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"Nick!"
"Nick!"
Coulson pounded on the door in a decrepit run down part of Los Angeles.
"Nick!"
It had been almost 36 hours since Phil watched as the team he had fought so had to establish, the team he had scarified his very identity for, had imploded at an airport in Germany. And the world had watched on in horror, News outlets had a field day.
Phil had gathered the leaders of New Shield together. In a small dimly-lit command centre they had agreed: this catastrophe was too large for them to sit out from the background; it was time for New Shield to reveal itself and take some control of the situation.
It would be Phil's unhappy duty to advise the old pirate of what would happen.
There was nothing Fury could do to stop it - they must forge ahead in the wake of this disaster. They would do what they could to reassure and comfort the public....Could Shield comfort the public? - Well, they would do what they could to protect and keep the public safe. They would offer their services as a high-powdered detention centre for those individuals who must surely now be going to trial for manslaughter, resisting arrest, and destruction of property on a never-before-seen scale.
They must do this. It would never do to house the Avengers - bastions of goodness and hope - with rapists and murderers. And because those 'maximum' security prisons would never hold members of such an elite team. They must help.
Phil renewed his assault on the door. "FURY!!"
And the door opened inwards.
Phil's mentor stooped before him. He appeared to have aged decades in the weeks since they had last met. He gestured inwards with a defeated gesture.
Phil walked into the room.
Immediately his eyes fell on one of the screens lining one wall of the room.
His blood boiled and hissed. Shaking slightly, (Rage?) he stood along-side Fury to watch a video released several hours prior on YouTube.
His throat caught, disappointment, anger, betrayal, shame. At least two of those terrorists would soon be in Shields custody for attempted murder (Pray-God let it only be attempted). Zemo was a clever bastard.
They watched as Ironman (Stark? Tony? - Pepper, his friend Pepper, had always called him Tony) fell and did not get up again, blows raining down from above.
Phil had this distinct impression that Fury had had this video on a loop since it was released. He could see the same anger and shame in the old man’s eyes as he knew filled his.
And he knew, looking at Fury, that the pirate knew exactly why he had come. Both reasons.
To the pirate's credit he scarcely flinched when the punch, as hard as Phil could make it, landed.
Rather he spat out the blood and spoke:
"Dreams ended.
I assume Melinda is with the president right now offering Shield's advanced services to house the fugitives.”
Phil shock off his hand. "Yes. There's no take-backs this time Nick."
"Yeah, I know." He sighed. "Howard always said he was a good man."
Phil pointed looked at the next screen, also released to YouTube, this one showing the Winter Solider, in all his stoic glory, on a lonely road raising a gun towards the camera - the car crash behind.
"Think he'd still say that?"
"Nah." He paused. "Howard was a vindictive bastard." He paused again. "His son still might."
Phil's punching fist started tingling, but he followed Fury's eyes to another screen. He had never seen this footage before. When he walked in it had shown a snowy landscape. Now it was cement corridor. Wherever it was it was clearly cold, as the breath of the man to whom it was attached rhythmically partly obscured the film. In shaky-cam (running?) the film traversed the long corridor. Phil was fairly sure what was coming next, and he mumbled a prayer "Let them find him alive". Nick hummed agreement.
Phil realised that his was why Nick had taken so long to open this door when the other man raised an earpiece to his ear as they focused.
Through the next door.... this room was exposed to the elements. Snow whirled. Beautiful dancing fairies, partly obscuring the frozen hunk of metal. On the screen men ran towards the suit. It was empty.
The camera whipped around, followed a trail of red (all but obscured by the falling snow) through the base. Eventually they saw a shape, cowering under not nearly enough blankets.
Tony was unmoving, face contorted with pain, clearly wounded.
Neither Phil nor Fury breathed as the team approached. Suddenly Fury released his breath, tension draining somewhat. "He's alive."
"Oh God Phil, he's alive!"
And the pirate grabbed him and clung.
It was more emotion than Phil had ever seen from Nick before. Eyes still on the screen he watched as the extraction team loaded Tony onto a stretcher; doctors running alongside. In his mind he remembered Fury's desk, back when he'd first been recruited. Before the Avengers, before Fury was director, before he'd become a top spy, hardly more than a boy. A picture - a weapon's lab; young (so young) Fury and old Stark, grinning at the camera. And there, at the bottom of the picture, clinging by chubby arms to Nick's legs, a toddler. Being raised to take over Stark Industries and step into Howard's shoes before he could even stand unaided.
Phil had never thought about that picture before; he had completely forgotten it. Hadn't seen it since before he even really knew who Howard Start was. Certainly years and years before he had ever met Tony.
He looked at the old man again. Tears were streaming down his face.
Phil's punching fist settled, anger towards this man leaving him. Sorrow took its place.
As he watched the old man took a deep breath and pulled himself together. Emotion gone, a fierce desire fuelling him once more. In that moment Phil felt sorry for his old charges. They had no idea what was coming for them.
Turning his back he quickly pulled out a phone and sent a text to Pepper. No time for more than that now. No recriminations at his supposed death; no joy, no sorrow - simply a reassurance that Tony was currently alive and a promise to send hospital details as soon as possible and assurances he would help in any way possible.
That done he turned.
Fury was now standing in front of the two screens at the far end of the room. Walking towards them Phil started. It showed what appeared to be a maximum security (hulk strength) cell block. Clint was pacing back and forth in one cell; separately from him Phil could identify the Witch, Falcon, and another man.... Scott Lang he thought.
"Agh Clint". He sighed.
Fury glanced at him and raised an eyebrow:
"He was out." Said Phil. "Had no reason to be there, should be with his family. Fool."
There was no emotion on Fury's face... but Phil could tell he agreed.
It wasn't a Shield facility.
"Where are they?"
"Ross. An off the books facility in the middle of the fucking Atlantic."
"Bloody Hell."
"Tony was going to use it to crucify him once the initial upheaval of the accords was over."
"Really?..." The question hung in the air.
"For fucks sake Phil. We're spies. Of course I know what Tony was planning. The man’s walking book for anyone who cares to read him."
"Manipulate him you mean". Phil snapped.
"Sore about Natasha?"
"I wasn't before."
"What changed?"
"Me. You. Shield. The Avengers.... the Accords... This." Phil gestured to the screens owing the Hydra base.... somehow his gesture encompassed another screen showing a hospital room, War Machine's pilot lying prone. "Mostly you and me I think." Phil though back to that photo. "You knew him as a child."
"I loved him."
"You manipulated him."
"We ALL manipulated him."
"He is a good man."
"I know."
Phil sighed at the screen.
"Tell me why?"
"We needed the Avengers."
"Really?"
"Alien's Phil. We needed more than what we had. Stark may be a good man but no one can say he's a team player. Impetuous. Doesn't trust anyone but himself. Thinks he's always right about everything...."
"To be fair to Tony... he usually is."
"I know."
"We had to manipulate him.... otherwise he would never have played."
"Money? Fury - is that what this is about?"
"Money... Yes. And Ironman. Money and Ironman... and Tony Stark himself. You think that sort of genius is easily available for hire."
"Nick..." Phil stopped himself. They were talking in circles. Whatever Fury has felt for that chubby toddler he had buried it beneath his desire to have Stark in his superhero band. "I think he trusted Captain America."
Fury looked at him... "He never will again."
The two men looked back at the Atlantic Facility.
The Witch was shaking. She appeared to be receiving electric shocks within her straight jacket.
"We can't leave them there." Phil said.
"We must for now."
"For God's sake Nick... it's Ross. He's probably experimenting on them".
"Look again Phil.... who isn't there."
"Steve, and the Winter Solider." Coulson responded. "You think Steve is going to come for them."
Fury sighed. "Of course he will. Roger's thinks being a caring team-mate and friend makes you a good man. He'll come for them. Ross will capture them."
"We cannot let Ross get his hands on the super solider serum."
"And how do you propose we stop him?"
"Firstly by not letting him capture the only two known men with the serum. Sir."
Fury sighed. "Barnes' and Roger's are fugitives. Wherever they go, whatever they do, there is a good likelihood that they will be caught. And when they are caught, right now, Ross will get them. He has proof that he can contain super powered people right there. The world will be grateful to him for disappearing them.
Until Tony is back on his feet we have no way to bring Ross down. Even if Tony was fine, his whole plan hinged on getting the Avengers alongside - not having them go rogue. Right now, Ross is too powerful for us to bring down because people are too scared. Those Avengers" (he gestured to the screen) "have proven they cannot be trusted, not by the public, not even by their own team mates. They have proven they are too powerful, with very little care for collateral damage. The Avengers who can be trusted.... one is paralysed, one grievously injured, one is an unknown machine, one is an unknown spider. And the panther has turned on the Black Widow. No Phil, the public will never support anyone complaining that Ross is managing to keep super-powered villains in check."
Phil shuddered. Fury was right.
"So we let Ross capture Barnes and Rogers. What then Sir?"
"Then Phil, you have a shield team ready to take control of the raft....we remove the prisoners. Ross can't go public, his little facility will then be proven to not be able to contain the Avengers, and he loses public confidence if he goes public. We transfer them to a shield facility. And those mother-fuckers never see the outside again!"