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Sharon Carter pulled another file from the top of the slowly dwindling pile on top of her desk. Why the CIA hadn’t gone completely paperless by now was beyond her, so here she sat, drowning in paperwork. Cold cases, mostly, that needed one last set of eyes before they were sent to secure storage. It was a menial task normally assigned to new CIA recruits, which technically she was, but her field experience with SHIELD far outweighed that of most of the agents in her section. She huffed at a lock of blonde hair that fell over her eyes and opened the closest folder.
It had been a rough transition, to be honest. SHIELD had been home for her, and now she felt rootless and aimless with no sense of belonging. Women at her level in the CIA were few and far between, and the ones she had met seemed uninterested in being friends. She’d gone to lunch with a tall redhead named Chloe, who kept steering the conversation toward glass ceilings and unfair wages and lack of opportunity for advancement in their section, none of which made for a pleasant lunch hour. After that, she chose to eat at her desk with a sandwich and a podcast.
“Carter.” Donnelly, a short man with an expanding beer gut and a receding hairline materialized next to her desk like a bloated apparition. “This came for you,” he said, dropping a sealed brown folder on the desk in front of her.
“What is it? Another cold case?”
“I have no idea,” Donnelly snapped, thumping the file folder. “Read it. I’m assuming your eyes are good for something other than being blue.”
Sharon bit back a sharp retort. She violently clicked and unclicked her ballpoint pen, briefly entertaining a fantasy involving it and the fleshy underside of his neck. As much as she’d love to tell him where to go and exactly how to get there, she couldn’t afford to lose her job. The other agents already viewed her as a potential security risk due to the SHIELD collapse and the Hydra infiltration of their agency, and agents like Donnelly were quick to remind her just how lucky she was to be there. “Yes, sir,” she ground out.
Setting aside the cold case, she opened the brown folder and pulled out a stack of papers. A small note with nothing but a phone number had been clipped to the top of the second page. Her eyes grew wide and she read it twice just to make certain she wasn’t losing her mind. Both the number and the handwriting belonged to former SHIELD Assistant Director Maria Hill. Carefully, she pocketed the note and shoved the contents of the file back into the brown folder.
“Going on break,” she said with a smile as she passed the secretary seated by the front door.
Once she was outside, she found a quiet spot the next block over and sat down on the edge of a concrete planter. Her heart pounded in her chest. What was going on? Why had Maria called her? She was out of the game, firmly entrenched in the CIA. Okay, maybe not firmly entrenched, but she had a desk and a parking spot. That counted for something. Curiosity got the best of her, and she punched the numbers into her cell phone.
“This is Maria,” said a familiar voice on the other end of the line.
“It’s Sharon. I got your message.”
“I wasn’t sure you’d call, but I’m glad you did.” Maria sounded cordial and a maybe a little bit surprised. “I have a proposition for you. Meet me for lunch at 1pm at Chuck’s BBQ near the beltway. We can talk there.”
Sharon knew the place. A dive BBQ joint with Memphis style sauce and dark corner booths. More than one Washington deal had been finalized at the tables in the back. “Okay. See you then.” She hung up and stared at her phone. What had she just gotten herself into?
~*~
At 1pm sharp, Sharon sat in a booth across from Maria sipping a glass of iced tea with the folder on the seat next to her. An awkward silence hung between them. They had been friends – best friends - at one time, but the collapse of SHIELD strained their relationship, and Sharon had no clue where to begin. She fidgeted with the straw in her tea. “It’s been a while,” she offered. “You look like you’re doing well.” Which she did. It was strange seeing Maria in a crisp khaki suit instead of the standard SHIELD navy uniform, but the color contrasted nicely with her dark hair.
“I am.” Maria’s smile looked tense. “Working for Stark Industries can be challenging, but at least it’s never boring.”
“And SHIELD?” That was the real question. Sharon raised an eyebrow and wondered if she’d get a straight answer.
“A shadow of its former self. Splinter groups here and there. Fury’s working to pull everyone together, but it’s hard. Everyone’s doing their own thing, and Hydra’s a hell of a lot more organized than we are. More resources, more agents, more everything,” Maria admitted. “But SHIELD’s not dead yet.”
“You could have called me sooner. You know I would have come back.”
Maria averted her eyes. “Yeah, and that’s why I didn’t. Things are still too volatile, too risky, prone to coming unraveled.”
“Come on, Maria. Do look like I’m fragile?” Sharon’s jaw clenched.
“Fragility has nothing to do with it, and you know it. It’s your compulsion to run off all reckless and half-cocked like you’re actively looking for a way to kill yourself.” Maria sighed. “Can we not have this argument here?”
Sharon pursed her lips and put the file on the table between them. “So, wanna fill me in?” She’d read the file. Nothing about it screamed SHIELD, though. Unusual findings in a drug trial for a new pain reliever on human subjects by a US pharmaceutical company with ties to both Russia and Germany, but nothing illegal. The foreign angle made it CIA territory, but only by the narrowest of margins. According to the paperwork, the company deftly maneuvered through the federal requirements for conducting human trials, likely with some behind-the-scenes help to grease the wheels. That in and of itself wasn’t technically illegal, either. The initial results indicated the drug held some promise. Why SHIELD would be interested in a drug trial was curious.
Maria folded her hands in front of her. “We believe the drug trial for the pain reliever is tied to another study, especially since the method of delivery targets pain receptors in the brain that are linked to specific areas of the body. Imagine having a sprained right ankle and taking a pill that only blocked pain receptors for your right foot. Add to that a study by the same company around human tissue growth and regeneration with results that far exceed anything we’ve seen since…well, since Steve Rogers and The Winter Soldier...and I think you get where I’m going.”
Sharon inhaled sharply. “Supersoldiers?”
“We think so, yes. An entire army of them. Imagine a battalion full of Winter Soldiers just waiting to be activated. The pain reliever’s targeted delivery method and brain chemistry reactions could be the key that triggers them.”
“Why me? You just called me a hot mess and now you want my help.”
Maria locked eyes with her. “Even when you’re being an unpredictable pain in my ass, I know I can trust you, and trust is a precious commodity these days.” She leaned forward and tapped the folder with her forefinger. “It’s a straight reconnaissance mission. The folder is your ticket out of the office and into the field, but once the investigation starts, you’ll be undercover.”
Sharon’s pulse quickened. Real field work, not pushing papers around on her desk or answering nut calls or reviewing cold cases. Real, actual field work. She jumped at the chance. “How soon do I start?”
Maria reached into her tote bag and pulled out a slim packet. “You just did.”
~*~
The Bethesda Marriott looked like someone had thrown a rock at a hornets nest. The lobby swarmed with conventioneers wearing name tags and carrying identical tote bags. Sharon stood in the middle of the crowd and tried to get her bearings. According to her name tag, she was Madison Collier from Atlanta, recent pharmacy graduate from Auburn University and new sales rep with Celantia Pharmaceuticals. The American Medical Association’s annual research symposium turned out to be more than just physicians and scientists. A healthy array of secondary suppliers like drug reps, publishers and medical supply companies had descended on Atlanta to booze and schmooze and flirt their way into some sales. Sharon purposely avoided the vendors and exhibits. If anyone asked her the science behind the drugs she supposedly sold, she’d be lost.
She unlocked her phone and tapped on the conference app she’d downloaded as part of her registration. The session she needed to attend on the breakthrough pain reliever was just off the grand ballroom on the second floor. She swiped her nametag at a station next to the doorway and picked up a packet of handouts. Most of the questions about the science behind the drug, the timeline of the study and the potential benefits once the FDA finalized the approval process would be answered in the handouts, but Sharon needed to know more about the primary investigator and study director, Dr. Harold Lynch, whoever he was. She found a seat on the aisle near the back of the room and settled in for a long hour of science.
A tall man with gray hair and bushy eyebrows came to the podium to run through the housekeeping rules - NO cell phones! – and to introduce the speaker. Sharon flipped to the first page of the PowerPoint handout and looked up to see a petite brunette with long dark hair and rectangular glasses scurry in and claim a seat in the back row.
Sharon’s eyebrows shot up. Jane Foster? Here? The Jane Foster, the astrophysicist with ties to SHIELD, Thor and the Avengers? She quickly sized up the room. Most of the audience looked like garden variety science nerds, and nobody in particular seemed out of place, but strongly suspected there were Hydra agents in the room who’d done a fabulous job of blending in. SHIELD had taught her that lesson well; be prepared for anything.
If there was one thing Sharon remembered about SHIELD it was to expect the unexpected. You might think you’re walking into a basic hostage situation, when in reality the captors are six foot tall arachnids with maws the size of trash cans, demanding safe passage back to Centaurus A via the worm hole that Tony Stark accidentally opened over the course of a beer-soaked weekend. Yeah, that had been loads of fun. She stared at her lap while she sized up her options. Leaving was out of the question. She didn’t know what sort of role Jane had in this mess, but she couldn’t just ignore her. Could she sneak a text to Maria? Probably not without incurring the wrath of Mr. Gray and Bushy. Once the presentation was over, she’d approach Jane. Until then, she’d just sit tight.
Much to Sharon’s surprise, she found the presentation interesting, enlightening even. Though some of the terms flew over her head, the speaker presented both the study design and the findings in simple, straightforward language. The ninety minutes flew by.
After a brief question and answer session, Dr. Lynch dismissed the audience. Everyone stood at once, clogging the aisles and shuffling toward the door. Sharon elbowed her way to the back and grabbed Jane by the arm, swinging her around.
“Dr. Jane Foster? I’m Madison Collier,” Sharon quickly said, thrusting out her hand to shake. “I’m a huge fan of your work on electromagnetic emissions.”
Jane’s eyes grew wide and she dropped her eyes to Sharon’s nametag before everything clicked into place. “Right, yes,” she stammered. “Madison? It’s nice to meet you.”
“I didn’t expect to see an astrophysicist at a medical conference.” Sharon gave her a pointed look.
“Some of my most recent findings might have application in the medical field.” She stared at a spot just over Sharon’s left shoulder as she chose her words carefully. “Theoretically, my work on ferrofluids and magnetohydrodynamics could be useful.”
“Theoretically,” echoed Sharon, her mind spinning in a thousand different directions. She chanced a glance behind her, and sure enough, a large man in an ill-fitting sports jacket remained seated, eyes trained on his cell phone. They needed to go somewhere else. Anywhere else. “Listen, I have a room upstairs. Let’s go up and have a chat about ferrofluids,” she said quietly.
Ten minutes later Sharon sat sprawled on her bed with her shoes kicked off and watched Jane pace nervously in front of the window.
“It’s bullshit,” Jane fumed as she turned on her heels and stalked back the other direction. “They shut down the study before I had finished. I was on the cusp of a real breakthrough!”
Sharon’s eyes followed her as she turned and stomped back to the other side of the room. “What exactly are we talking about? Cosmic emissions as a pain reliever?” That sounded dubious even to Sharon’s unscientific ears.
“No. The pain reliever is a different study. Ours focused on the interaction between magnetic fluid particles in the bloodstream and the external magnetic field.” Jane stopped and looked Sharon dead in the eyes. “Specifically, binding medicine to magnetic particles, ensuring precise delivery to targeted areas of the body, especially using permanently placed external magnets. That sort of thing.”
“Christ,” breathed Sharon. “It all fits together.”
“Yes, but our study wasn’t complete. The funding was pulled suddenly, the lab was shut down and most of my findings were confiscated. All I have are the parts of it that I happened to photograph on my I-Pad.”
“Jane, that’s huge.”
“I know!” she cried, throwing her hands in the air. “All my work, gone! And I can’t even blame SHIELD this time!”
“That doesn’t explain why you’re here.” Sharon leaned back on her hands and crossed her bare feet at the ankles. “Are the two studies linked at all?”
“Possibly. They’re both about delivery methods to targeted parts of the body, though through different approaches. Dr. Lynch was my co-principal investigator. He’s the one who secured the grant funding. He’s the one who shut down the study with no warning whatsoever and is now here presenting. I’m not letting it go without a fight.” Anger flashed behind her brown eyes but flared out just as quickly. “I just don’t know how to fight him. I’ve confronted him twice and even threatened a lawsuit, but I can’t afford a legal battle. I’m not sure what else I can do,” she confessed.
Magnetic particles in the bloodstream. Supersoldiers. A pain reliever that could do more than just block general pain receptors. All pieces of the same horrifying puzzle. Sharon exhaled slowly through her nose. What she was about to do could very well compromise her shaky status at the CIA and breach the trust Maria had in her, but she’d never been one for playing it safe, and in the case of magnetohydrodynamics and supersoldiers, the ends justified the means.
“Dr. Lynch is the reason I’m here,” she said, throwing caution to the wind. She sat up on the bed and folded her legs under her. “There’s more to his pain reliever study than meets the eye. Help me locate his lab and access his data, and I’ll help you recover your findings.”
“Deal,” said Jane, practically radiating with newfound hope. She perched on the edge of the bed and heeled off her own shoes. “A lot of his data is probably mine anyway.”
“That’s what I’m hoping. It’ll kill two birds with one stone.” Sharon scooted over so Jane could prop up next to her against the headboard. “It really sucks that he’d do that to you. Steal your findings, I mean.”
Jane grimaced. “Happens a lot, actually. Unless you’re meticulous about documenting your findings every step of the way, it’s hard to prove ownership of intellectual property. All my documentation is on that laptop that was seized when he shut down the lab. I never transferred it to my flash drive.”
“How is taking the laptop not theft? Couldn’t you just go to the cops?”
“The project bought and paid for all the equipment, so technically it is his.” Jane slumped forward and rested her elbows on her knees. “You’d think after SHIELD took all my equipment a few years ago I’d be more careful about backing everything up. Ugh, I feel like such an idiot. I mean, who doesn’t back up their data?”
Sharon dropped her arm around Jane’s shoulders and gave them a little squeeze. “Don’t beat yourself up. We’ll find it.”
Jane offered up a half-hearted smile in response. “Thanks.”
“I was serious downstairs when I said I admired your work. It’s amazing how much you’re able to discover in a little bit of space dust. I can’t even begin to imagine.”
“There’s an entire universe in there,” Jane replied, becoming more animated. “If you think space is infinite in size, just peer into a microscope. And we’re only just beginning to scratch the surface of atomic and molecular physics. It’s fascinating! Oh, but what you do is exciting, too,” Jane quickly added.
Sharon snorted. “This is the first time in months I’ve done anything more exciting than take a box of cold cases down to secure storage. I don’t know what I expected when I joined the CIA. Not sitting at a desk.”
Jane gave Sharon’s leg a pat. “You’re not sitting at a desk right now.” Her eyes lit up. “Hey! My room is two floors up. I’ll get my stuff and take the other bed, so we can do some digging around on Dr. Lynch…that is if you don’t mind a roomie.”
“I’d like that,” Sharon replied earnestly. “It’s been a while since I’ve had a roommate.”
~*~
The next morning, after a brief check-in with Maria Hill, during which she conveniently forgot to mention Jane’s involvement in the case, Sharon hit the road in the rental car with Jane strapped into the passenger side. A lot of Google searching the night before had turned up a mailing address and office location for a Dr. Harold Lynch there in Bethesda. Apparently, he worked as a consultant for a medical diagnostic imaging group, designing new types of MRIs.
“It’s too easy,” Jane commented as the scenery flew by at 60 mph. “There’s no way we’re going to walk into his office and find the study sitting on his desk, assuming we can even get in to see him.”
“Trust me. It’s never as easy as it looks.” Sharon glanced sideways at Jane. “We know he’s not conducting research at the MRI lab, and I doubt there will be anything about the study lying around, but I’m hoping to find some sort of clue in his office.”
“Okay. What sort of clue?” Jane bit her thumbnail nervously.
“I’ll know it when I see it.”
The diagnostic imaging lab was located near a sprawling medical plaza on the east side of town. Sharon pulled into a parking spot and turned the engine off. “Here’s the story,” she said, turning in her seat. “You’re a physician wanting to learn more about the latest imaging device, and I’m a medical equipment rep looking for a new account. Hopefully, someone will be able to give us a tour of the building. You occupy them and I’ll duck out and find Lynch’s office.”
“And you’re sure this is going to work?”
“Nope.” Sharon pulled out her Madison Collier ID badge from the day before and pinned it to the lapel of her suit. “But it’s the best idea I’ve got.”
Much to their surprise, the idea worked beautifully. A tall, skinny redhead named Dan responded to the receptionist’s call, and escorted them back to the lab.
“Thank you so much for showing us around without an appointment,” gushed Jane. “We were in town for the conference and thought we could kill two birds with one stone.”
“No problem,” said Dan with a toothy smile. “It’s a little early, but most of the lab techs are here, and I’m happy to show you the equipment and answer whatever questions you have about the various devices.”
“Before we get started, I…um…is there a restroom?” asked Sharon. She grinned sheepishly. “Too much coffee.”
“Sure. Right around the corner and on your right. The lab is just down here, so join us once you’re finished.”
“Thanks!” Sharon ducked around the corner, waited until she heard the click of Jane’s heels fading away, then stepped back into the hallway. According to the directory she’d studied in the entrance, Dr. Lynch’s office was on this floor, suite 212. She tapped gently on the door. “Dr. Lynch?” Nothing but silence. She opened her purse and pulled out the SHIELD issued key card scanner, and held it up to the swipe pad just beside the door. It quickly cycled through a series of numbers and the key pad lit up bright green. Carefully, she eased the door open and stepped inside.
It wasn’t a large office, but it was neat and well organized. A dark wood executive desk took up most of the room, with a small filing cabinet and a side table on the far end. She eyed the computer, but quickly dismissed trying to scan it for files. Chances were slim that he’d keep any of his other work on this particular computer, anyway. What she did notice, though, was an outbox full of unsorted papers, most of which looked to be requisition forms for supplies. She perched on the edge of the desk and began rifling through the pile. One invoice stood out from the rest, a bill from a moving company dated six weeks ago, approximately the same date as the shut-down of Jane’s lab. She pulled out her cell phone and punched in the numbers on the top of the invoice.
“Maryland Moving,” said a voice on the other end of the line.
“Hi, yes. I wanted to confirm some information from a receipt I have for a move a few weeks ago. Invoice number 8475JHY.”
After a flurry of typing, the woman replied, “I have it. What do you need to confirm?”
“The destination address of the move.”
“1957 Rampart St, Number 225, down by the old mill district.”
“Got it, thanks.” Sharon hung up and typed the address into her phone. Not the best area of town, but she and Jane should be okay during daylight hours. It wouldn’t hurt to take a look around.
She stepped back into the hallway, made sure the door was locked behind her, rounded the corner…and slammed straight into a brick wall of muscle wearing a suit. She stumbled, but he caught her by the arm before she could trip. “You okay?”
The tall African American man looked familiar. She knew she’d seen those warm brown eyes before, but in her flustered embarrassment, she couldn’t place him. “Yes, fine. I got turned around coming from the bathroom. Which way is the lab?”
“Back the way you came, but make a right instead of a left,” he said, clearly amused. “Or I could take you there?”
“No, I’ve got it, thanks!” She turned on her heels and swiftly walked away. By the time she’d located the lab, Jane had found time to whip the lab employees into a frenzy. Each of them had models of different imaging machines pulled up on laptops and 3-D display boards for her to see, and she moved from person-to-person with the regal assurance of a queen holding court, which normally would have amused Sharon tremendously, but right now, it was time to leave. That man in the hallway…she knew him from somewhere, and she couldn’t take a chance on him being Hydra.
“Doctor, we have another appointment scheduled for 11am across town,” she announced, reaching for Jane’s elbow.
“We do?” Jane asked, brow furrowed in momentary confusion. “Oh, right!” She pulled her tote bag off the chair on which she’d hung it and hoisted it onto her shoulder. “Thank you so much for your time. I love what you’re doing with the smaller open MRI, especially. Have you thought about-“
“Doctor!” Sharon’s tone left no room for argument.
Jane nodded. “Right, we’re leaving. Thanks again!” she called as Sharon dragged her away.
“Oh, that was mesmerizing! I mean, I knew the concept behind those imaging machines but to see them in action, wow. Did you know they can render digital images nearly down to the cellular level? I’d love to see that happen with inorganic matter. Could you even imagine?”
“No, but dissecting meteor rocks isn’t on my bucket list,” said Sharon, matter of fact. She steered an enthralled Jane out the door, through the parking lot and into their silver rental car.
By that point, Jane’s notebook was out and she busily sketched an outline of one of the MRI’s she’d just seen. “If it could be adapted, and there’s no reason to think it can’t be, just think of the possibilities!”
“I have an address.”
Jane’s pencil hovered mid-air and she looked at Sharon, wide-eyed. “Oh! Why didn’t you say so?”
Sharon shook her head and grinned. “I’m not sure you would have heard me.” She pulled up the mapping app on her phone and handed it to Jane. “It’s not too far away, just down by the old paper mill. Let’s drive down and take a look.”
~*~
Forty-five minutes later, Sharon pulled the car onto a side street about a block away from the address listed on her phone. The neighborhood was sketchy, and the building itself looked like an abandoned warehouse from a distance, but from where they sat in the rental car, she could now see what appeared to be fairly sophisticated surveillance equipment trained on the entrance. Something important was in there. She knew it. Although she’d told Maria they were only going to drive past and observe, now that they were on-site, Sharon wanted to do more than just look. She swore under her breath. It’s not like she could storm the building with a single pistol and a high-strung scientist who maybe weighed 100 pounds soaking wet. She slumped back in the seat, frustrated.
As she scanned the area surrounding the building, waiting for inspiration to hit her, a hazardous waste truck circled around behind the building. There was the inspiration she’d been looking for, and it was shaped like a hazard suit. “Come on,” she said, poking Jane in the arm. “I have an idea.”
They dropped their things in the trunk, Sharon stuck the pistol in the holster on the small of her back under her suit jacket and they jogged over to the truck just as the driver and his assistant were getting out.
“Hi,” said Sharon with a quick wave. “We’re here to escort you inside.”
The driver and passenger exchanged an odd look. “Huh. That’s new,” grunted the driver. “Can’t be in close contact with the waste without a suit, though.” He reached behind the passenger seat and pulled out two plastic hazard suits and a handful of latex gloves. “Suit up, ladies, then we’ll follow behind you.”
As Sharon and Jane tugged the suits on over their clothes, the two men pulled a large covered bin down a ramp that extended from the back of the truck. “Make sure the gloves are over the sleeves of the suit, and pull the hood down, too. Don’t want to breathe in anything toxic.”
“I feel like a spaceman,” Jane remarked. She tapped on the thick plastic shield covering her face. “One small step for man, one giant leap for mankind.”
Sharon found herself panicking that she couldn’t reach her gun since it was now trapped under the suit, but it was wear the suit or stroll into the building with nothing but a grin and a prayer. This was more likely to succeed, even if it meant going gunless for a few minutes.
The men wheeled the bin up to the loading dock behind the building and waited to be buzzed inside. One of them turned toward Sharon. “We going anywhere other than the main lab on the first floor?”
“Yes, that’s why I’m out here,” lied Sharon smoothly. “There’s a new lab in the sub-basement. We’ll go on ahead and get clearance to get you down there.”
He opened his mouth to reply when the door unlocked with a loud hum. They pushed it open and stepped inside. A long, gray hallway, illuminated with bright fluorescent lights stretched out in front of them. A set of double doors swung loosely at the end of hall, with lab-coated scientists coming and going. Sharon grabbed Jane’s arm and gave her a slight shake of her head. “You guys go on to the lab,” she told the men. “We’ll find you in a few minutes.”
While the men pushed the bin down the hallway, Sharon and Jane stepped into the stairwell on their right and went up one flight. “Room 225 should be on the second floor,” Sharon commented as she pushed open the door. It opened into another brightly lit hallway lined with wooden doors and numbered placards on all sides. Room 225 was down and on the left.
“What’s the plan?” Jane adjusted her plastic face shield where it kept rubbing against her glasses.
Sharon barked out a nervous laugh. That was a good question. At this point, she was flying by the seat of her pants and hoping for a soft spot to land rather than a flagrant crash-and-burn. Time to make some stuff up. “Taking a look around for now. If you see anything that looks like it could be useful,” she said to Jane, “grab it. We don’t have time to be picky.”
The office door swung open just as Sharon touched the handle, and there they were face-to-face with Dr. Lynch. He took one look at their hazard suits and blanched. “What’s going on? Has there been an incident in the lab?”
Sharon ran with it. “Yes, there has, and I need for you to come with me,” she ordered, turning him away from Jane and in the general direction of the lab.
He nodded and blindly followed along, leaving Jane standing frozen in the hallway. For a moment, she hesitated, wondering if she should abandon the plan or not, but after a brief internal struggle over the morality of stealing, she opened the office door and stepped inside.
Everything was a mess. Papers lay strewn all over the top of Dr. Lynch’s desk, though after a quick shuffle, she determined that most of them were related to building maintenance. Jane pulled open drawers, dug through a small filing cabinet and opened an overstuffed briefcase behind the desk, but nothing yielded any results. Frustrated, she stood in the center of the room and turned in a slow circle. The glint of brushed metal on the bookcase caught her eye. A laptop! A laptop with a dent on the side and a pink Hello Kitty sticker on the top of it that her lab assistant Darcy had slapped on it as a joke. HER laptop. She gleefully snatched it from the shelf, tucked it under her arm, and stepped back out into the hallway, just in time to see Sharon come skidding around the corner. “Hurry!” called Sharon, struggling to remove the hood of her suit. “We have to go! Lynch’s office has a camera!”
Jane turned toward the door to the loading docks when Sharon yanked her arm. “No, too many people. The roof. I saw a fire escape when we were in the car. We can climb down.”
They raced up the stairs, pushed open the roof exit and burst panting and winded onto the cement rooftop. Sharon shimmied out of the plastic suit and kicked it to the side. “You go first,” she said, digging the car keys out of her pocket. “I’ll follow right behind you.”
Quickly, they dashed to the far side of the roof. Jane took the keys, held fast to the laptop and began descending the metal ladder. Just then, the door behind them flung open, hitting the brick wall with a loud bang.
Sharon pulled the gun from her holster and cocked it with a hard click. “Go! I’ll cover you,” she cried. A shot rang out, and Sharon dove for cover behind a large air conditioning unit. She returned fire, knowing that her ammunition was limited to the bullets in her clip. Her mind raced, flipping through possible exit strategies. She hadn’t considered they’d be on an actual mission when she parked the car. After all, they’d simply driven down to take a look around, not to steal a laptop, but when the opportunity presented itself, she couldn’t resist. And now, she had boxed herself into a literal corner, with no real means of escape.
The door burst open again and two more men with guns ran out. One made a beeline for the fire escape, but she hit him with a bullet to the thigh before he could get halfway there. Five more bullets left.
A shower of bullets rained down on the rooftop from up above, followed by what sounded like the roar of a small engine. Sharon shaded her eyes and looked up just in time to see a Kevlar-clad soldier with mechanical wings land on the roof next to her. He ducked and skidded over to where she crouched. His wings folded up onto his back with a click of a button on his shoulder.
“Who the hell are you?” she demanded, her gun trained right on his forehead.
He was actually a she, and she pushed her goggles up on her forehead. “Sharon, it’s me. Maria. I’m your extraction plan.”
“How? Who told you?” She dropped her arm to her side. “And where’d you get the suit?”
“I thought you might try something stupid without backup, so I sent Sam Wilson into the lab as a safeguard. The suit is his,” she replied, anger lacing her tone. “Remember this morning when you ran into the tall black guy? Check your left sleeve. Tracking device.”
Sharon silently berated herself for not being more careful. A good agent – CIA or SHIELD – would have been more aware of a tracking device. The whole thing pissed her off. “So you’re here to rescue me? I don’t need rescuing,” she spat.
“Actually, you do, and if you see another way off this rooftop, let me know, because I don’t.” Maria’s eyes hardened. “Nobody can do it all alone, and you were an idiot to try.”
Another series of shots rang out, and Sharon flung a desperate look over her shoulder. Dammit, she was right. Without help, she wouldn’t leave this rooftop alive. “Fine. What is the plan?”
Maria pressed a button on his suit and the mechanical wings on her back extended behind her once again. “I hope you’re not scared of heights.”
“You know that I’m not,” she said, holstering her gun.
“Awesome. Let’s jump off a roof.” Maria knelt behind her, strapped a harness around her waist and wrapped one arm around her. “Count of three, stand, turn clockwise and run to your six. Three…two…one.”
They moved in unison, taking only three steps before the jetpacks strapped under the suit’s wings roared to life and rocketed them up into the sky. Sharon’s stomach dropped and she closed her eyes, hands clutching at Maria’s arm. After what seemed like an eternity, she felt them descending.
“I’m aiming for the grassy spot over there,” Maria yelled into her ear. “Just like a parachute landing.”
Sharon nodded, her confidence returning. Parachute landings she could do. The ground rose up quickly to meet them, and the moment her shoes touched the ground, she ran forward, waiting for Maria kill the jetpack thrusters and slow their forward momentum.
As she caught her breath, Sharon scanned the horizon for signs of movement. “Where’s Jane?”
“Hopefully, in the car with Sam.” Maria touched her earpiece. “We’re on the ground.” She listened for a moment then said to Sharon, “they’re just around the corner.”
A black sedan pulled up to the curb on a street about fifty yards away. Maria and Sharon sprinted over to it and dove into the back seat. Sam floored the accelerator before Maria had fully closed her door.
“What the hell was that, Sharon?” barked Maria once she settled into the car. “When did ‘take a look around’ turn into ‘I’m going to take on Hydra with a pistol and smile’?”
“I saw a chance and I took it. You would have done the same.”
“No, I wouldn’t have.” Maria glared at her, seething. “It was reckless and stupid and irresponsible and flies directly in the face of SHIELD protocol.”
“Then it’s a good thing I’m not SHIELD anymore, isn’t it?” Sharon met Maria’s glare with a hard look of her own. “Otherwise, Jane and I would still be sitting in the car.”
Jane, who had managed to wriggle her way out of the hazard suit and crumpled it under her feet on the floorboard of the passenger seat, turned to look at Sharon. “And we wouldn’t have the laptop,” she added helpfully.
Maria cut her eyes over at Jane, which effectively silenced her. “So it’s okay for SHIELD to waste time and money sending more agents in behind you to retrieve your rental car and clean up your mess because you felt like taking a chance? Good to know.”
“The ends justify the means.” Sharon folded her arms over her chest resolutely.
Maria looked ready to explode. “No. They. Do. Not. Your safety is more important than whatever Hydra might or will do. It’s more important than anything. And you know the last two people who tried to take down Hydra by themselves? One is dead and the other is Captain America. Last time I checked, you’re not slinging a vibranium shield.”
“She and Cap did have me, so there’s that,” said Sam, smug grin firmly in place. “Having a Sam on your side considerably ups the odds in your favor.”
Sharon looked over at him and felt her anger uncoil. “Thank you for showing up when you did. I owe you one.”
“Part of the job,” shrugged Sam. “You’d do the same for me. And you don’t owe me anything.”
Slowly, Sharon’s righteous indignation dissipated and she met the icy glare Maria was tossing her. “I should say I’m sorry to you, too,” she grudgingly admitted. “You’re right. It was dumb to go rushing in with no backup.”
“Beg your pardon? I didn’t quite catch that.” Maria cocked her head, the hint of a smirk playing on her lips.
“I said that you were right, I was wrong and it won’t happen again,” repeated Sharon.
Maria’s smirk spread. “You know, hearing you say that I’m right just never gets old.”
Sharon rolled her eyes. “Self-righteous cow,” she muttered.
“Stubborn heifer,” grinned Maria.
Jane looked confused and glanced back and forth between them. “Are you two still fighting or not?”
Sharon smiled and shook her head. “No, it’s fine. We have a weird way of working things out.”
“Good,” said Jane, “because I was starting to wonder if I needed to come up with another bovine-related noun.”
“You know what this calls for?” Sharon began, scooting forward on the seat.
“The Trilogy,” finished Maria. “But it’s not a trilogy anymore since they filmed a fourth one.”
“Oh, Lord,” laughed Sharon. “Have you seen it? I heard it’s a mess.”
“It’s a brilliant disaster,” agreed Maria. “We have to watch it.”
Jane shifted in her seat. “What trilogy?”
Maria and Sharon exchanged a knowing look. “My apartment, tonight. Debrief at 6:30pm, Trilogy at 7. Bring chips and salsa,” said Sharon. She poked Sam on the shoulder with her finger. “Sorry. Girls only.”
“I figured,” said Sam, “but if you need some testosterone to cut through all that estrogen, let me know.”
“Oh, there’ll be plenty of testosterone. Trust me.” Sharon rubbed her hands together. “This is gonna be fun.”
~*~
The dining room table in Sharon’s apartment looked like a war zone, with papers and laptops and tablets covering most of the top of it. Jane typed her password into her dented laptop and heaved a sigh of relief when it blinked to life. “It’ll take some time to dig through all the subfolders, but it looks like everything’s here,” she said. “All my research, all of the notes for the study design and most of the preliminary findings. It’s a great feeling to know two years of my life didn’t simply disappear.”
Sharon gave her a nod. “Finally, some good news.” She flicked her gaze over to Maria who hunched over a tablet next to her. “What about the rest of it?”
Maria looked up, brow furrowed. “We recovered your rental car, wiped it down and turned it in. The CIA still thinks you’re on assignment, and Homeland Security will be paying a visit to Dr. Lynch tomorrow. It seems like they have a viable tip about manufacturing chemical weapons.”
“All’s well that ends well,” Sharon replied with the barest hint of smug satisfaction.
Maria pressed her lips together in a thin line. “There are a thousand different ways this mission could have gone horribly wrong, Sharon.”
“I know.” The smug drained from her face and she placed her hand on Maria’s arm. “It won’t happen again. I mean it this time.”
Maria smirked and gave Sharon’s hand a squeeze. “I’m going to choose to believe that.”
Ten minutes later, Sharon, Maria and Jane were piled onto Sharon’s sofa surrounded by junk food and cheap wine. “We’re starting with the fourth movie, since we haven’t properly dissected it yet,” said Sharon. “I hope it’s as much of a catastrophe as the other three.”
“It’s messy as hell. Renner is no Matt Damon, but he’s still pretty hot.” Maria shoved a handful of caramel popcorn in her mouth. “Just wait until you see the scene on the mountain where he shoots down the drone. Completely defies both logic and the laws of physics. It’s amazing.”
“Perfect.” Sharon hit play and settled back with a glass of pinot.
“So, this is what you do after a mission? Watch Jason Bourne movies?” asked Jane.
“Hell, yeah,” said Sharon. “Reminds us how shitty we actually are as agents. I mean, if Bourne can take out an armed agent with a ballpoint pen, why can’t we? And I’m pretty sure there’s some bad science in there to entertain you, too. A little something for everyone.”
Jane laughed and dug into her heaping bowl of mint chocolate chip ice cream. “Bring it on.”