Avengers Assemble!
“Avengers assemble!”
Captain America's voice rang clear throughout the compound, echoing down the long, empty hallways and outside to the training grounds, finally dissipating in the mid-summer heat. For a moment, time froze. Then, the facility interrupted into an explosion of sound and activity as hundreds of people simultaneously dropped what they were doing and hurried to their stations.
Steve, meanwhile, pushed himself back from his computer desk with a sigh and crossed the room to don his uniform. Within minutes he was done (a side effect from his days in the war, when the time it took for you to put on your socks could sometimes be the difference between life or death). With little more than a thought, he grabbed his shield from its customary spot beside his bed and exited the room.
He marched down the long white hallways toward the loading bay, S.H.I.E.L.D. agents jogging past every so often. One stopped beside him.
“Captain,” she said tersely, handing him a tablet. He nodded his thanks and took it from her. On it were the details of their mission. Thank you Tony, he thought as he swiped through the pages of information. It was a comprehensive list of targets, mug shots of smugglers and terrorists and other scum of the earth leering back at him; along with shipping reports, reports from both local and international law enforcement agencies, and a comprehensive map of their targeted location.
A few seconds later, Natasha silently fell into step beside him. Soon, Sam joined them, rubbing sleep from his eyes, wing pack already on his back.
“What have we got?” Nat asked tersely.
“Just finished talking with Stark,” Steve responded. “He's been picking up chatter lately of a terrorist group that's come into possession of some dangerous material.”
“Such as...?” Sam asked.
“Vibranium.” Steve answered curtly, handing Nat the tablet to look over, Sam reading over her shoulder.
“The stuff your shield's made out of?”
“And the stuff Ultron was made of.” Nat answered grimly. The look on her face suggested she was familiar with some of the faces on the tablet.
“Which is why we're going in now. Stark's sources say there'll be a drop-off tonight, which we're going to intercept.”
They discussed the mission more as they strode into the facility's loading bay. The hub bustled with activity, agents running here and there, techs operating the controls, and mechanics making last minute adjustments to the Quinjet, which shone brightly in its place of honor in the center of the hub, the whole world revolving around it. Below the jet's left wing, the other Avengers hung around, waiting for more information. Rhodey was running a last-minute check on his suit, guns folding out of it with the signature mechanical whir that came with Stark’s suits. Seemingly displeased with the results, he entered a few commands into a small screen inserted in the left arm, hidden by a panel. He then tested the weapons once more (scaring a few of the less battle-oriented agents) before returning the armor to its original form.
Wanda was fiddling with the many rings that adorned her fingers, looking at the chaos around her with both wonder and fear, flinching when a S.H.I.E.L.D agent bumped into her. Steve could see wisps of red energy beginning to form around her fingertips, but a reassuring smile from Rhodey caused them to dissipate. She was by the far the least experienced of the team by far, with only the few months of training she had received at the facility and whatever training she had done under HYDRA to aid her in battle, though she always came through when she was needed; Steve knew how effective adrenaline could be in the heat of battle, yet still worried that eventually it would not be enough. He also knew how unpredictable Wanda's powers could be, and that one day that could fail her too. But after what happened in Sokovia, she was determined to prove herself to the team; she was an Avenger, just like her brother, and no amount of cajoling would dissuade her.
Then there was the Vision. Steve still had no idea what to think of him. He had certainly proven himself a capable fighter and a worthy ally (he was Mjolnir-certified, after all), but off the battlefield he was an enigma. To call him a friend – or even an acquaintance – would be an extreme. At the compound, he was either using his boundless knowledge to help scientists down in the labs (though they were more interested in studying him, it seemed) or aimlessly wandering the premises, like a ghost without a purpose.
Steve, Nat, and Sam stopped in front of the others and all eyes turned expectantly towards their captain. Nat --thank God for her, Steve would be lost without her -- stepped forward and relayed their mission.
“It's just a simple extraction,” she finished. “We want to keep the fighting to a minimum, avoid civilian casualties. If possible, capture instead of kill; there are gonna be a lot of men there who need to answer for their crimes.”
They all nodded in understanding.
“It'll be a long flight,” Steve added, directed towards Rhodey. Despite the War Machine armor’s many capabilities, an overseas flight was incredibly taxing, on both the suit and Rhodey; there was no need to waste energy before they had even begun fighting. The colonel nodded and boarded the Quinjet with the others. Steve followed, the cargo bay door closing behind him once they were all aboard the carrier.
“Everybody strap in,” Natasha replied from the pilot's seat. “It's gonna be a long ride.” She had a headset on and was busy flipping a multitude of switches.
Outside, the loading was busier than ever. Above, the ceiling parted to reveal the bright blue sky. Steve saw papers go flying and hair whip around agents’ faces as warm wind flooded into the bunker. He took the seat beside Nat as the Quinjet began to ascend into the sky.
“Where exactly are we headed, anyway?” Rhodey asked once they were safely in the air.
Nat moved her arm to show a small screen. On it were a longitude and latitude next to a map of Africa, a red dot glowing in the central part of the continent.
“Wakanda.”