Chapter 17
“Deadpool thought our best bet would be to rescue the operatives on the inside,” Steve says. “They’ll be able to give us more details.”
“We can’t do this in pieces,” Tony insists. “Hammer’s been to a couple of those fights. Clint told you Peter was there, and we have to get him out.”
Steve sighs. “We’re talking to Fury in a few hours. It has to be delicate, whatever it is. It won’t be instant and we might just have to take steps.”
“I know,” Tony says through gritted teeth. “But every time Hammer tells me that my kid was there, fighting…” he trails off, and Steve can practically hear him working his jaw through the phone. “And he never tells me how he looks or if he’s hurt, so I know he is.”
“Peter’s fine,” Steve assures him. “As fine as he can be. Clint told me he looks like he’s being fed and he doesn’t move like he’s injured.” Steve doesn’t mention the shifty way Clint delivered the news, only detectable by virtue of the fact that Steve has known Clint for years. Clint isn’t telling him something. “He has to be fine,” Steve adds, more for himself than anything.
The words hang on the line for a moment before Tony answers, his tone clipped and hurting, “just don’t walk out of that meeting without a promise from Fury. We are getting our son back.”
There’s a click as Tony hangs up, and Steve lets his phone fall to his side.
“You ready?” Clint asks, walking up next to him. He, Wanda, and Pietro are all sporting thick files, Steve has one of his own tucked under his other arm.
He pockets his phone and replies, “born ready.”
Clint raises a fist between Wanda and Pietro. The three of them say, “Dream Team,” at the same time. It’s something they’ve done ever since Clint was training the two of them. Steve doesn’t know Wanda and Pietro particularly well, but from working with them, he’s grown to respect the siblings.
“Nick Fury will see you now,” the receptionist says, interrupting the rituals. The four of them share a look before Steve strides up to the door, holding it open and allowing the others to file through before stepping through himself. The door swings shut behind him.