Technically... You're Dead
“Yeah… yeah, you’re that Falcon guy, and you’re the Black Widow. You two work with Captain America!”
“Technically we all do,” Clint mumbled.
Ren was praising the powers that be that one of the cops recognized Sam and Natasha. Although, like Clint, her ego was only slightly wounded that they were overlooked.
Nonetheless, half the teams' celebrity status saved their asses - being covered in blood was a lot more acceptable when you were one of the good guys. They figured a shower and a change of clothes would have to come before a meal even though everyone was starving.
Their next stop was the Ladybird Bed and Breakfast. The poor woman behind the desk looked just as frightened as the people in the diner. Clint was the one to approach her, after digging a credit card out from a pocket in his quiver. “Hey, we’re the, uh, Avengers,” He said somewhat awkwardly, “I think our friend called ahead and made a reservation,”
“Oh… oh yes, um, The Avengers.” She tapped a few keys on her desktop and took Clint's card. She paused and looked back at them, “Hey, weren’t you guys in New York? Y’know with all the aliens,”
Some head nodding a mumbled confirmation, “I thought Captain America was one of you guys? And Tony Stark, God rest his soul,”
“Yeah, we get that a lot,” Ren responded.
…
A shower, a meal, and a good night’s rest had most of the team ready to head home. A call from Fury about another mission had everyone packing. Everyone except for Ren, who 1) Didn’t take orders from the one-eyed asshole, and 2) Had spent the morning watching the news.
There had been an explosion in a small town in Tennessee, not too far from where they were. By all accounts, it was similar to the ones the Mandarin had taken credit for, except for the fact that there were some weird claims from the locals. Despite all the strange coincidences the rest of the team wasn’t on board to check it out. Sam had no connection to Tony, he’d never really met the guy. Nat and Clint were more loyal to Fury than anything, and they had a good reason to keep chasing Hydra.
But Ren was too caught on this lead. Maybe it was those old journalist instincts, but she knew she had to find out more.
…
About 3 hours on a bus got her to her destination. Rosehill, Tennessee looked like it had once been a real quaint little town. Until half of it had been blown up. There were the littered remains of a water tower, a bar, a diner, and some other buildings.
There had actually been two incidents, the explosion at the aforementioned diner, and the downed water tower. No one knew how the second happened. From what she could gather from the police report, and her own investigation of the scene; one of the tower's legs had been melted, causing it to collapse. That would’ve taken an incredible amount of heat though. The type you would need professional welding equipment for, and there was hardly anywhere to set that sort of thing up. There weren’t any cameras or eyewitness accounts so the water tower would remain a mystery for now.
The now demolished diner was less mysterious. A fight had started at the bar across the street and later migrated to the diner. Ren was able to get some concrete facts down;
- It had been a busy night at the bar
- A fight had started between two out-of-towners
- Mrs. Davis was involved
- One out-of-towner was talking to Mrs. Davis
- The other was a redhead woman
- Shots were fired
- Neither parties were anywhere to be found
The rest of what she gathered was pretty interesting but less certain. Some people heard the redhead say she was Homeland Security, others swore the man was FBI. One person even claimed the diner explosion was staged to cover up health code violations. Somehow, Ren didn’t find that convincing. The bullet holes in the surrounding building especially disproved the last theory.
One guy… One guy swore that the unidentified man was Tony Stark.
But there were two more things she knew for sure. The first, whoever the redheaded woman was, she had abilities that involved heat. Fire, maybe, but from what she got from the witnesses and grainy security footage… the woman's abilities seemed similar to her own. While it seemed like she might’ve been the bad guy, Ren kinda hoped she could meet her.
Personal thoughts aside, the second and final fact was even more interesting. And relevant. The woman that the strange man was talking to - Mrs. Davis - she used to have a son. His name had been Chad Davis. He blew himself up. Tragic, of course, especially since he wasn’t the only one who died. But even more interesting, they couldn’t find any trace of a bomb or his body. She was no bomb expert, but that was not normal.
…
Sat on the shitty motel couch, Ren had her laptop out and earbuds in. God, she was spending a lot of time in motels since becoming an Avenger.
The stale cigarette and general ‘old’ smell was starting to become familiar. Springy, creaky beds with thin sheets were the norm, and she was almost able to tune out the noises her neighbors made.
Ambiance aside she wasn’t doing too bad. Curled up on the floral couch she skimmed through old news articles and police reports about the local explosion. Again, not a bomb expert, but the evidence was hard to ignore and the dots weren’t difficult to connect. It was farther back and he hadn’t taken credit, but this incident seemed to match the other explosions caused by the Mandarin.
Ren was right.
This was connected to the man who had killed Tony.
… Supposedly killed Tony. All of a sudden, that one witness sounded a little more sane. Not to mention, destroying half a town when he was supposed to be a corpse in the ocean somewhere sounded very much like someone she knew.
The rest of the team would tell her she was grasping at straws, but Ren couldn’t help but hope. Tony could still be alive.
And if he was, he had been here in Rosehill most likely looking into the same thing. If that was true then she was going to trace his steps. That took her to Mrs. Davis.
…
The chipped paint on the front door tickled her nose as it slammed in her face. Mrs. Davis had not been the most willing informant. All she had given her was that she was in fact Mrs. Davis, yes, she was Chad Davis’ mother, and a hesitant yes that she had been at the bar the other night. When asked about the man from the bar and what they talked about…
“That man told me exactly what I already knew,” The blonde woman declared, “My son didn’t kill himself,”
Then the door had narrowly missed her face.
On to the next stop then. In her research, she had found that the site of the explosion was untouched and had been turned into a memorial for the victims. It was only a few blocks away from the older woman's house.
It was also incredibly depressing. A burnt-out shell-of-a-place with some flowers. Oh, and the blast shadows of the people who died. Not eery at all. The only person who didn’t have a shadow was Chad Davis.
“Why is everyone interested in the shadows all of a sudden?” Asked a voice from behind her.
Ren spun around to find no one until she looked down. A blond kid, he must’ve been in middle school, stood behind her. “Who else was interested in the shadows?”
The kid looked at her before shrugging with an impish look. She angled her head in her best ‘stern adult’ impression. The kid angled his head back. A brief staredown ensued.
She broke first and reached into her pocket, “I’ll give you 20 bucks to tell me,”
He reached out his hand, the oversize coat making it look comically small. After of moment of deliberation she handed the bill over.
“He didn’t want me to tell anyone,” The kid said.
Now Ren glared, “Seriously kid?”
“Hey, my name’s Harley,”
“Seriously Harley?”
The kid - Harley - shrugged again, “He called himself the mechanic, and he was a lot nicer than you,”
She opened her mouth to ask him more, but the kid had already turned and began walking away. Normally she would’ve chased after him to get more answers. But something told her the little shit would start yelling and get her in trouble.
He was a funny little con artist. As she continued to investigate the old blast site she kept thinking about their conversation. The Mechanic. An odd nickname, a little inauspicious, but it could be promising.
Boots crunching on the snow she walked back to the main road, mentally compiling a list of things to look into when she got back to her motel. This Mechanic certainly, the nature of the other Mandarin attacks, and maybe look into Chad Davis’ personal history.
Her train of thought was inurrupted by a ringing. She was so lost in thought that it took a dirty look from a woman passing by for her to realise it was her own phone.
“What's up?”
“Your presence has been requested back at the tower Miss Wright,”
“JARVIS?” The caller ID had said it was Nat.
“Yes ma’am, Miss Romanov had asked me to ask you to return,”
“Did she say why?”
The electronic voice hesitated, which was odd for him, “It might have something to do with our new arrival,”
At the tower? It couldn’t be Stark, JARVIS would’ve said that, but who could be important enough for Nat to ask her to come back. And apparently bring Nat back, since she was supposed to be on a mission right now.
A light tapping on her left shoulder pulled her focus away from the phonecall and the mysterious guest. Beside her stood an old man. His hair was entirely white and he sported some dark aviator sunglasses and an impressive mustache.
“Excuse me,” He asked, “Do you know which direction Dollywood is?”