Chapter Text
Sweat is dripping down the side of my face, underneath a baseball cap. Next to my coffee cup atop the table is the insect grave I have compiled. Popping a mint into my mouth, I lean back into the chair surveying the neighborhood. From the cafe entrance I am looking diagonally forward.
Sugar dunks into a cup of tea four tables away where I can feel Wanda stir it. Nat is two tables from her, and two tables from me, drinking the same horrible coffee.
Positioned in my ear is my comm where Steve comes on the radio.
“All right, what do you see?”
Wanda answers him, “Standard beat cops. Small station. Quiet street. It’s a good target.”
It’s been a year since the Avengers began whipping Wanda and Sam into team fighting shape. Steve and Nat thought it was important to teach the two of them the importance of field work surveillance. Unfortunately, for me it meant sitting, drinking bad coffee, for longer than necessary.
“There’s an ATM in the south corner, which means…” Steve inquires.
“Cameras,” she answers.
“Both cross streets are one way.”
I’m rather proud, she is doing well.
“So, compromised escape routes.”
My favorite.
“Means our guy doesn’t care about being seen, he isn’t afraid to make a mess on the way out. You see that Range Rover halfway up the block?”
I snort, taking another sip of the coffee. It's the cheapest instant coffee I might have ever had. Placing down the cup with puckered lips, I brush the sweat from my eyebrows. When the breeze picks up it's almost bearable.
“Yeah, the red one? It’s cute.”
“It’s also bulletproof,” Nat lectures, “which means private security, which means more guns, which means more headaches for somebody. Probably us.”
“I can already feel the bruise it's going to leave,” I muttered.
“You guys know I can move things with my mind, right?”
That she could, and well at that. Regardless, vigilance was key. Force, strength, power, it didn’t typically help when gathering intel. Which was always a large part of the job, thus requiring patience and a keen sense of observation.
“Looking over your shoulder needs to become second nature,” Nat explained.
“Anybody ever tell you you’re a little paranoid?” Sam chimed in.
“Not to my face. Why? Did you hear something?”
“Oh he heard many things, because he went looking,” I tease.
Steve cut us off, “Eyes on target, folks. This is the best lead we’ve had on Rumlow in six months. I don’t want to lose him.”
I yawned, kicking my legs up so that they rested on the chair across from me.
“Comfortable, Thena?” Nat questioned.
Looking to my right slightly behind my shoulder, I gave her a smirk.
Brock Rumlow, a former HYDRA agent who posed as a S.H.I.E.L.D agent, has been a target for six months as Steve mentioned. The man was skilled in street fighting, martial arts, and military combat. He had a lot of history with Steve, Nat, and Sam, having been on several missions with them when everyone played together. Eventually Rumlow was directed by Alexander Pierce to kill Captain America and since then was a pain in the ass. During one of the fights at the Triskelion, Rumlow was almost killed by a helicarrier. A pity really.
Despite the fact that he survived with only facial scars, Brock Rumlow left HYDRA and became his own terrorist. He took on the identity Crossbones and went about his day. The last tip was that he was in Lagos, Nigeria with a group of mercenaries. The reason I was bearing the heat, drinking shitty coffee instead of being back at HQ with Alpine.
“If he sees us coming that won’t be a problem. He kind of hates us.”
Sam spoke the truth and the feeling was mutual. Blood thirsty revenge bubbled in my gut, a low broil while I kept patient and calm.
“Sam, see that garbage truck? Tag it.”
Largos was beautiful but it was hot and I was getting hungry. If more than thirty minutes went by, I was going to brave the comments from the others and get myself something to eat.
“That truck’s loaded for max weight. And the driver’s armed.”
Finally, the jitters of adrenaline were beginning. My stomach would have to wait. Placing my feet back on the floor, I gulped the last of the coffee down.
“It’s a battering ram,” Nat clarified.
“Go now,” Steve ordered.
Pushing my chair back, I stood, winking at Wanda.
“What?” she asked.
I nudged my head to the side noting which direction I was leaving from the cafe.
“He’s not hitting the police.”
Agreeing with Steve I took off in the determined direction. Another target was around here and one way more dangerous. Nat got up and headed in the opposite direction as me while Wanda left the way we had come in.
Not far from where we were was the Largos Institute for Infectious Diseases. It looked like Rumlow wanted to get in on the bio weapon trade. As a former assassin who dealt with bio weapons, I wasn’t much a fan of having to deal with them again.
Hopping onto my bike, I waited for Wanda who circled around to get onto the back.
“Good job princess.”
“Drive,” she muttered, wrapping her arms around my waist.
“Whatever you say.”
Kicking up the stand, I revved up the engine and took off in the direction of the Institute.
“Should I get egusi soup and jollof rice when we are done here?”
Wanda laughed into my shoulder, “fufu and ogbono soup.”
All of it sounded delicious and my stomach rumbled in reply.
“Body armor, AR-15’s. I make seven hostiles.”
We came up on the back side of the compound. Skidding my bike to a halt, Wanda jumped off. Unlike her I was going to have to climb my way over the wall.
“I make 5.”
Wonderful, wings, just wonderful.
“Later,” she said, her hands turning red and her body flying up into the air.
Despite the fact she couldn’t see it, I stuck my tongue out. Taping the bracelets on my wrists and ankles, gloves covered my hands and a film covered my boots. Both had adhesive patches that allowed me to scale walls, trees, and whatever else. It was an upgrade from Stark that allowed for tactileness without needing my suit, specifically for more incognito missions.
Scurrying up the wall, I hoped they had left a hostile individual for me. If I had to sit and drink that horrific coffee for nothing, I was going to be pissed.
“Sam.”
Almost there, I told myself, grabbing hold of the metal beam and launching myself over it.
“Four.”
For my reward, a crony came running at me. I threw purple sparks at his chest watching my mark radiate a burned pattern of a lightning bolt across his body.
“Three,” I tell them.
“Rumlow’s on the third floor.”
I come out from under a kind of patio overhead to see Wanda in the center of the space, hands well energized. Sam crosses behind, allowing his little wings to journey home.
“Wanda, just like we practiced,” Steve told her.
“What about the gas?” she asked.
“Get it out.”
Fair enough, she could do that. I ran up to cover her from enemy fire. Sam comes to stand in front of us, his back turned towards the mercenaries left. As he exchanges fire with one behind one of the cars I play with mine that’s behind another. I try to shove the disappointment from Rumlow and his crew. One would expect a bit better.
“Rumlow has a biological weapon.”
I looked up to see Nat racing on her bike. Unfortunately for her, she neither flies nor climbs, and had to find her way around to the entrance of the compound.
“I’m on it,” she stated.
Coming in hot, she skids the bike taking out another enemy as she engages in what appears to be Rumlow’s escape plan. Several more men come out from behind the tanks and begin their fight.
A warm up had barely begun. I pat Sam on the shoulder, and give Wanda a thumbs up, before jogging toward Nat.
Unsurprisingly, she was handling her own by the time I got through some muscle to her. That was until, the son of a bitch Rumlow, threw a grenade into the hummer.
Jumping to the ground just out of range, I ducked and covered.
“Sam. He’s in an AFV heading north.”
Grumbling, I got myself to my feet and jogged over to help Nat to hers.
“You alright?”
She grabbed my hand and got to her feet, “Never better, you.”
“Rumlow is a real pain in the ass.”
“Tell me about it.”
Producing sparks in both my hands, I called in our bikes.
“Have I told you I love you?”
Nat grabbed a hold of the bars, and hopped on, putting weight on and off the pedal. I smirk, mirroring her actions and revving my engine.
“No I don’t think so.”
With that we are off again, the wind in our untidy hair as we travel in the north direction.
“I’ve got four, they’re splitting up.”
My stomach curled as we neared the location of the hummer. It was a marketplace, full of people. Damn, did villains have to be villains so hard? Innocent people would already be injured.
Skidding to a halt, Nat flew past me.
“I got the two on the left.”
“I’m gonna assess the damage, then I’ll catch up to the ones on the right.”
“Copy.”
Stepping up and over the parked taxis, I dove into the crowds where their hummer had rammed. Luckily there were no injuries from the initial, but a yellow taxi had been hit and collided with stalls beside it. Three civilians were down, one had a bad leg injury. Switching between my shitty Yoruba and Hausa, I tried to help.
A young man needed me to pop his shoulder into place, the beams had pushed it out when the taxi had collided. The leg injury was on an elderly woman, a piece of shelving from the stale had impaled into her skin. I placed cloth around it, expressing the importance that she left it in place until medical personnel could help her. The final civilian had a head wound that needed a significant amount of pressure but would heal with some staples.
“They ditched their gear. It’s a shell game now. One of them has the payload.”
Standing, I exchanged a few more words with those gathered around, warning them to leave as quickly as they could and get the help they needed.
The damage wasn’t extensive in the market with a majority being set up specifically for the act of selling but the product loss would be difficult for the families and individuals that relied on the money or trades made. I hoped the Stark relief fund would be able to assist.
Turning to the right, I maneuver my way through the crowd, jumping across stalls and gently calling for people to get out of my way.
“He doesn’t have it. I’m empty.”
Great. Throwing myself around the bend, I see one in all black. Gotcha.
Collecting a ball of lightning into my fist, I blow out the sparks and send it directly for the target. Just as I do, Nat distracts him by hurling a basket. Sliding into home plate, I hop up and position myself to her back, fighting the two men engaging her.
Taking a blow to the head, I shake it out, watching Nat and one of the men point their guns at each other. I go to strike but the other one pulls the vial out.
“What does he have?”
No one answered me.
“Drop it. Or I’ll drop this. Drop it!”
If my lightning interacted with the glass I could break it or damage what was inside. Without an analysis of what it was, I wasn’t sure which would be worse for the world or myself.
“He’ll do it!”
“Thena,” Nat warned.
I lifted my hand up… Redwing descended down and fired at the one holding the vial. As he dropped, I sent volts into the other's body, while Nat dove and caught the vial.
“Payload secure. Thanks, Sam-” she nodded my way “- Thena.”
Rolling back my shoulders, I nodded.
“Don’t thank me.”
“I’m… not thanking that thing.”
Smirking to my side, I reached my power out to Redwing, giving him a bit of electricity. It was the equivalent of a tickle.
“His name is Redwing.”
“I’m still not thanking it.”
“He’s cute. Go ahead, pet him.”
“I leave that to Thena.”
As I laughed, Redwing pulled up into me so I could lay my palm on his wing. A boost of energy pushed against me.
“It’s unnatural your bond with technology,” Sam muttered over the radio.
“You are just jealous Redwing has a softer spot for me than you,” I retorted.
Grabbing Nat’s attention, we continued to push our way through the market to find Steve.
We come up to Rumlow on his knees, Steve’s hand grasping his chest plate. Whatever Rumlow said it has Steve fixated. I looked at Nat whose face is similar to mine. Something was wrong.
“He said to me, ‘Please tell Rogers. When you gotta go, you gotta go.’’
Trailing up and down Rumlow, I try to find what he could be… Bu… No…
“Wanda!”
“And you’re coming with me.”
Rumlow activated a bomb vest. As Steve flinched, the armor ignited. To my horror, I can do nothing. Wanda focused on the blast, containing it inside a bubble around him.
I watch as she lifts him in the air and I do nothing when I see her control falter.
An explosion erupts, providing an immense amount of damage to the office building beside the market. The flames are bright, the smoke is thick, people scream. A scent of death hangs wrapped around us, one I was oh too familiar with.
Turning my head, I watched the scene seer into Wanda’s mind as she falls to her knees.
Immediately, I realized I don’t know how to operate when my team fails. Looking to Steve for guidance, I see him stare up and press his hand to his com, “Oh my… Sam… We need… Fire and rescue… on the south side of the building.”
For a brief moment we locked eyes, “We gotta get up there,” and then he went running.
I don’t know why I stood there in shock, a beat longer, staring up at the burning building, with sirens yelling in the distance. But I pushed it to fade and forced myself into action. Telling Nat to watch over Wanda, I ran for the chaos.
Heat from the sun is quite different from the heat of a fire. Scaling up the wall careful of falling debris, I tried to push myself through the flames. I could hear people crying out for help. Through the haze, I could see them burning.
Even my super human abilities cough to clear my lungs. They won’t make it, even if I can get to them.
Steve was shouting in my ear, we need fire and rescue to douse the flames.
Smashing through a window several down from the roiling red and orange colors, I crashed into running bodies. Scientists, lab assistants, workers, people shoved passed me with ranges of injuries. Some had flesh charred black and sticky. Others had their hands covering their mouths as they coughed. Ventilation. It’ll only provide more oxygen to the flames.
Reaching out my hands, I grabbed those who had fallen or been tripped and pushed them away from their doom. Many didn’t thank me, they had more important matters on their mind.
As I drew closer, I could no longer see regardless of my enhanced vision. It was as though I had foggy glasses on or a film had been placed over the lenses of my eyes. But, I continued forward stepping against the weight of the air.
Bodies whose chests no longer rose or fell were laid out in front of me. Squatting beside them, I looked over their features. One had a black rope buried in the neck with beads of varying colors. From my previous occupation, I knew those beads. A King would not be pleased.
Water began to shoot through the space moving in spastic directions while I checked the dead had truly passed on. When I finished counting, I turned and made my way back, grabbing up anyone who was still struggling.
With a person hanging over my shoulder, a broken leg most likely from being trampled, I jogged down the staircase to the ground floor. There I met with Steve who had a group of paramedics and police. Everyone was arguing.
“What are they saying?”
Tuning in, nothing good.
“We need to go.”
I could see him hesitate while I handed the paramedics the injured person.
“Now.”
There was no telling what had him change his behavior, maybe my own expression or the urgency in my voice. Didn’t matter, he followed behind me as we caught up to Wanda and Nat.
Grabbing Wanda’s hand from in front of her face, I yanked, pulling her to her feet. Thankful for my super strength, I lifted her and draped her over my shoulder. She wasn’t putting up a fight. All she could do was cry. One could check on her later. With one arm holding onto Wanda, the other hand grabbed Nat’s hand pulling her toward a bike.
She kicked one of her legs over the bike adjusting her seat. I leveled Wanda out to place both her feet on the floor and helped her onto the bike behind Nat.
“Quinjet,” Steve announced over the comms.
I nod, pushing Nat on the bike as she kicked it into gear.
Sam flew above their position headed for our way home. Stark won’t be happy. No one is going to be happy.
Sighing, I waited till Steve approached my side, his suit covered in blood.
“I’m sorry, some were… gone.”
He swallowed, “Let’s get home.”
Trying to smile, I gave up. Today wasn’t a bad day, today was a disaster. There was no coming back from it and surely there was going to be punishment. An honest mistake that killed many people and injured hundreds. Not even the Stark relief fund would be able to fix that catastrophe.
Running always helped clear my head. Unfortunately the run to the quinjet wasn’t long enough.
The jet’s ramp closed as I stalked past Steve pushing him backwards, “check on her.”
I would fly the jet back, it only made sense. Sitting in the pilot’s chair, I flipped on the switches pulsing my power into the switchboards. It flowed through the jet, checking for any problems. We didn’t have time for a full pre-flight check, soon someone would want answers and dealt punishment.
“Buckle up” I said, twisting the chair to face the others.
Sam was seated with his head in his hands, his glasses and wrist coverings on the seat beside him. Nat crouched one of her hands on Wanda’s shaking knees, quietly comforting. She took a seat beside the shaking witch as Steve took the other seat nearest them. Wanda’s makeup had smeared and was running down her face.
Six months, they had waited six months. Rumlow had been dealt with, but at what cost I wondered.
A steep one was my final thought before I pulled upward and slowly made my climb to the sky.