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Entry tags:
Avengers - Infiltration
Title: Infiltration
Genre: Gen, Team
Rating: PG-13
Length: ~4,750 words
Warnings: Mild language
Synopsis: The infiltration was subtle, but not unnoticeable. Now all she has to do is stop it before it is too late.
Author's Notes: See end of fic for notes as the prompt gives it away a bit.
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters and am making no profit from this.
Also available at AO3.
The infiltration was subtle, but not unnoticeable. It was also highly effective. Natasha herself would have been taken out before the incident had even truly begun, had it not been for the slight scent of jasmine in the air, tainted with a definite chemical undertone. She dropped to the floor and ripped a strip of cloth from her shirt to cover her mouth with, refusing to breathe in whatever they were attempting to dose her with.
She moved towards the nearest control panel, wanting a physical manifestation of the state of the systems and not trusting that whoever had orchestrated the attack would not be listening in should she attempt to contact JARVIS. The display confirmed her fears: there was a chemical compound released and it had traveled through the majority of the ventilation system for the upper half of the tower already.
"I apologize, Agent Romanov, but the toxin was released prior to the safety protocols taking effect. Doctor Banner attempted to flush the intake-," JARVIS explained in his usual calm tones, but she cut him off.
"Visual only," she hissed through her makeshift mask. She did not need whoever set off the toxin knowing who or where she was and, quite frankly, a computer talking to her was a dead giveaway.
The system complied, and the screens filled with schematics of the tower, the current concentrations of the substance per location, and scenes of Banner's lab with glass shattered on the floor and a certain scientist slumped beside it.
Bruce. She had to protect him. She had to protect the team. Banner was unconscious, which meant there was very little chance of the Hulk making an appearance, but it also meant he was as good as defenseless. The lab was only two floors beneath her, which meant she was close enough to either render aid or lock it down. The data showed no one else near by.
"Alert the others," she ordered. Then, as an afterthought, added, "Quietly." She doubted the AI would make a general call to arms announcement across the building but better safe than sorry, especially with an unknown element at play. "I'm going to Bruce."
"Agent," JARVIS began, but she shut him down again.
She grabbed a comm and slipped it in her ear. "Visual or comms only, nothing broadcast until we know if this is more than a gas leak," she ordered. This time, his response of compliance sounded solely through the device.
The two levels were easy enough to navigate, and she only needed to duck out of the way twice. She allowed herself a quick glance, and was rewarded with a view of armed soldiers, though she did not recognize the uniform enough to identify their allegiance as anything other than simply "not hers." She did not take them on, not yet, not while Banner's life could still be at stake, but she did whisper the order to update the others.
Bruce was still dead to the world when she found him. Pulse was slow but steady, breathing shallow and quick. His lab was stocked with all sorts of equipment and supplies, and she took a filtration mask for herself and strapped another around him to limit his intake of the toxin. As an after thought, she grabbed the other two readily available and hoped her remaining teammates had defenses of their own.
She debated moving Banner to the infirmary area, which would be difficult but doable, but stopped at the sound of voices and the dimness of shadows crossing in the hallway outside the lab. She dragged him out of view instead, placed him in the small office off to the side, and locked everything down with her own personal emergency protocols.
He would be safe there, or at least safer than where she was going. She needed weapons, and she had more than a fair idea where to get them.
She was nearly to the training rooms when a voice of someone decidedly not JARVIS sounded in her ear. "Nat, you there?"
"Barton?" she confirmed, pressing her back up against another wall. There was movement ahead and she could not confirm the source just yet.
"Affirmative, the one and only," he said. His voice sounded odd, as though he were running. Not quite breathless, but not quite not. "What is the situation?"
"Tower has been compromised. A toxin has been released and there are unknown entities on at least levels eighteen through twenty," she told him. She checked the spare masks attached to her belt and advised, "I have protection if you need it."
There was a pause, too long of one, before he announced, "I'm not seeing anyone on those levels. Shit, wait, no, there they are. They must be messing with the systems; readings are spotty at best. You're damn near surrounded, Tasha. I'm not that far. I'm assuming you're going for weaponry?"
"Confirmed."
"I'll meet you there. Give me five, maybe seven minutes at the most," he told her before the comm clicked off.
Good. Backup, weaponry; things were starting to shape up. Of course, she needed to actually get to that backup and weaponry and then the two of them needed to find the others, but it was at least a start and that was something she could work with.
There was a man just outside of the training area. Armed, masked, pacing. She made a run for him and took him to the ground near effortlessly. He was still breathing though. This would not normally be a concern, but she heard him call for help, which meant his was wired in to whoever was infiltrating the building. She knocked him out and took his comm. Good quality, approximating SHIELD standard, really. This meant professionals, as though she had doubted such before with their ability to get this far.
She replaced the comm she had been using to speak to Clint with the new one, and heard snippets of stilted conversation. "Jones? Assume he's down. That means she's going to arm herself, but it also means we know where she is. Team Five, approach with caution."
She managed the lock on the training area easily enough, which she took to mean that they had not yet taken full control of the systems. Then again, the day someone could fully hack JARVIS would likely be the day the world itself ended. She knew the layout and supplies by heart, and only took a moment to verify nothing was out of place before she started to grab what she would need.
They did not train with live ammo, not in the tower. Other weapons were available though, everything from bokkans and daitos to sharpened blades and of course Barton had several bows with basic arrows as well. She had taken down full tactical teams with less before, which is why she did not even bother to head for the full weapons locker several floors below her current location and doubtlessly under guard from far more than a single lackey.
She heard a sound and dared to look outside of the weapons cache. It was Barton. He lowered himself from the ventilation shaft on the far side of the training grounds and glanced at the nearest door once before he started to head her way, one of his bows in hand, a makeshift quiver at his waist.
He never made it.
Three men, dressed as she had seen previously, exploded through the door. Shards of wood and splinters flew through the air and Clint was left exposed to it all. He darted across the open area and dodged at least two feathered tranqs before one hit him soundly in the leg. He barely paused before he dug it out and threw it to the side, but it was enough for the men to get closer. Too close to use his bow effectively.
He engaged them in hand to hand, or more accurately hand to bow, having kicked the larger guns away and occupied his assailants before they could reach for the smaller caliber armory still strapped to their thighs. Under his breath yet still echoing above with the sounds of the fight, she heard, "Run!"
She hated leaving him behind, but knew she had no choice. One of them had to get free and report the situation, and she was better suited to that task given the current circumstances. She kicked another quiver of arrows in his direction and grinned when she heard mass profanity from the attackers at the action, and then she took off before she too became a target.
Stairwells were too obvious and so she avoided them, sticking to the elevator shafts instead. She did not immediately climb to the bottom, but used her overrides to get off at the emergency command center level first, knowing Stark and Rogers were most likely to head there.
Stark was there, or at least his suit was. Given that it was surrounded by armed men, she doubted he had been successful in locking down the area. One of them men made a face, enough so that she could see it even though his filtration mask, and sneered, "You really think your suit can protect you from the fumes? Like you weren't exposed long before red and gold came into play?"
She hoped his tech was enough to protect him, even as she questioned why he had not taken the men out yet. She looked closer though, and saw his suit had taken a beating, repulsors barely flickering against what she now saw as energy bonds wrapped around him.
"Sir!" one of the lackeys called. "We're showing movement. Barton is contained, finally, but Romanov made it out." The screens behind him flickered, and she saw Clint bloodied and beaten, hanging limp and unmoving from two men while a third with a gun approached, multiple men using an actual battering ram to try to break into Bruce's office, and Steve surrounded with his hands out in the way that usually indicated he was about to take a lot of people down. Thor was nowhere to be found, but she took note of Rogers' last known position to see if she could get to him before they sent reinforcements.
A voice drew her back to the more immediate needs though, and she heard the man announce, "She made it to this level, heat signature confirms it."
She took that as her queue to slip away, a fact reinforced by Stark's almost panicked call of, "Nat? Get me out of here!"
She assumed he was talking to her as there was no way in hell his captors were just going to release him, weakened though he was, to join forces with one of his few teammates currently still free. She also knew he was genius enough to realize she could not get to him, not in the apparent stronghold of the invasion, and still get out to let SHIELD know what was happening before Thor and Steve also fell.
"Sorry, Stark, you're on your own for now," she whispered before she rappelled down another four floors to Rogers' level.
She found him still surrounded by the same number of attackers as before, only now three-fourths of them were unconscious at his feet. She helped finish off the remainder with minimal fuss and only one quickly stalled punch from her teammate. "What's the situation?" he asked, barely out of breath. "I got nothing but the 'you're coming with us' routine from these guys and you know how well that goes, especially after you had already pulled the alarm."
She handed him the spare mask even though his serum seemed to be keeping the worst of the toxin's effects at bay. "Unknown toxin released via the ventilation system, armed soldiers already deployed in the tower. Stark and Barton are down and they are working on getting to Banner," she reported.
"Hulk?" he prompted.
"Out of play until Banner regains consciousness," she replied. Then, knowing the next logical question, added, "Thor is currently a non-entity, whereabouts unknown."
"You've got a plan?" he asked. His shield was gone, but he pocketed two guns and handed her a third. The men appeared to have been armed with a mixture of stun weapons and actual live rounds, as though they had suspected one would be enough but brought backup just in case. Foolish, and obviously ineffective. Perhaps they were not as well trained as she had originally suspected, or else they were simply overconfident, which could prove deadly for both sides.
She nodded and rearranged her weaponry. "We get out of here and get to a SHIELD safe house. We can contact reinforcements from there."
She turned towards the door, knowing time was limited, but found a hand on her shoulder holding her back. She looked to Steve questioningly, and he seemed almost apologetic as he explained, "They are SHIELD, Natasha. Look at the uniforms."
She turned to the unconscious men and crouched down to examine their gear. It was closer than she had first suspected, but something still felt off. She wrenched a mask off one of the men and tried to place his face from the usual roster. Standing now, she shook her head. "Close, but not close enough," she replied. "He's not one of ours, at least not one with the clearance to be here. Either they're fake, or there's a rogue faction. Either way, they're good. We still need to get to a safe house. I can hack the servers from there to see if they are SHIELD-authorized or if we'll have some help taking them down."
He nodded, but still looked concerned. Most importantly though, he followed her lead. The combination of the the gas and the exertion so far meant that her arms and legs had the dull ache of impending exhaustion by the time they climbed to the bottom of the elevator shaft, and his quick reflexes steadied her even while his manners prevented him from calling her out on the need for his assistance.
Having him along also meant they made short work out of the emergency hatches and sealed doorways and so, two hallways and a false vent later, she was kicking away the cover that led to the private parking garage.
Rogers wanted his bike, but that left them both exposed and a target as far too many people would recognize it and therefore them. Most of Stark's cars were flashy and obvious as well, but Barton insisted on keeping a far more low-key Dodge in the garage, mainly because he couldn't resist the pun of driving an Avenger. She decided that would blend in the best, plus would have the added benefit of Clint's paranoia and therefore hidden weapons and bulletproof reinforcement on their side. She grabbed the keys and slid into the driver's seat before she yanked off her mask, finally breathing in air that wasn't scented with jasmine or charcoal.
She keyed the sequence that would open the first of several doors that would lead to their escape and revved the engine in preparation for the expected chase. Instead of freedom, however, the heavy metal clanked open to reveal a near phalanx of armed men, Director Fury himself right at the forefront.
Steve gave her a look that screamed "I told you so," but he simply flipped the safety on his gun instead of gloating. She spent a brief second of thought in the hope that SHIELD had been alerted by JARVIS and were there to assist, and then Fury ordered, "Stand down, Agent Romanov."
He stepped forward, hands up as if to show he was unarmed. She knew that to be a lie even as the squadron of men behind him shifted as one. She turned to Rogers and said, "We have one chance at this. Ready?"
He nodded, but anything he said was lost in the high pitch whine that sounded right before the front two tires were blown out. A dart of red, and the back two blew as well, and shortly thereafter the familiar vestige of Iron Man landed in front of the car.
"They have the armor," she breathed. Tony would die before he would hand that over. For them to obtain it, for them to overpower the system and controls, meant that things were far worse than she could have ever imagined.
The mask flipped up, and not for the first time did she question what she saw. It was Stark himself. He looked pained, concerned. Mind control would explain how they overpowered the safeties so quickly, but she didn't think SHIELD was capable of such a feat in such a limited time. It should have taken days, or at least far more hours than had passed, for them to obtain that much control. She had shared breakfast with Stark just that morning and he was fine.
Something was clearly not right here.
He was speaking, and she forced herself to listen, if even just to catch a tell as to what was truly going on. "Nat, Natasha... You have been exposed to a toxin, a neurotoxin to be more exact. One of Bruce's samples was contaminated - we're still looking into whether or not it was intentional - and it caused a reaction he didn't, couldn't, plan for."
It was reasonable, with just enough possibility of facts for the lie to almost be believable.
"The primary side effects are hallucinations and irrational behavior," Fury continued, and she snorted at the obviousness of it all.
"Yeah, because she's totally going to believe that if she's already influenced," Stark rolled his eyes. He waved a hand and the room filled with holographic projections. One showed Bruce being fitted with an oxygen mask and another showed Clint being lowered to a gurney, medics swarming at his side. "They're going to be fine. If they were conscious I'd have them tell you that themselves, but they're not so you're going to have to believe me. We're developing an anti-toxin. So far the side effects suck, but it should work and prevent pesky things like death. I consider that a plus, personally, but I'm not a kamikaze assassin who has convinced a super soldier that the world wants them dead, so there's that. Anyway, for the interim we're sedating anyone who's been hit that's already showing signs of being infected - that'd be you, by the way, and most definitely Merida the Feisty in the gym - so that they don't hurt themselves or others."
For a moment, for a brief second, there was the hint of the real him, and her mind whirled with the possibilities of just how to free him, how to overpower Fury and his men and get him to fight long enough to break whatever control they held.
That second was the distraction they had been waiting for.
The rear window exploded despite the ballistic-grade glass and a canister that spewed heavy blue gas landed soundly in the back seat. Stark's faceplate flipped down and Fury pulled on a mask and she knew she had been played, that her moment of almost trust had been repaid with deception.
The gas was filling the small, contained area quickly and she coughed as it burned her lungs, far too late for a mask to be of use. She did the only thing she could think of and grabbed her stolen gun, popped the door, and hit the ground firing.
They had been waiting for her though, prepared as always. Stark blocked the shots with his suit and blue-white light arced towards her as a tazer was fired. Electricity coursed through her body, and she willed her tired limbs to fight it, to keep going, to help her survive.
There were hands on her now, even as she flailed, even as she did damage with what limited faculties she had left, but they were too strong. Her narrowed eyes noted the swish of red and flash of silver and she knew it was a losing battle if they somehow already had Thor on their side, but she had to try anyway. She knocked the first syringe away, but the second needle sank deep into her skin. Her body near immediately grew limp and she was lowered to the ground, a circle of weapons still pointed in her direction.
The largest weapon strode forth, red and gold filling her blurred vision. "There will be an anti-toxin, Nat," Stark's voice promised.
Her world faded to black with the echo of Rogers' orders for Thor to release him. Before she gave in to unconsciousness entirely, she paused to question just how they had repaired the armor so quickly, how they knew the codes and escape routes, if they had broke Stark so easily that he had given up even those secrets kept from SHIELD's knowledge, and why everything she had dared to believe in had betrayed her.
She awoke to a pounding headache, a dry mouth, and metal and leather binding her to a hospital bed. An IV pumped cold liquid into her veins, and a monitor beeped in time to her pulse. She moved slightly, testing her bonds, but it was enough to alert those who surrounded her.
"Sister Widow, are you well?" Thor asked. He leaned forward, the bed tilting slightly from his weight even though it was clear he was being cautious.
"Hey, Romanov, you yourself again?" another voice sounded. Stark strode forward, metal suit traded for something shiny and grey. He looked at her, and then at the various monitors that surrounded her. "Readings show blood levels are back to normal, but there's no telling how long the effects will last. You still feel like killing me? Offing us all on your way to freedom?"
"She always feels like killing you, Stark. Most of us usually do," Clint drawled. Her head whipped to the side to see him, alive and well and perched on a chair at the side of her bed. He waved and in the process revealed bruises and scratches and a SHIELD Medical bracelet of his very own.
"Was trying to save you," she rasped.
Thor propped her up as much as her bonds would allow, and Tony poured her a cup of water with a straw that he held to her lips. She didn't want to take it, still not certain of their intentions and whether or not it was tainted. She shook her head and several thoughts slid into place, not the least of which was that they already had something being delivered to her intravenously so a cup was hardly the largest threat at hand. They looked worried, the three of them. Dark shadows and lines marred even Thor's usually jubilant features. Behind them were the familiar walls of Medical, the boards and charts all precisely where they should be. Noise drifted in from the hallway through the unlocked and open door, the comings and goings of agents on pre- and post-mission checks mingling with the beeps and alarms of those there for the longer haul.
One noise in particular drew her attention more than the others. It was the voice of a rather exhausted sounding Banner chiding someone that he needed rest and that he should barely be standing let alone wandering around. That someone came into view, and it was Rogers, wearing a hospital gown just like she was, the remnants of restraints bouncing like bracelets on his wrists. "She's awake," he insisted. "She needs someone she can trust and..."
"She's getting a full view of your all American ass in that getup," Stark pointed out, lowering the cup. He made a show of leaning back and then glancing at the doorway. "No, wait, that's everyone else in the place. Really, can we get the guy some pants?"
Steve walked in, ignoring Tony's antics as his bare feet slapped against the metal grating of the floor. She was willing to bet his ankles were as decorated as his wrists, though it was difficult to tell from her current angle. He stepped right up beside the bed and quickly unbuckled the nearest restraint holding her in place. "We're fine," he insisted as he reached for the next one. She wasn't sure if he was talking to her or the others, but appreciated the gesture.
Clint undid the ones on his side, but stilled the hand that reached for the IV and other lines. "That crap was seriously dehydrating and screws with everything," he explained. "This stuff is supposed to help, but it's up to you if you think you need it."
She yanked the lines and he simply shrugged, doing absolutely nothing to stop her. Bruce flipped off the wailing monitors and Tony waived off the rushing nurses while still begging for super soldier-sized pants. "The readings have been normal for over an hour anyway," Banner told her. "If this makes you more comfortable, they can live with it."
She struggled to right the image of her teammates now with the last memories she had of each of them. Banner was up and walking around, seemingly healthy and whole and clearly at ease if the Hulk was nowhere to be seen. Barton playing with the tag around his wrist, no trace of panic in his gaze as he held up the little band for Thor to easily snap off. Thor himself was hovering protectively, trying to be as unthreatening as a giant mass of muscle could be. Stark was clearly already bored, poking at the straw and Steve's gown and the controls for the bed before his hands were slapped away. Steve himself watched her steadily, eyes clear of the glassy undertones from their escape, an escape that was making less and less sense with each passing moment.
"Why didn't JARVIS warn me?" she asked, waiting for their answers to either betray them or convince her of their loyalties.
"He tried," Tony shrugged. "You kicked him into visual or comm only mode which doesn't work so well when you're already seeing and hearing things. I tried to override your comm to see if you'd listen to me, but you had switched it out with Jones' and some idiot closed that line as compromised to plan how to stop you instead of letting us use it to convince you of what was really going on."
"I wouldn't have believed you anyway," she admitted, which he seemed to take as his due.
"Do you now?" Banner asked, and the entire room seemed to wait for her answer.
She thought of those that she tried to save, thought of memories that didn't make sense, thought of how every single supposed enemy agent tried to subdue instead of annihilate, thought of how those who she wished to protect now hovered around trying to do the same for her. She thought of how many times in the past others had tried to control her, tried to rewrite her memories and force her to their will. She thought of how absolutely none of the others had ever actually acted concerned for her well being after they molded her into a new being, and how her team was actively trying to put her at ease all the way down to yet another silly little music box for her room sitting next to a ridiculously ostentatious bouquet and teddy bear on the table off to the side.
Plus Rogers flying free and easy in the breeze despite the commentary and less than subtle looks of the people passing by while he focused in her and her answer went a long way towards convincing her of the truth - few things got him past his usual embarrassment save for his need to ensure the safety of his team.
She reached for the water and took a blissful if freezing sip. She swallowed and slowly licked the taste from her lips, considering them while they considered her. "I'm getting there," she told them, and earned more than a single relieved smile for her efforts.
She would be looking around corners, questioning even the simplest of gestures for months - far longer than most could keep up a believable facade - but for now she would play their game and maybe even hope that this new reality was a truth she could live with. If not, well, they would have to let their guard down eventually.
She wondered if they would be ready for her when they did.
End.
Author's Notes: For the "hallucinations" square at![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
hc_bingo.
Feedback is always welcomed.
Genre: Gen, Team
Rating: PG-13
Length: ~4,750 words
Warnings: Mild language
Synopsis: The infiltration was subtle, but not unnoticeable. Now all she has to do is stop it before it is too late.
Author's Notes: See end of fic for notes as the prompt gives it away a bit.
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters and am making no profit from this.
Also available at AO3.
The infiltration was subtle, but not unnoticeable. It was also highly effective. Natasha herself would have been taken out before the incident had even truly begun, had it not been for the slight scent of jasmine in the air, tainted with a definite chemical undertone. She dropped to the floor and ripped a strip of cloth from her shirt to cover her mouth with, refusing to breathe in whatever they were attempting to dose her with.
She moved towards the nearest control panel, wanting a physical manifestation of the state of the systems and not trusting that whoever had orchestrated the attack would not be listening in should she attempt to contact JARVIS. The display confirmed her fears: there was a chemical compound released and it had traveled through the majority of the ventilation system for the upper half of the tower already.
"I apologize, Agent Romanov, but the toxin was released prior to the safety protocols taking effect. Doctor Banner attempted to flush the intake-," JARVIS explained in his usual calm tones, but she cut him off.
"Visual only," she hissed through her makeshift mask. She did not need whoever set off the toxin knowing who or where she was and, quite frankly, a computer talking to her was a dead giveaway.
The system complied, and the screens filled with schematics of the tower, the current concentrations of the substance per location, and scenes of Banner's lab with glass shattered on the floor and a certain scientist slumped beside it.
Bruce. She had to protect him. She had to protect the team. Banner was unconscious, which meant there was very little chance of the Hulk making an appearance, but it also meant he was as good as defenseless. The lab was only two floors beneath her, which meant she was close enough to either render aid or lock it down. The data showed no one else near by.
"Alert the others," she ordered. Then, as an afterthought, added, "Quietly." She doubted the AI would make a general call to arms announcement across the building but better safe than sorry, especially with an unknown element at play. "I'm going to Bruce."
"Agent," JARVIS began, but she shut him down again.
She grabbed a comm and slipped it in her ear. "Visual or comms only, nothing broadcast until we know if this is more than a gas leak," she ordered. This time, his response of compliance sounded solely through the device.
The two levels were easy enough to navigate, and she only needed to duck out of the way twice. She allowed herself a quick glance, and was rewarded with a view of armed soldiers, though she did not recognize the uniform enough to identify their allegiance as anything other than simply "not hers." She did not take them on, not yet, not while Banner's life could still be at stake, but she did whisper the order to update the others.
Bruce was still dead to the world when she found him. Pulse was slow but steady, breathing shallow and quick. His lab was stocked with all sorts of equipment and supplies, and she took a filtration mask for herself and strapped another around him to limit his intake of the toxin. As an after thought, she grabbed the other two readily available and hoped her remaining teammates had defenses of their own.
She debated moving Banner to the infirmary area, which would be difficult but doable, but stopped at the sound of voices and the dimness of shadows crossing in the hallway outside the lab. She dragged him out of view instead, placed him in the small office off to the side, and locked everything down with her own personal emergency protocols.
He would be safe there, or at least safer than where she was going. She needed weapons, and she had more than a fair idea where to get them.
She was nearly to the training rooms when a voice of someone decidedly not JARVIS sounded in her ear. "Nat, you there?"
"Barton?" she confirmed, pressing her back up against another wall. There was movement ahead and she could not confirm the source just yet.
"Affirmative, the one and only," he said. His voice sounded odd, as though he were running. Not quite breathless, but not quite not. "What is the situation?"
"Tower has been compromised. A toxin has been released and there are unknown entities on at least levels eighteen through twenty," she told him. She checked the spare masks attached to her belt and advised, "I have protection if you need it."
There was a pause, too long of one, before he announced, "I'm not seeing anyone on those levels. Shit, wait, no, there they are. They must be messing with the systems; readings are spotty at best. You're damn near surrounded, Tasha. I'm not that far. I'm assuming you're going for weaponry?"
"Confirmed."
"I'll meet you there. Give me five, maybe seven minutes at the most," he told her before the comm clicked off.
Good. Backup, weaponry; things were starting to shape up. Of course, she needed to actually get to that backup and weaponry and then the two of them needed to find the others, but it was at least a start and that was something she could work with.
There was a man just outside of the training area. Armed, masked, pacing. She made a run for him and took him to the ground near effortlessly. He was still breathing though. This would not normally be a concern, but she heard him call for help, which meant his was wired in to whoever was infiltrating the building. She knocked him out and took his comm. Good quality, approximating SHIELD standard, really. This meant professionals, as though she had doubted such before with their ability to get this far.
She replaced the comm she had been using to speak to Clint with the new one, and heard snippets of stilted conversation. "Jones? Assume he's down. That means she's going to arm herself, but it also means we know where she is. Team Five, approach with caution."
She managed the lock on the training area easily enough, which she took to mean that they had not yet taken full control of the systems. Then again, the day someone could fully hack JARVIS would likely be the day the world itself ended. She knew the layout and supplies by heart, and only took a moment to verify nothing was out of place before she started to grab what she would need.
They did not train with live ammo, not in the tower. Other weapons were available though, everything from bokkans and daitos to sharpened blades and of course Barton had several bows with basic arrows as well. She had taken down full tactical teams with less before, which is why she did not even bother to head for the full weapons locker several floors below her current location and doubtlessly under guard from far more than a single lackey.
She heard a sound and dared to look outside of the weapons cache. It was Barton. He lowered himself from the ventilation shaft on the far side of the training grounds and glanced at the nearest door once before he started to head her way, one of his bows in hand, a makeshift quiver at his waist.
He never made it.
Three men, dressed as she had seen previously, exploded through the door. Shards of wood and splinters flew through the air and Clint was left exposed to it all. He darted across the open area and dodged at least two feathered tranqs before one hit him soundly in the leg. He barely paused before he dug it out and threw it to the side, but it was enough for the men to get closer. Too close to use his bow effectively.
He engaged them in hand to hand, or more accurately hand to bow, having kicked the larger guns away and occupied his assailants before they could reach for the smaller caliber armory still strapped to their thighs. Under his breath yet still echoing above with the sounds of the fight, she heard, "Run!"
She hated leaving him behind, but knew she had no choice. One of them had to get free and report the situation, and she was better suited to that task given the current circumstances. She kicked another quiver of arrows in his direction and grinned when she heard mass profanity from the attackers at the action, and then she took off before she too became a target.
Stairwells were too obvious and so she avoided them, sticking to the elevator shafts instead. She did not immediately climb to the bottom, but used her overrides to get off at the emergency command center level first, knowing Stark and Rogers were most likely to head there.
Stark was there, or at least his suit was. Given that it was surrounded by armed men, she doubted he had been successful in locking down the area. One of them men made a face, enough so that she could see it even though his filtration mask, and sneered, "You really think your suit can protect you from the fumes? Like you weren't exposed long before red and gold came into play?"
She hoped his tech was enough to protect him, even as she questioned why he had not taken the men out yet. She looked closer though, and saw his suit had taken a beating, repulsors barely flickering against what she now saw as energy bonds wrapped around him.
"Sir!" one of the lackeys called. "We're showing movement. Barton is contained, finally, but Romanov made it out." The screens behind him flickered, and she saw Clint bloodied and beaten, hanging limp and unmoving from two men while a third with a gun approached, multiple men using an actual battering ram to try to break into Bruce's office, and Steve surrounded with his hands out in the way that usually indicated he was about to take a lot of people down. Thor was nowhere to be found, but she took note of Rogers' last known position to see if she could get to him before they sent reinforcements.
A voice drew her back to the more immediate needs though, and she heard the man announce, "She made it to this level, heat signature confirms it."
She took that as her queue to slip away, a fact reinforced by Stark's almost panicked call of, "Nat? Get me out of here!"
She assumed he was talking to her as there was no way in hell his captors were just going to release him, weakened though he was, to join forces with one of his few teammates currently still free. She also knew he was genius enough to realize she could not get to him, not in the apparent stronghold of the invasion, and still get out to let SHIELD know what was happening before Thor and Steve also fell.
"Sorry, Stark, you're on your own for now," she whispered before she rappelled down another four floors to Rogers' level.
She found him still surrounded by the same number of attackers as before, only now three-fourths of them were unconscious at his feet. She helped finish off the remainder with minimal fuss and only one quickly stalled punch from her teammate. "What's the situation?" he asked, barely out of breath. "I got nothing but the 'you're coming with us' routine from these guys and you know how well that goes, especially after you had already pulled the alarm."
She handed him the spare mask even though his serum seemed to be keeping the worst of the toxin's effects at bay. "Unknown toxin released via the ventilation system, armed soldiers already deployed in the tower. Stark and Barton are down and they are working on getting to Banner," she reported.
"Hulk?" he prompted.
"Out of play until Banner regains consciousness," she replied. Then, knowing the next logical question, added, "Thor is currently a non-entity, whereabouts unknown."
"You've got a plan?" he asked. His shield was gone, but he pocketed two guns and handed her a third. The men appeared to have been armed with a mixture of stun weapons and actual live rounds, as though they had suspected one would be enough but brought backup just in case. Foolish, and obviously ineffective. Perhaps they were not as well trained as she had originally suspected, or else they were simply overconfident, which could prove deadly for both sides.
She nodded and rearranged her weaponry. "We get out of here and get to a SHIELD safe house. We can contact reinforcements from there."
She turned towards the door, knowing time was limited, but found a hand on her shoulder holding her back. She looked to Steve questioningly, and he seemed almost apologetic as he explained, "They are SHIELD, Natasha. Look at the uniforms."
She turned to the unconscious men and crouched down to examine their gear. It was closer than she had first suspected, but something still felt off. She wrenched a mask off one of the men and tried to place his face from the usual roster. Standing now, she shook her head. "Close, but not close enough," she replied. "He's not one of ours, at least not one with the clearance to be here. Either they're fake, or there's a rogue faction. Either way, they're good. We still need to get to a safe house. I can hack the servers from there to see if they are SHIELD-authorized or if we'll have some help taking them down."
He nodded, but still looked concerned. Most importantly though, he followed her lead. The combination of the the gas and the exertion so far meant that her arms and legs had the dull ache of impending exhaustion by the time they climbed to the bottom of the elevator shaft, and his quick reflexes steadied her even while his manners prevented him from calling her out on the need for his assistance.
Having him along also meant they made short work out of the emergency hatches and sealed doorways and so, two hallways and a false vent later, she was kicking away the cover that led to the private parking garage.
Rogers wanted his bike, but that left them both exposed and a target as far too many people would recognize it and therefore them. Most of Stark's cars were flashy and obvious as well, but Barton insisted on keeping a far more low-key Dodge in the garage, mainly because he couldn't resist the pun of driving an Avenger. She decided that would blend in the best, plus would have the added benefit of Clint's paranoia and therefore hidden weapons and bulletproof reinforcement on their side. She grabbed the keys and slid into the driver's seat before she yanked off her mask, finally breathing in air that wasn't scented with jasmine or charcoal.
She keyed the sequence that would open the first of several doors that would lead to their escape and revved the engine in preparation for the expected chase. Instead of freedom, however, the heavy metal clanked open to reveal a near phalanx of armed men, Director Fury himself right at the forefront.
Steve gave her a look that screamed "I told you so," but he simply flipped the safety on his gun instead of gloating. She spent a brief second of thought in the hope that SHIELD had been alerted by JARVIS and were there to assist, and then Fury ordered, "Stand down, Agent Romanov."
He stepped forward, hands up as if to show he was unarmed. She knew that to be a lie even as the squadron of men behind him shifted as one. She turned to Rogers and said, "We have one chance at this. Ready?"
He nodded, but anything he said was lost in the high pitch whine that sounded right before the front two tires were blown out. A dart of red, and the back two blew as well, and shortly thereafter the familiar vestige of Iron Man landed in front of the car.
"They have the armor," she breathed. Tony would die before he would hand that over. For them to obtain it, for them to overpower the system and controls, meant that things were far worse than she could have ever imagined.
The mask flipped up, and not for the first time did she question what she saw. It was Stark himself. He looked pained, concerned. Mind control would explain how they overpowered the safeties so quickly, but she didn't think SHIELD was capable of such a feat in such a limited time. It should have taken days, or at least far more hours than had passed, for them to obtain that much control. She had shared breakfast with Stark just that morning and he was fine.
Something was clearly not right here.
He was speaking, and she forced herself to listen, if even just to catch a tell as to what was truly going on. "Nat, Natasha... You have been exposed to a toxin, a neurotoxin to be more exact. One of Bruce's samples was contaminated - we're still looking into whether or not it was intentional - and it caused a reaction he didn't, couldn't, plan for."
It was reasonable, with just enough possibility of facts for the lie to almost be believable.
"The primary side effects are hallucinations and irrational behavior," Fury continued, and she snorted at the obviousness of it all.
"Yeah, because she's totally going to believe that if she's already influenced," Stark rolled his eyes. He waved a hand and the room filled with holographic projections. One showed Bruce being fitted with an oxygen mask and another showed Clint being lowered to a gurney, medics swarming at his side. "They're going to be fine. If they were conscious I'd have them tell you that themselves, but they're not so you're going to have to believe me. We're developing an anti-toxin. So far the side effects suck, but it should work and prevent pesky things like death. I consider that a plus, personally, but I'm not a kamikaze assassin who has convinced a super soldier that the world wants them dead, so there's that. Anyway, for the interim we're sedating anyone who's been hit that's already showing signs of being infected - that'd be you, by the way, and most definitely Merida the Feisty in the gym - so that they don't hurt themselves or others."
For a moment, for a brief second, there was the hint of the real him, and her mind whirled with the possibilities of just how to free him, how to overpower Fury and his men and get him to fight long enough to break whatever control they held.
That second was the distraction they had been waiting for.
The rear window exploded despite the ballistic-grade glass and a canister that spewed heavy blue gas landed soundly in the back seat. Stark's faceplate flipped down and Fury pulled on a mask and she knew she had been played, that her moment of almost trust had been repaid with deception.
The gas was filling the small, contained area quickly and she coughed as it burned her lungs, far too late for a mask to be of use. She did the only thing she could think of and grabbed her stolen gun, popped the door, and hit the ground firing.
They had been waiting for her though, prepared as always. Stark blocked the shots with his suit and blue-white light arced towards her as a tazer was fired. Electricity coursed through her body, and she willed her tired limbs to fight it, to keep going, to help her survive.
There were hands on her now, even as she flailed, even as she did damage with what limited faculties she had left, but they were too strong. Her narrowed eyes noted the swish of red and flash of silver and she knew it was a losing battle if they somehow already had Thor on their side, but she had to try anyway. She knocked the first syringe away, but the second needle sank deep into her skin. Her body near immediately grew limp and she was lowered to the ground, a circle of weapons still pointed in her direction.
The largest weapon strode forth, red and gold filling her blurred vision. "There will be an anti-toxin, Nat," Stark's voice promised.
Her world faded to black with the echo of Rogers' orders for Thor to release him. Before she gave in to unconsciousness entirely, she paused to question just how they had repaired the armor so quickly, how they knew the codes and escape routes, if they had broke Stark so easily that he had given up even those secrets kept from SHIELD's knowledge, and why everything she had dared to believe in had betrayed her.
She awoke to a pounding headache, a dry mouth, and metal and leather binding her to a hospital bed. An IV pumped cold liquid into her veins, and a monitor beeped in time to her pulse. She moved slightly, testing her bonds, but it was enough to alert those who surrounded her.
"Sister Widow, are you well?" Thor asked. He leaned forward, the bed tilting slightly from his weight even though it was clear he was being cautious.
"Hey, Romanov, you yourself again?" another voice sounded. Stark strode forward, metal suit traded for something shiny and grey. He looked at her, and then at the various monitors that surrounded her. "Readings show blood levels are back to normal, but there's no telling how long the effects will last. You still feel like killing me? Offing us all on your way to freedom?"
"She always feels like killing you, Stark. Most of us usually do," Clint drawled. Her head whipped to the side to see him, alive and well and perched on a chair at the side of her bed. He waved and in the process revealed bruises and scratches and a SHIELD Medical bracelet of his very own.
"Was trying to save you," she rasped.
Thor propped her up as much as her bonds would allow, and Tony poured her a cup of water with a straw that he held to her lips. She didn't want to take it, still not certain of their intentions and whether or not it was tainted. She shook her head and several thoughts slid into place, not the least of which was that they already had something being delivered to her intravenously so a cup was hardly the largest threat at hand. They looked worried, the three of them. Dark shadows and lines marred even Thor's usually jubilant features. Behind them were the familiar walls of Medical, the boards and charts all precisely where they should be. Noise drifted in from the hallway through the unlocked and open door, the comings and goings of agents on pre- and post-mission checks mingling with the beeps and alarms of those there for the longer haul.
One noise in particular drew her attention more than the others. It was the voice of a rather exhausted sounding Banner chiding someone that he needed rest and that he should barely be standing let alone wandering around. That someone came into view, and it was Rogers, wearing a hospital gown just like she was, the remnants of restraints bouncing like bracelets on his wrists. "She's awake," he insisted. "She needs someone she can trust and..."
"She's getting a full view of your all American ass in that getup," Stark pointed out, lowering the cup. He made a show of leaning back and then glancing at the doorway. "No, wait, that's everyone else in the place. Really, can we get the guy some pants?"
Steve walked in, ignoring Tony's antics as his bare feet slapped against the metal grating of the floor. She was willing to bet his ankles were as decorated as his wrists, though it was difficult to tell from her current angle. He stepped right up beside the bed and quickly unbuckled the nearest restraint holding her in place. "We're fine," he insisted as he reached for the next one. She wasn't sure if he was talking to her or the others, but appreciated the gesture.
Clint undid the ones on his side, but stilled the hand that reached for the IV and other lines. "That crap was seriously dehydrating and screws with everything," he explained. "This stuff is supposed to help, but it's up to you if you think you need it."
She yanked the lines and he simply shrugged, doing absolutely nothing to stop her. Bruce flipped off the wailing monitors and Tony waived off the rushing nurses while still begging for super soldier-sized pants. "The readings have been normal for over an hour anyway," Banner told her. "If this makes you more comfortable, they can live with it."
She struggled to right the image of her teammates now with the last memories she had of each of them. Banner was up and walking around, seemingly healthy and whole and clearly at ease if the Hulk was nowhere to be seen. Barton playing with the tag around his wrist, no trace of panic in his gaze as he held up the little band for Thor to easily snap off. Thor himself was hovering protectively, trying to be as unthreatening as a giant mass of muscle could be. Stark was clearly already bored, poking at the straw and Steve's gown and the controls for the bed before his hands were slapped away. Steve himself watched her steadily, eyes clear of the glassy undertones from their escape, an escape that was making less and less sense with each passing moment.
"Why didn't JARVIS warn me?" she asked, waiting for their answers to either betray them or convince her of their loyalties.
"He tried," Tony shrugged. "You kicked him into visual or comm only mode which doesn't work so well when you're already seeing and hearing things. I tried to override your comm to see if you'd listen to me, but you had switched it out with Jones' and some idiot closed that line as compromised to plan how to stop you instead of letting us use it to convince you of what was really going on."
"I wouldn't have believed you anyway," she admitted, which he seemed to take as his due.
"Do you now?" Banner asked, and the entire room seemed to wait for her answer.
She thought of those that she tried to save, thought of memories that didn't make sense, thought of how every single supposed enemy agent tried to subdue instead of annihilate, thought of how those who she wished to protect now hovered around trying to do the same for her. She thought of how many times in the past others had tried to control her, tried to rewrite her memories and force her to their will. She thought of how absolutely none of the others had ever actually acted concerned for her well being after they molded her into a new being, and how her team was actively trying to put her at ease all the way down to yet another silly little music box for her room sitting next to a ridiculously ostentatious bouquet and teddy bear on the table off to the side.
Plus Rogers flying free and easy in the breeze despite the commentary and less than subtle looks of the people passing by while he focused in her and her answer went a long way towards convincing her of the truth - few things got him past his usual embarrassment save for his need to ensure the safety of his team.
She reached for the water and took a blissful if freezing sip. She swallowed and slowly licked the taste from her lips, considering them while they considered her. "I'm getting there," she told them, and earned more than a single relieved smile for her efforts.
She would be looking around corners, questioning even the simplest of gestures for months - far longer than most could keep up a believable facade - but for now she would play their game and maybe even hope that this new reality was a truth she could live with. If not, well, they would have to let their guard down eventually.
She wondered if they would be ready for her when they did.
End.
Author's Notes: For the "hallucinations" square at
hc_bingo.Feedback is always welcomed.