Chapter Text
April 2014
Seattle, WA
Natalie Rushman breezes through the front doors of the lobby at Hammer Industries and up to the reception desk. “Good afternoon,” she says. “I’m Natalie Rushman. This is my assistant, Desiree Langston.” The brunette woman standing behind Natalie, nose deep in a StarkPad, glances up for a moment and flicks a finger at the receptionist in greeting. Natalie continues, “I have an appointment with Dr. Welter at 3:00.”
The receptionist types into her computer, then smiles at Natalie. “Of course, Ms. Rushman. Please have a seat, and someone will be here shortly to escort you up to the lab.”
“Thank you,” Natalie replies. She makes her way to a nearby seating area, followed by her assistant, and seats herself gracefully. The two of them begin to speak in very low voices.
“I’m in,” Darcy murmurs, tapping at her StarkPad. “Wow, what a pain in the ass this is.” Then she pauses and almost grins. “Pain in the brain.”
Natasha rolls her eyes. “That was weak.” She leans over and glances at the screen of the StarkPad. “Just remember to let me do all the talking.”
“No worries,” Darcy replies. “I’m too busy digging through – ” she pauses, then shakes her head. “Nope, there’s a firewall there. Heavy duty. It’ll take too long to break through it; I’m definitely going to need to drop a hard line once we’re in the lab. Let’s hope Welter doesn’t recognize me before we get the door locked.”
“Don’t worry,” Natasha replies. “Just keep your face pointed at that pad; I’ll keep his attention on me.”
A few seconds later, they’re approached by a young, dark-skinned man in a lab coat. “Pardon me, Miss Rushman? I’m Danny Beaulieu. Dr. Welter asked me to come and get you and bring you up to the lab.”
Natasha gets to her feet smoothly, smiling, and Darcy follows her lead, still buried in the StarkPad. They take the elevator up, stopping at the twelfth floor, and Beaulieu leads them out and down a hall into a clinical laboratory with the number 42 on the door.
Darcy doesn’t even look around; she’s too busy downloading everything she can from the servers she can access and feeding it all back to JARVIS.
“Dr. Welter,” Beaulieu says, “this is Natalie Rushman and…” he pauses, raising an eyebrow at Natasha.
“My assistant, Desiree Langston,” Natasha says.
“Thank you, Danny. Go check on those readouts, will you?” Welter says without turning around.
Danny nods, turns, and leaves the lab. The door swings gently shut behind him. Darcy moves toward it and silently turns the lock.
“Well, now, Ms. Rushman,” Welter says, putting down whatever he’s working on and turning around, “How can I help – ” his voice trails off when he catches sight of Darcy, and the blood drains from his face. All thoughts of espionage go out the window; the plan changes immediately.
“You’ll be dead before you can scream,” Natasha warns him. “Don’t try it.”
Welter starts to breathe fast. “What are you here for?” he rasps. “I did everything that was asked of me!”
“Just a little information,” Darcy replies. “For example, I want every piece of information that you got from me the last time I was here. Every scan, every measurement, everything.”
“And when you’re done with that,” Natasha says, “you’re going to tell us all about Brock Rumlow and how he got hold of a certain piece of equipment shaped like a chair.” She pauses as Welter goes so pale he almost turns green, and she nods with satisfaction. “I see you know what I’m talking about.”
“I had nothing to do with that!” Welter blurts, realizing that the game, for him, has changed. “I swear it!”
“You had a lot to do with it,” Darcy replies. “You and your lab mate – what’s his name?”
“Thornton!” Welter exclaims. “He’s the one! He’s the one who called Rumlow! It wasn’t me!”
“Yeah, but you didn’t stop him, did you?” Darcy asks softly. “And you didn’t do anything to help me escape, or to hide me, or anything else. In fact, I bet you helped.” She gives him a soft, humorless smile. “You get no sympathy from me, friend; I sat in the chair and they ran electricity through my head and they made me forget who I was. And now I’m going to pay them back. Them and you and everyone else who was involved.” She steps away from the door, moving toward Welter. “Now, I’m going to need a USB connection so I can drop a hard line into your system, I’m going to need passwords, and I’m going to need you sitting right over there with my friend, telling her everything you know before I decide whether or not to skin you alive. Hmm?”
Welter, his finger shaking, points to the nearest bank of computers with a USB dock. Darcy smiles again, pulling a cord out of her pocket, and goes to it. She pops her prosthetic out, connects directly to the Hammer servers, and begins to search, demanding passwords every time she needs one. Welter tries to demur once, but Natasha gives him a little poke with the point of a knife, and he stops demurring.
Darcy digs and digs and digs, streaming information back to JARVIS as fast as she can process it. With Welter’s directions, she navigates to the data that was collected on her, sending it back to JARVIS before nuking it off Hammer’s servers.
Meanwhile, Natasha pulls up a chair and sits down in front of Welter. She begins to ask questions in a quiet and reasonable voice.
“How long have you been part of HYDRA, Dr. Welter?” she asks.
“I’m not! I swear it! I’m AIM-affiliated, that’s all!”
“Mmm,” Natasha hums. “Could be true. You haven’t bitten down on a cyanide pill, after all.” She considers him. “Tell me what happened when my colleague came into your lab the first time.”
Welter pauses, swallows hard, and then sits forward. “It was so strange,” he says, glancing over at Darcy and shuddering at the sight of the cord running into her eye socket before turning back to Natasha. “The strangest thing I think I’ve ever seen. She came waltzing in like she lived here or something; I have no idea how she got in. But she came walking in and said she had hardware in her head and she wanted to know about it, and she was willing to let us copy the designs for ourselves if we’d tell her what it was and how it worked.”
Darcy snorts. “And of course you couldn’t turn that down.”
“Well of course not,” Welter replies in a reasonable tone. “Do you think Stark would, given the opportunity?”
Darcy looks over at him. “Would and did,” she replies simply. “He’s a better person than anyone gives him credit for. He’s certainly a better person than you.” Then she turns back to her work again.
“So tell me what happened after you started running scans,” Natasha says smoothly, taking control of the conversation once more.
“We got about halfway through doing what we were doing,” Welter says, “doing the scans and stuff. And we’d just hit the part where we realized she had the capability to connect to the internet. But then – it was like she went berserk. Screaming something about being disconnected. We tried to calm her down and tell her we thought she could reconnect but she wasn’t hearing it – she just kept screaming what did you do, what did you do over and over. We had to get security to get her into a safe room.”
“You mean a cell,” Darcy corrects.
Welter shrugs. “Call it what you want.”
“Anyway,” Natasha says, redirecting again. “What happened then?”
“Thornton figured out who she was,” Welter replies. “That she was one of the Avengers, I mean. And he said that HYDRA had a standing bounty on any Avenger, but especially her and the guy with the metal arm. So he made some calls, and Rumlow showed up. He took her to Section C. And that’s the last I saw of either of them.”
“What’s Section C?” Natasha demands.
Welter shrugs, gesturing to the hallway. “It’s the other half of this floor,” he says. “It’s off limits to almost everybody; it’s basically top secret.”
Darcy straightens, turning slowly to face Welter. “Are you telling me the chair is here?”
~*~
“It’s here, Chefchen, the chair is here,” Darcy says into the comm. “It’s on the twelfth floor in some top secret area they call Section C.”
“We’re on our way,”James replies. “What’s this doctor’s name?”
“Welter,” Darcy tells him. “He’s not HYDRA, but he’s AIM, and AIM is still working with HYDRA.”
“All right. We’re not wasting time with subterfuge; no need for it since you’ve already sent JARVIS everything there is to send. We’re just coming in the front doors.”
“Sounds good,” Darcy tells him. “ETA?”
“Five minutes,”James replies. “Behave til I get there.”
“Har har,” Darcy replies, and closes the connection. Then she pulls up the CCTV feed from the cameras in the lobby, displaying it on one of the big screens. That done, she disconnects herself from the hard line, wipes the cord clean, and stuffs it back into her pocket before replacing her prosthetic eye. She turns to face Natasha and Welter. “All right,” she says. “We’re going to have company in about five minutes.”
“Oh, good,” Natasha says. “Coming in the front?” she asks, nodding toward the screen.
“Right through the main lobby,” Darcy confirms. “If you’ve got any follow up questions, now’s the time; it’s about to get really exciting around here.”
“No, I think he’s told us everything he knows that’s worth knowing. Between that and whatever we find in Section C, I’m pretty sure we’ll have enough to blow this whole shit shack sky high.” She pauses, then smirks at Welter. “Metaphorically speaking, of course.”
“Of course,” Darcy echoes.
Natasha’s phone rings; she pulls it out, checks the ID, and answers on speakerphone. “Sharon!”
“Hey, Nat,” Sharon’s voice comes through the speaker. “I hear you’ve got more HYDRA for us.”
“Hammer Industries’ Seattle location,” Natasha confirms. “And probably enough evidence to prove the tentacles are all the way through the whole mess.”
“Excellent,” Sharon replies. “I’ll get a team together and we’ll be on the way to do the mopping up.”
“You’re the best,” Natasha tells her and disconnects the call.
Darcy pulls out a pair of handcuffs, snapping one end around Welter’s wrist and the other around a protrusion in the bolted-down computer desk. “There,” she says. “Wouldn’t want you going anywhere before the CIA gets here.”
“Oh, come on!” Welter exclaims. “I told you everything I know! I gave you all the data!”
“You did,” Darcy replies, her expression serious. “And for that we are grateful.”
“Cut me some slack!”
Natasha twitches an eyebrow. “The same kind of slack you cut my colleague when you gave her up to HYDRA?” she asks.
Welter flinches backward. Darcy tilts her head. “Maybe we should take him with us,” she says to Natasha, her eyes never leaving Welter’s face. “Maybe we should show him just exactly what kind of slack he didn’t cut me. Like, we could put him in the chair and see how he likes it.”
“No! Please!” Welter begs, going pale again. “Please, no! I have a family!”
Darcy leans toward him, just a little, and hisses, “So do I. That didn’t stop you.”
Natasha places a hand on Darcy’s shoulder and draws her away. “Don’t lose focus.”
Darcy laughs softly. “Sorry,” she says. “I’m apparently a little angry.”
“And not without cause,” Natasha says. “Just stay focused. Remember the mission. Anger is a liability.”
Darcy nods. Then she bares her teeth. “Гнев оружие твоего врага.”
“Anger is your enemy’s weapon,” Natasha repeats, nodding. “You remember your lessons, anyway.”
“It’s one I learned from you and Yelena,” Darcy says, her grimace modulating into a grin. “You never got angry, but Yelena always did. That’s why you always beat her.”
“Exactly,” Natasha replies. “I don’t know if she ever learned that lesson.”
Darcy shakes her head, then turns back to Welter. “You’re lucky my colleague knows me so well,” she tells him, “because personally, I’d like to have your balls in a jar.”
Movement on the screen catches her attention; she and Natasha both look up in time to see the front doors of the lobby open and the rest of the Avengers, in full costume, come strolling in. Security tries to stop them, but they’re just rent-a-cops, so they don’t try very hard. “Time to move,” Natasha says. She points a finger at Welter. “Don’t go anywhere.”
Darcy and Natasha leave the lab and head down the hallway toward the area known as Section C; the doors are closed and locked but they won’t be any match for James’s metal arm. The two women station themselves just outside the doors, ready and willing to handle anyone who comes out. No one does in the minute or so that it takes for the Avengers to assemble, and James opens the doors by force, just as Darcy had expected.
Alarms go off inside the secure area, but none of the Avengers are paying attention; their focus is completely caught by the huge HYDRA symbol painted on the floor just inside those doors.
~*~
“Well,” Steve says, staring down at the HYDRA logo painted on the floor. “I have to admit that I was not expecting that.”
“Nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition,” Tony replies. “But even less so the giant fucking HYDRA infestation.”
“Sharon’s people are going to have a field day with this,” Sam comments.
Darcy pulls out a handgun and chambers a round. “I’m done standing around,” she says. “Let’s rock and roll.”
They cross the threshold just as several guards come running toward them; the guards go down under the onslaught of shield and repulsors, and the Avengers make their way into the secure area, incapacitating any guards they see that aren’t actively shooting at them. The ones that do make the mistake of shooting don’t make that mistake twice.
The building intercom crackles to life with a voice announcing an intruder alert and a building-wide lockdown. The Avengers ignore this announcement as well as the continued alarms and split up, incapacitating guards and rounding up scientists and technicians as they go. It actually isn’t hard to round up the eggheads; most of them are utterly unused to being on the business end of weaponry and surrender almost immediately.
There are three casualties of cyanide pills. Otherwise, all the personnel seem to be low-level enough that they haven’t been issued the suicide option.
One scientist attempts to inject Natasha with something; he ends up with a broken arm and a cracked sternum (as well as several minutes unconscious and probably a concussion) for his trouble. A technician shouts a list of words at James in Russian, then moans in fear and surrenders when the only thing that happens is that James cocks his head and replies, “What the hell, lady?”
And then Clint finds the chair.
“Target acquired,” he says into his comm. “Back hallway, right hand side. It doesn’t look new, so I’m guessing they found it someplace and brought it here.”
“Great,” Darcy grumbles. “Back on the fucking hunt.”
“Language,” Tony sing-songs, and Steve groans while everyone else laughs. They converge on the room Clint found, and sure enough, there’s the chair and all the affiliated computer equipment.
James shudders softly. “I didn’t think I’d ever have to look at one of those again.”
“With any luck,” Thor says as Darcy rubs James’s back gently, “this will be the last time you must look upon one.”
“All right,” Tony says, and the whine of his repulsor charging up fills the hallway. “I’m blowing that thing straight to hell.”
“Sounds like a good plan,” James says.
Tony enters the room and the others take a step back; a moment full of blue light passes and the chair is reduced to slag and leather bits. Then Natasha enters the room with him and the two of them go to work on the computer.
Sam raises an eyebrow at Darcy. “Still not dealing well with it?” he asks.
Darcy shakes her head. “I can’t even get close to one, much less hook up to it. It’s all right; Natasha’s pretty good with computers if she does say so herself.”
“I heard that,” Natasha calls from inside the room, and Darcy chortles.
“Pretty sure you were meant to,” Clint calls back to her, and Natasha gives them both the finger.
A few minutes later, Tony steps back from the computers and waits for Natasha to leave the room before giving them the same treatment he gave to the chair. The room is full of nothing but the smallest bits of junk when the Avengers leave it – just in time for Natasha to get a call from Sharon, who has led a cohort of FBI and NSA agents into the building.
“Yeah, twelfth floor,” Natasha tells her. “Look for the giant HYDRA logo on the floor.”
A few minutes later, Sharon and the lead FBI agent are standing in front of the giant symbol. “You weren’t kidding,” Sharon says.
“I never kid about HYDRA,” Natasha replies. “Or donuts.”
“She really does not kid about donuts,” Sam agrees.
Thor laughs softly. “Indeed. Natasha is most serious about them.”
“More so even than me,” Tony agrees. “And I am pretty serious about donuts.”
“Are we done with the donuts yet?” James asks. “Because there’s a bunch of HYDRA techs and scientists back here that need to be, you know, arrested.”
Not at all chastened, the Avengers split up again and lead small teams of agents into the rooms where the techs and scientists have been corralled. The arrests in that section begin, and through Sharon’s comms they can hear reports coming in from other agents that have spread through the building: there are more arrests happening in other parts of the building.
“Poor Justin Hammer,” Tony says, patently insincere. “This is really gonna tank his stock prices.”
~*~
April 2014
New York, NY
The party that night in Avengers Tower is a small and exclusive one: Avengers and adjacents only. There is no dark dance floor, only slightly dimmed lights; there is no heavy beat of music, only a hilariously bad movie and the sounds of a group of friends cheerfully heckling it.
There are no crises left to be averted. The raid on Hammer’s Seattle location was so successful that there will probably be more raids on the LA location and possibly, with the help of Interpol, a couple of their factories overseas. These will be led by groups other than the Avengers. Tony is still gloating over the economic ruin of Justin Hammer; the others are mostly just glad to have cut another head off the HYDRA and cauterized the neck.
Darcy is cuddled against James on one of the plush love seats; his arm is around her shoulders, and they’re sharing a bowl of kettle corn. He leans down to drop an absent kiss on the top of her head, and she smiles, tilting her face up for another one. “Another successful venture,” she murmurs.
“Can’t complain,” James replies, nodding. “Well, I can – I could do without this much excitement.”
She laughs softly. “I think we’ve earned some quiet time,” she says. “Want to go on another vacation? I can let you look at me in a bikini some more.”
“кукла,” he says, “I will never turn down the opportunity to look at you in a bikini.”
“Get a room,” Clint commands from the floor in front of them, where he and Steve are sprawled, engaged in a furious tic tac toe tournament on the back of a newspaper.
Darcy leans down and nudges Clint’s foot with her toe. “Don’t be a jerk.”
“Talking over the movie,” Sam complains.
“Sorry,” Clint and Darcy chorus. Darcy snuggles back into James a little tighter, turning her attention to the movie.
Sometime later, she wakes to James shaking her shoulder. “Hey, Darce,” he murmurs. “Let’s go to bed.”
“Yeah,” she mumbles. “Good idea.” She sits up and stretches, reaching for the television remote. The 11:00 news is on, and the announcer is saying something about a new Secretary of State called Ross, but Darcy doesn’t care. She shuts the TV off and stretches again.
The others have mostly scattered; Bruce, who passed on the festivities of the day in favor of not letting the Other Guy run amok in a building full of potential innocents, is asleep in one of the armchairs and Sam is dozing on the couch, but everyone else has gone to their respective places.
James takes Darcy’s hands and pulls her to her feet, wrapping his arm around her as they head toward the elevator. Once inside, she leans against him, closing her eyes again. “Love you, Chefchen,” she murmurs against his shoulder blade.
“Love you too, my кукла,” he murmurs back. He leads her, half-asleep, from the elevator into their apartment and then to their bedroom, where he efficiently strips her down and guides her into the bed. He strips down himself and climbs in on the other side.
She curls up against him, murmuring something softly, and he runs a hand over her hair, shushing her. Once she’s settled, he closes his own eyes, and the moon shines in through the window as they sleep.