"Agent Barton," the clipped, cultured voice of Jarvis said in the recorded message that Clint had opened when he'd noticed the flashing light on his phone. "Mister Stark requests that you complete your vacation with all haste and make you way to Avengers Tower."
"Bet he didn't say it like that," Clint grinned at the phone.
"There has been an incident," the recording continued, making Clint listen closer, harder. "Captain Rogers and Agent Romanoff have uncovered the fact that S.H.I. . has been infiltrated by HYDRA. One attempt has already been made upon their lives at the discovery of this information. A team has assembled and flown to Washington DC to render assistance. Mister Stark asks that you use Avengers Tower as a staging area in case additional help is required. He has left further information for you there."
In three strides, Clint was across the room and grabbing his bow.
"Laura!" he called up the stairs.
ooo00ooo
"How'd you meet this guy anyway?" Nat asked as they drove into DC.
"You've met him," Steve replied, glancing at her. "The morning you picked me up for the mission with the Lemurian Star."
Nat blinked, thinking back.
"Black guy, goatee, runs," she said.
"That's him," Steve confirmed. "Sam Wilson. He was in the 58th Rescue Squad. Now that he's home, he works with vets down at the DVA. Does some good work there helping them work their way through Posttraumatic Stress."
"Sounds a good guy," Nat commented.
"He is," Steve confirmed. "I caught the end of one his meetings. Intense but beneficial."
"And he'll help us?" she asked.
"He will," Steve replied, total conviction in his voice.
ooo00ooo
Steve led the way to the door after they had left the 'borrowed' car a couple of blocks away. The blinds to the small house were pulled up and the door opened almost immediately after he'd knocked. Sam didn't seem all that surprised to see them which surprised Steve, but then, without access to the news, there was no telling how much the fact that he was now a wanted man was being made public or conversely being kept quiet.
"Hi. Sorry to do this but we need a place to lay low," Steve said. "Everyone we know is trying to kill us."
"Not everyone," Sam said, before stepping back and allowing them entry.
As soon as they were in, Sam closed and locked the door and pulled the blinds back down. Steve could feel some of the tension dissipating just from that simple action.
"What's going on, man?" Sam asked. "You two look like you've just come from a war zone."
Steve looked down at himself and then across to Nat. Sam was right. Both of their clothes were ripped in places and covered in dirt. Cuts, dried blood and even more dirt covered their faces.
"Well, we did survive being bombed last night," Nat stated.
Sam's eyes widened and he looked to Steve for confirmation, confirmation that he gave in the form of a singular, solemn nod.
"Sam, Natasha Romanoff. Nat, Sam Wilson," Steve said.
"Hey," Sam greeted.
Nat simply returned his nod.
"Look, whatever you two are mixed up in, you can tell me or not, totally up to you," Sam said. "In the meantime, shower's through there and I'm making pancakes, assuming you people eat that sort of thing."
"Pancakes sounds great," Steve said before turning to Nat. "Any word on the others?"
"They're close," was Nat's only response over her shoulder as she disappeared towards the bathroom and shower.
"What can I do to help?" Steve asked moving towards Sam in his tiny kitchen.
"Nothing, man, I got this, take a load off, you look beat," Sam replied.
Gratefully, Steve lowered himself into a chair at Sam's kitchen table and allowed even more of the stress that he'd been feeling to fall away.
ooo00ooo
Steve, Nat and Sam walked around the top of the building, examining it for cameras and line of sight visuals – both what they could see and who could potentially see them.
"Looks good," Nat eventually decided.
"You sure about this plan?" Sam asked.
"Can you carry out your part?" Nat asked him.
"Now that I've got my wings back, it's not a problem," Sam stated. "Good height, wind won't be a factor, I'm good to go. Just making sure that you're cool with what you're planning on doing."
"I'm looking forward to seeing you in action," Steve admitted.
"Yeah, there's nothing like it," Sam smiled. "With my wings I'm as free as a bird but probably even more manoeuvrable."
Steve and Nat shared an amused look.
"Could be an interesting match up," Nat smiled.
"Broom or wings?" Steve asked.
Nat shrugged. "Either. We'll have to suggest it once this is all over."
"It's not like he's going to say 'no'," Steve replied.
"Don't mind this little guy over here, you just keep on with your code-like talk," Sam stated.
"Sorry, Sam," Steve replied. "We just know a guy who'd be interested in going flying with you."
"Yeah?" Sam asked, sounding interested. "You'll have to hook me up, then. I haven't flown with anyone since Riley – my partner, he was killed on my last tour."
Nat nodded her understanding and pulled out her phone.
"Right, looks like Sitwell's gone to lunch," she said. "Let's get in position."
ooo00ooo
"Ahhhhhh!"
S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent Jasper Sitwell's scream faded as he fell from the side of the twenty-storey building, having been kicked off of it by S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent Natasha Romanoff.
Sitwell had been on the Lemurian Star which meant that he more than likely knew what was going on. The ship was designed as a launch platform, able to send satellites into orbit, satellites including the ones that the Insight Helicarriers were to be linked to once they were in the air. And it was there that Nat, on Fury's orders, had found Zola's algorithm that they had yet to crack.
Suddenly, that scream changed slightly in tone and increased in volume once more as though the falling man heading towards the hard, unforgiving pavement was coming back towards them.
And then Sitwell shot over the top of them, held aloft by Sam Wilson wearing the last EXO-7 FALCON suit in existence, one that Nat and Steve had just recently 'liberated' for him.
It was thing of beauty; two large retractable wings, bird-like in appearance, that extended to either side of the pack strapped to his back. Manoeuvring thrusters, so tiny they could barely be seen, gave Sam the momentum that he needed to fly through the air using just the wings and 'feathers' to change his speed, direction, angle second by second. Red-tinted goggles covered his face allowing him to see even at the great speeds that he was able to achieve.
At the appropriate place, Sam dropped Sitwell to the rooftop before flying on a few more metres to touch down gracefully, his wings retracting into their pack as he turned around.
"Zola's algorithm is a program," Sitwell said rapid-fire, one hand raised towards Nat and Steve as they approached as though he was afraid that he was going to throw him off of the building again. "For choosing Insight's targets."
"What targets?" Steve asked.
"You, a mercenary in Cairo, the Undersecretary of Defence, a high school valedictorian in Iowa City, Bruce Banner, Stephen Strange, anyone who's a threat to HYDRA. Now or in the future."
"The future? How could it know?" Steve asked.
Sitwell chuckled at the question.
"How could it not?" he asked in return as he got to his feet. "The twenty-first century is a digital book. Zola taught HYDRA how to read it. Your bank records, medical history, voting pattern, emails, phone calls, your damn SAT scores. Zola's algorithm evaluates people's past to predict their future."
"What then?" Steve asked,
"Oh, my god, Pierce is going to kill me," Sitwell said, obviously realising exactly what he was doing and the consequences of telling them.
"What then?" Steve insisted, stepping forward even as Sam grabbed a hold of Sitwell's jacket from behind.
"Then the Insight Helicarriers scratch people off the list," Sitwell replied. "A few million at a time."
"When do the Helicarriers launch?" Nat asked.
Sitwell looked at her, staring her in the eye. "Forty hours from now."
"We have to stop that launch," Sam said.
"And we don't have much time," Steve stated.
"Let's get moving," Nat said.
"What about me?" Sitwell asked.
"Don't worry, you're coming, too," Nat informed him with a smile.
Sitwell blanched and only Sam's firm hold on his shoulder stopped him from trying to run.
"I'm glad back up's already on the way," Nat said to Steve as they entered the stairwell.
"Agreed," Steve replied grimly.
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