descended the levels of Stark Tower until the doors opened, revealing the tower's basement tunnel.

At the end of the dank tunnel, Steve opened a heavy metal door to reveal Natasha standing in a dimly-lit room. A bearded and bloodied man sat tied to a chair in the center of the room.

"What is it?" Natasha asked when she heard the door open, not taking her eyes off the man in the chair.

"Fury sent me to check on you." Steve informed her.

"I don't need checking up on." Natasha snapped. Without blinking, she punched the bound man in the face, immediately following it with a heeled kick in the gut. He keeled over as much as he could, grunting and panting in pain.

This was the twentieth man she had "interrogated". After receiving Tony's list of potential assailants, she had tracked them down one by one and dragged them in. Dispensing of her usual mind tricks, she continued to beat the stuffing out of each and every subject until she was satisfied they didn't know anything.

Steve watched sadly as she pushed the man's chair over roughly. Although her face was impassive as always, he'd never seen the Black Widow move with such desperation.

"Did you need anything else?" She asked coldly. Captain America pursed his lips. It was no use pointing out that the culprit may not even be on the list. She knew this very well. But Natasha Romanoff could hardly sit around and wait. If anyone on the list was responsible, she would make sure he paid for it, even if that meant a few bodies and several hundred broken bones.

"No." He said at last. He closed the metal door behind him, the sound of agonized groans followed him all the way down the hallway to the elevator.

Tony was in bad shape the next morning. His eyes were wide and unblinking as he stared at the computer monitor in front of him. His hair was ruffled from where he had repeatedly run his fingers through it. There were massive bags under his eyes, revealing that he had stayed up the entire night before.

Bruce sat one mug of coffee in front of the philanthropist and another in front of Clint, who hadn't left Tony's side all night.

"How goes it?" The scientist asked cautiously.

"Whoever's scrambling the signal knows what they're doing." Tony informed him wearily, rubbing the bridge of his nose, "They've put up every defense system there is. The signal that pops up every couple of hours is them teasing us."

"When I find this guy…" Clint growled under his breath, clenching his fists.

"All in good time, my good man." Tony retorted absentmindedly. He continued solemnly, "When I try to boost the signal enough for us to see it, something blocks the way. It's like there's a giant monkey wrench in the system.

"I can see that." Bruce noted, looking at the screen over Tony's shoulder.

"We're not going to get anywhere with this." Stark pushed back from the computer, "We're going to have to find him the old-fashioned way."

"What way is that?" Banner wondered.

"Get Steve."

Steve, as it turned out, did not have many ideas on how to find Nathan the "old-fashioned" way. However, he was unable to sit back and wait for something to change while a 4-year-old was in danger.

Over the next week, Rodgers organized search parties across the country. Barton called in favors from around the world, sending feelers out to other countries in case the kidnapper had taken Nathan out of US jurisdiction. Unfortunately for the kidnapper, they would soon discover that they could not escape SHIELD jurisdiction.

Natasha was barely seen that week. She only left the interrogation room long enough to bring in the next suspect, she didn't even to take the time to wash the blood from her hands. According to her, this would just save time as weaker suspects would fold at immediately seeing that she was willing and able to make them hurt.

Stark and Banner worked endlessly on the computers and police scanners. They sent out alerts and monitored video surveillance.

Despite all of their efforts, no leads were found.

One day, Steve walked into the lab where Banner and Stark were working. Stark was on a computer, typing furiously. Banner was watching a black and white video that was suspended in the air in front of him. The globe that Barton had been intently observing the week before was floating over a work table.

"I don't suppose you have news." Tony said briskly as soon as Steve entered the room.

"No more than usual." He reported somberly.

"They haven't been caught on any surveillance camera. Anywhere." Banner said tiredly, "I've been running the videos against facial recognition. No matches." Several minutes passed in silence while the science bros worked.

"Um." Steve said suddenly.

"Hm?" Tony asked without looking up.

"I think you'll want to see this." Steve answered, voice tight. He pointed to the globe. Bruce took his eyes away from the screen momentarily and froze.

"It blips sometimes, it doesn't mean anything." Tony continued.

"Stark, you'll really want to look at this." It was Banner who spoke now. With no small amount of irritation, Tony turned around and looked at the red dot pulsating on the globe. He watched it for several seconds, expecting it to disappear immediately.

It didn't.

Stark jumped up and rushed to the globe, typing something on the workbench. The dot remained in place.

"Jarvis." He barked, "Copy coordinates."

"Done." Jarvis replied, cool as ever, "Sending them to director Fury now."

"When you've done that, page Barton and Romanoff." Tony instructed through numb lips, "Tell them to suit up."

ROUTE 66, ARIZONA

Natasha dangled from a SHIELD helicopter. She hung upside down, her knees hooked on the rung of the rope ladder, her hair whipping around her as she sped through the sky at 90 miles per hour. Beneath her was an unmarked semi, travelling well over the speed limit and seemingly unbothered by the helicopter that was now above it.

The helicopter moved lower and lower until Natasha was only twelve feet away from the truck's roof. She secured the circular magnets that were strapped to her hands and flipped off the ladder. She spun through the air, landing near the end of the trailer. Her body was yanked backward by the truck's momentum, but she slapped her magnet-clad hands down on the roof. For a moment, her arms felt like they were going to be pulled out of their sockets. She dragged her body forward and tore one hand from the roof, reaching forward and slapping it on the roof again. She crawled this way for several minutes until she reached the cab of the truck.

Using her heel, she shattered the passenger's side window before swinging into the cab. The truck swerved as Natasha quickly and efficiently slammed the driver's head into the steering wheel, knocking him unconscious. The driver's foot slipped off the gas and the truck gradually slowed to a stop.

Before the truck stopped moving, Natasha had jumped out and rushed to the back of the trailer, where several SHIELD vehicles were pulling up. Clint was already there with a pair of bolt clippers in hand. He snipped the chain off the door easily and swung it open. Several SHIELD agents entered the trailer with weapons drawn, only to find it completely empty.

"But," Clint looked down at the hand-held tracker Stark had given him, "The tracking device is here."

Natasha, looking as though her was were etched in stone, leaned down and pulled a small blinking light out of the tailpipe. Clint examined it, recognizing it as the chip that was supposed to be attached to his son.

He dropped it as though it were on fire.

Tasha stared at the empty trailer, an intense feeling of dread washing over her. She was horrified at the mysterious man behind her son's kidnapping. The kidnapper had been two steps ahead of them the entire time and was simply taunting them, watching them dance, like some grotesque puppet master. The tracking device was their last hope. They had no more ideas or possibilities.

They were out of leads.

WAREHOUSE, LOCATION UNKNOWN

Barney Barton sat silently in a metal folding chair. His hands were folded in front of him as he gazed at the floor thoughtfully.

At his feet was a small sleeping bag, in which his 4-year-old nephew slept. Nathan slept soundly, his bravery continuously astounding his uncle.

Several years ago, when Barney was killed in battle, he told his brother he had nursed himself back to health. This, however, was not exactly true.

On the brink of death, the FBI agent was discovered by Egg Head, an old rival of Hawkeye and SHIELD's. The villain revived Barney for his own nefarious purposes. Barney won the trust of his brother, as well as his brother's only son. Although Egg Head had been apprehended by SHIELD two years ago, his influence was still present in Barney's mind.

Barney blinked, wanting badly to break the hold Egg Head's mind control had him. When he blinked again, darkness filled him a little more. He remembered how much he had hated his little brother. He remember how Clint had betrayed him, injured him, and left him.

He blinked again and shook his head desperately, not wanting to lose his conscience.

He blinked again. The darkness spread.

When Egg Head saved Barney's life, he inserted a microscopic chip in the man's brain. It would not show on any brain scans and was impossible to remove. At least, impossible to remove without killing him. A few weeks ago, Barney felt the chip activate. The tiny mechanism stimulated the parts of his brain that felt anger and hatred, all the while numbing the parts that felt love and loyalty.

That was the best he could figure, anyway.

Barney tried not to blink, he feared even the momentary darkness that laid behind his eyelids.

Just give up, part of him thought, it's not worth it. After all… Barney blinked again, and his eyes stayed closed for several long moments, Clint's the one who made you like this. He's the one who ruined your life.

Slowly, Barney opened his eyes. In the darkness of the warehouse, he grinned, eyes like steel.

Good Barney was gone.

Now, the real game could begin.

Finally had enough free time to write this chapter! In case you're wondering, I finished rewriting the outline a while ago.

So this story is back on track! There will be three more chapters (well, two more chapters and an epilogue) which I'm SO EXCITED to write.

What did ya think?

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