July 2016- Europe-
The sun rose early over the city, bathing those setting up their market stall in a hazy half-light. They could already tell it was going to be boiling that day, and that was what they discussed, having no idea what was in stall for them. To all intents and purposes it was just a normal market day, the bustling crowd appeared about ten, focused solely on getting the best produce for the cheapest price in the crowded, cramped spaces between the many stalls. The square was filled by midday as the market only occurred once a month and was known as one of the best in the county. It also helped that it was located in a main square in the same quarter as the city's mayoral buildings, but not too close to them, meaning that although some of the shoppers were involved with the city's governance, most weren't, they were just after good deals.
A woman was walking through the market, down the main thoroughfare, and, despite the miniscule space available to them, people subconsciously moved to allow her passage. Something about her intimidated them, something they could not put their fingers on, something wasn't right. Any of the bystanders who overcame that feeling, even slightly, or were not too involved with arguing with one of the sellers over the fact that that avocado was completely overpriced, would have noticed that there was no obvious reason for their fear, but would have found themselves still unable to dismiss it completely. There was nothing overtly sinister about the woman. She was, in fact, quite pretty, of medium height and muscular built, as if she worked out a lot, or was some sort of personal trainer, with dark hair, pale, clear skin and beautiful grey eyes with plain lashes. She wore little make up and no jewellery and her clothes were completely nondescript, as if she was trying, rather unsuccessfully as it happened, to blend in with the crowd; black jeans, dark trainers, plain black t-shit and a black leather jacket, zipped nearly fully up despite the heat. On her back was a rucksack, bulging, although it was impossible to see what it contained and most observers would just have assumed that she had had a highly successful shopping trip, especially considering where she was. However, the more dedicated observer, or incredibly bored shopper, of which there were a number, may have looked closer at her eyes, and noticed that they were the source of that almost uncanny valley feeling. They looked odd, emotionless, dead almost, blank, and in complete contrast to the purposefulness she turned her head to check her surroundings, and continued to walk to an apparently highly important destination, a path still being cleared for her. Perhaps, at that point, they would have realised the reason for their uneasiness and backed away from the woman whom they now believed capable of anything, and maybe, just maybe, if they moved fast enough, escaped. Not many people looked at her, though, not really, to them she was just another twenty-something on a health drive.
To be honest, no one really noticed her, they were all too busy, too absorbed. Even when she approached the bin next to a super-smoothie stand ('Green means clean!') dropped her bag and walked swiftly away, to the corner of the square. People continued, for the next five minutes at least, to buy smoothies and discuss if the red ones, which contained some unidentifiable fruit, were a rip off or not, if they actually worked. They did not notice the abandoned bag, despite the government warnings about safety plastered across streetlights and walls.
The woman stopped just at the point where one of the city's smaller, highly exclusive, residential streets leading off the square, and took out a phone. She gently tapped the screen a couple of times, pocketed it, turned and ran, heading for a black sedan parked about ten spaces down, the door of which was already open. Less than a minute later the car, and the woman, were gone.
Back in the market, the friendly, familiar background noise of hundreds of conversations and good-natured attempts at bargaining continued. That is, until a massive fireball engulfed the square, blowing away the stalls, shattering the windows of the neighbouring buildings and wiping out over three hundred lived at a stroke. For a moment after, just a moment, there was complete silence. Then the screaming started.
Avengers' Compound- 10 minutes later-
'… with over three hundred confirmed fatalities, possibly a thousand seriously injured and countless more with minor injuries, the local hospitals are overwhelmed. And the cause of the explosion is still unclear. We will keep you updated as we hear more. This is a live report by Anita Reyner on the developing situation following the explosion in Victory Square just over ten minutes ago…' The news anchor's would-be-calm voice emerged from five separate screens around the building. A few second later, the compound's three at least semi-permanent resident had entered the main room, matching looks of concern on their faces.
'Why would Fury bother to notify us about this? It seems like a clear-cut international terrorism incident, not our area.'
'He said that he suspected it could be related to the remains of HYDRA.' Vision replied to Rhodey's question, after a moment's thought. He was looking mildly uncomfortable in a dark wool jumper and suit trousers, sitting on the sofa next to the main speaker, watching Tony Stark begin to pace. 'If it is HYDRA, may I suggest perhaps …' Vision stopped, eyes still fixed on Tony, leaving the rest of the sentence unspoken, but still weighing heavily in the air.
'You may not.' Stark snapped. 'They're been off the grid for over two months now. We don't know where they are, what they've been doing, and even if we did they are fugitives. If we are needed, which I doubt, we'll deal with this ourselves.'
Vision and Rhodey exchanged a look. 'You do realise that 'ourselves' is you, a teen whose been bitten by a spider and probably can't come due to homework, and Vision, right? I can't walk, let alone fly. You three against HYDRA. That's a terrible plan. Look, Stank, I know you don't want to but, realistically, you need them. The only way to get rid of the remnants of HYDRA once and for all is through, at least temporary, co-operation with the others.'
'No.'
A Compound, The Mountains, Wakanda- 30 minutes later-
Beep, buzz, beep, buzz, beep, buzz. The phone vibrated itself across the glass table. Beep, buzz. It's owner, a handsome, blond, heavily muscled man, did not seem to have really registered its incessant ringing. He was too busy looking, rather absently, out over the emerald, mist-blanketed jungle through the room's window, past the huge panther statue, into the distance. Beep, buzz, beep, buzz.
'Cap, for God's sake, can you please answer that? It's driving me crazy and that ringtone is shit.'
'Language.' Steven Grant Rogers, formerly Captain America, replied automatically. Sam pulled a bit of paper out of the notepad he had been writing in, scrunched it up into a ball, and, with a look of concentration on his face, lobbed it at his friend's head, who, once hit, finally turned his attention to the loudly ringing phone.
'Who'd be calling you now anyway? Except Carter, all our friends are here, and that doesn't look like her number.'
'It isn't.' After looking more closely at the displayed contact details, Steve elaborated, 'Stark,' and, with a look of complete astonishment, picked up. 'It's only been a month.'
'Wait a minute. After everything that happened, you gave Stark your contact details. Stark. Seriously, do you have some kind of death wish? I mean, really? …' Steve raised his hand, mouthing shush.
Sam watched Steve speak for a bit, not really listening to what was being said, instead gazing with concern at the worry lines developing on his friend's face as the conversation continued, remembering Nat's comment and agreeing with her assessment that sometimes Steve really resembled a kicked puppy, especially when worried. As the conversation continued, with mostly listening, punctuated by the occasional 'yeah' and 'right' Sam's eyes were drawn out of the window, as Steve's had been minutes before but, unlike Steve, he was actually looking at the scenery. Wakanda really was, in Sam's opinion, one of the most beautiful countries on Earth. He didn't mind living there at all, even though, if he was completely honest, it was one of only a few options open to them as international criminals, and he didn't really fancy the other option, a penitentiary. In addition to this, it had the advantage of being the country harbouring the now-frozen Barnes, who Steve, fairly, Sam thought, after the events of two months ago, didn't want to be too far away from.
He found himself admiring the multicoloured, tropical birds flying between the trees, and considering improvements to the FALCON gear, which would mostly involve making it more efficient and hopefully more Spiderman proof. Perhaps I should speak to the Wakandan engineers … he thought. Wakanda was, after all, one of the world's foremost countries in terms of conservation and technological advancements. It also had the major advantage of not having signed, well, ratified, the Sokovia Accords, meaning that the scientists there were still willing to actually work with him.
Their new home, in Sam's opinion at any rate, was also far better than the Avengers' Compound, although he still missed it at times. The building which now housed the larger portion of the group which had once been called the Avengers, was a sleek, glass construction, with white panelled walls made of some entirely eco-friendly material (Sam had gotten a little lost when the kid … Shuri … had tried to explain the design to him). Despite its modern design, and the building having every convenience imaginable, and some unimaginable ones too for good measure, it seemed to be in perfect harmony with the surrounding mountainous jungles, a fact which was lost on Steve at the current time, as he continued to pace, staring into space as he listened to Stark, but not on Sam, even though he had to admit that he was more of a city person at heart. For the first time since joining Cap, after that, as it turned out, rather fateful run two years ago, he had finally had a few weeks of blissful peace and quiet, along with Nat, who seemed torn between enjoying the peace and becoming bored, Clint and family, Scott and Wanda, who were all living in the building with Steve and Sam, and occasional visits from T'Challa, with whom they seemed to be on the route to becoming good friends. It as though the peace had been too good to last, however, as it usually was.
Finally, after some half an hour, Cap finally placed the phone back on the table. The worry lines, however, remained.
'That was Stark.' He said, again.
'You said.'
'We need to call the whole group together, and T'Challa, I think he's visiting. There seems to be a situation developing back home … involving the remains of HYDRA.'
'Great.'
One Hour Later, Compound, Mountains, Wakanda-
'The explosion is old news, Steve. Fury called about half an hour ago. The up to date news is much worse. You all ready to get back into business? As we're definitely going to be needed.' Following Steve's very brief briefing, and five minutes' awkward silence in which they had all tried to process what had happened, unsuccessfully, Nat had finally decided to speak, knowing she'd have to mention Fury's call sooner or later and being unable to handle the discomfort in the room any more.
'We need Stark, Vision, and Rhodey here. It's serious, as per usual. Looks like the Avengers may have to, if possible, get back together, at least temporarily.'
'They're on Stark's jet. Could someone set up a video call?' Steve looked around hopefully.
A grin spread across Sam's face, which he quickly tried to conceal with his hand; Cap still struggled sometimes with some of the more basic modern technologies and, although he totally understood why, it still made him smile, to Steve's usually acute embarrassment. T'Challa, however, quickly complied, followed by the superheroes' five pairs of eyes, as they sat spread around the compound's modernistic, ultra-minimalist conference room. Apparently bored, Nat pulled out her phone and started typing, well, Sam presumed she was, as she didn't seem the sort to play games.
A minute later Stark's, admittedly not particularly happy, face appeared on the plain wall, which, it turned out on closer inspection, was actually a massive screen. Nat swiftly pocketed her phone, and began to speak again.
'Thanks for the initial briefing, Steve. The rest of you already know roughly what's happened.' She looked at Stark, who nodded, all of them ignoring the large elephant in the room which Sam knew would have to be dealt with soon, if this was every going to work. 'Anyway, Fury called me about half an hour ago. In brief, it looks like this wasn't a regular incident. It seems as though the attack was carried out by a young woman, who escaped in an unmarked black sedan, and who seems to have no identity, although I'll come back to that later. Local security forced haven't been able to find any security camera footage of her, as most of the cameras were destroyed. Eyewitness reports have been sketchy at best, they're all understandably pretty shaken up, and so the statements have varied quite drastically. The only things there seem to be a broad agreement on are that she was dark haired, pretty but over all quite nondescript. Most have said she appeared to be completely normal. However, one couple mentioned that she didn't look right. When pressed they said that this was, potentially, because she looked sort of, in their words, emotionless, with this dead look in her eyes, which freaked them out a bit. The explosives that were used are not very rare, could really have been made my any group with access to the internet, and were in her backpack, which she dropped in the market before detonating it at a safe distance. She then went, and has apparently remained, off the grid, which indicates training, especially as half the world has been after her. The odd thing is that there were no high-profile casualties, despite the incident occurring in the mayoral quarter, and no groups have claimed the attack and there are no really obvious motives for attacking the market. It's not a very high profile site.
As I said, the other odd thing is the woman herself. We have absolutely no idea who she is. Literally none. She appears on no-one's radar and, although admittedly we don't have much to go on, has no documents or previous photographs from other incidents linked to her. She also doesn't seem to be anyone's citizen, and therefore apparently has no identity. She's also, also as I said before, gone. There have been a total of no sightings since the incident.
Don't ask me how Fury got my new number, but apparently he has seen the footage and had it analysed. Due to the fact that quite a lot of things seem to be odd about this case, he's worried that the woman could be some kind of HYDRA enhanced or operative, or at least working for the organisation's remnants. He wants us to come back into the game, temporarily, to see how it goes, and is offering possible immunity and a waiver for the Sokovia Accords. He's pretty worried and will brief us fully as he finds out more if we decide to take this on. If we do, we would be working separately from the government, well, those of us who didn't sign, and without any interference.
There's also one more thing.' At which Nat looked from Steve to Tony and back again. 'I know he may not want this, Steve, but it has been suggested that Barnes should be brought out of cryo. We need to know more about what remains of HYDRA, and he's the best lead we have. He also, if this woman is working for HYDRA, might be able to provide a positive identification. At the very least, he could tell us she isn't working for them, meaning that we'd know to look into other organisations.
So, what do you think?'
There was an awful silence, as everyone digested the news, and people like Steve and Vision, who had actually been taking notes, albeit in different ways, one on paper, one on phone, read through them.
'Barnes has been there this entire time.' Tony was the first to speak, his face pale and furious. 'Sleeping when he should have been-'
'Tony, right now this isn't helping-' Rhodey tried.
'There is no way that man is being woken up. Not after everything he's done.'
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