Chapter 15
D i r e c t o r ‘ s O f f i c e [ 1 6 : 3 7 ]
“You’ve pissed off the last person you should have pissed off, do you understand that?” Agent Carter paces around the Director’s office, her words not minced for his benefit. Her restlessness comes across as panic, but Sharon doesn’t panic, not really. This was more of an irritation towards Director Mackenzie - who usually takes criticism from his Agents openly. Unusually, something about the Avenger’s new recruit played on his mind, despite her already being a decorated member of the organisation. That something, was the comment about Phil Coulson, which reopened the wound that he struggles to heal. He misses his mentor dearly, but most importantly, respected his opinion. It now eats away at him that the young woman who challenged him may be right, maybe he’s not cut out for this job.
Despite this, he won’t allow anyone else to see his moment of weakness.
“She was out of line. I won’t tolerate reckless, arrogant behaviour.” His deep gritty voice is raised, but Sharon doesn’t take notice, knowing that his frustration is not aimed towards her.
Her connection to another former teammate of his… It acts as a branding iron that burns a hole through his chest, tightening his lungs and shortening his breaths.
“Mistaking her for being arrogant would be imposturous, Sir. She’s the best tracker we have, or… had, which is also going to make her extremely hard to find.”
“What are you suggesting, Carter?” Mack takes a seat, elbows resting against the mahogany desk, his shaven head encased by clammy palms.
“Nothing.” She shrugs, defensively. “I’m not suggesting anything.”
There’s a pause in the room for a few seconds, Sharon allowing the Director to be with his thoughts.
“What do you know about her relationship with Sergeant Barnes?” He asks, the words mumbled as they’re spoken towards his feet.
“I’m sorry?” Sharon hears them clearly, but asks for him to repeat himself anyway, giving her more time to compile her response.
“Barnes doesn’t give much away about anything, but there was something about the way she was acting earlier.”
“She sympathises with him. They’ve both had bad experiences with Hydra.”
“Haven’t we all?”
Sharon frowns, taken back slightly by the generalisation. She’s always been appreciative of the fact that not everyone at SHIELD has been exposed to Hydra to the same extent, so naturally hopes that the Director’s comment is only due to the anger he’s feeling, causing a momentary lapse of judgement.
“The night you found them, what went down?” He presses for more information, giving Sharon a funny feeling in the pit of her stomach, that this is becoming something way too personal for Mack.
“I told you, it was analytical.” Agent Carter lies through the skin of her teeth, something she didn’t know she was going to do, until she did it. “She wanted to know more about Zemo from Barnes’ perspective; she thought the public setting would make it more comfortable.”
“So she was using him for intel?”
“No, Sir. Sergeant Barnes was very clear about her intent.”
“Which was what, Agent Carter?”
Sharon swallows. This was going to be a long night.
A p a r t m e n t C o m p l e x , T r i b e c a [ 1 8 : 5 2 ]
“Breach, breach!”
The door to her apartment opens as a large boot kicks it in, gaining access to her living space. Every room is searched carefully, followed by calls to give the ‘all clear’.
It was only upon entry to the bedroom that there were signs of the apartment being inhabited, every other room was extremely tidy.
Director Mackenzie steps foot into the bedroom, wanting to scope the apartment out himself. Large hands trace along the furniture, a miniscule amount of dust collecting on his fingers.
“Porter. Does her file say she lives alone?” He asks the nearest agent, Porter, who confirms with a nod.
“CCTV?”
“No, Sir.”
Mack continues to act on his hunch, searching the bedroom a little more, until he finds something to further his suspicion. The bottom drawer of the dresser is almost empty when he opens it, apart from a few articles of clothing and a pair of shoes. After the faint trace of a masculine cologne invades his nostrils, a scent he doesn’t associate with the agent in question, he doesn’t care to inspect the contents of the drawer any further. He kicks it shut when he stands.
Mack now makes his way to the bathroom, looking for more evidence, like a wash bag; a towel; a bottle of cologne that matches the scent from the dresser… As he opened the mirrored cabinet above the sink, two toothbrushes sat next to each other in a pot. One of them has been used more significantly than the other, the latter looking almost new.
“Director, in here.” A voice interrupts Mack, who clears his throat before attending to it.
In the living area, an agent holds up a jacket with one hand, in the Director’s view. Black and leather, not standard SHIELD issue. He grips the jacket, taking it from the Agent, examining it. It’s not her style.
He uses his thumbs to tighten the leather at the seam of each shoulder in turn, sighing and nodding his head. The stitching in the right shoulder is sturdy, but the thread holding the left shoulder together is much looser.
“Sir, we have a location on a laptop.” Porter states from behind, looking at a screen someone has put in front of him.
“Go quietly.” The Director orders Porter and the rest of the team, the jacket clutched in his fist, deciding to keep the information to himself for now. “I’ve got a lead of my own.”
S e w a r d P a r k L i b r a r y , E a s t B r o a d w a y [ 1 9 : 0 6 ]
“I repeat, Task Force Foxtrot, proceed with caution. This is an ex-Agent of SHIELD, she could be armed and dangerous.” Porter speaks over the comms, as the rest of Foxtrot are positioned to breach the Library from both entrances. Members of the public are escorted away from the premises, spilling out onto the street to the south of the building, and the park to the west.
Upon entry, they do not announce themselves, signalling to the librarians to vacate. Task Force Foxtrot searches high and low, each aisle of books scoured for signs, until they reach the exact coordinates of her signal, but not to their surprise, she’s long gone. All that’s left is the laptop they traced here, neatly slotted on a high shelf, protruding slightly from the books at either side.
Porter holds the laptop after retrieval, placing it down on the nearest table, immediately flipping open the lid. A small piece of paper sits on the keyboard, folded in half, and the screen is shattered, a spider's web of broken glass sits in the middle of the blank space.
“Hey, what’s so funny, Porter?” Another agent walks towards the man holding the note, who is now chuckling to himself, looking down at the slip of paper that now rests on the table.
“See for yourself, Horne.” He looks to his colleague, Agent Horne, who has a similar reaction to the note. “Didn’t know we were dealing with a comedian.”
Multiple pairs of eyes cast over the note before the evidence is seized, laptop snapped back shut, along with the note, the Agents returning to their transports as they proceed to return to HQ.
“Director.” Says Porter, reporting back their findings. “She knows we’re looking for her.”
A v e n g e r s C a m p u s [ 0 0 : 3 8 ]
“Bucky?”
“Mhm.”
Sergeant Barnes murmurs in response to his name being called, sprawled out on the couch with his right arm raised to his head, shielding his eyes from the light above him, whilst the left one dangles off the edge.
“Bucky.”
Sam’s boot lightly taps the metal hand that grazes the carpet, a groan coming from Bucky in protest. “What?” He fights the urge to keep his eyes closed, instead, blinking away the cloudiness caused by sleep.
“Get up. Director’s on his way in.”
“‘The hell does he want now?” He squints up at his friend, reluctantly sitting up from the comfort of the couch cushions. He checks his watch, sighing. “Sam, it’s nearly one in the damn morning.”
“You should be in bed anyway, not on the couch. No wonder you’re so grouchy all the time.” Sam passes a steaming espresso cup over to Bucky, who takes it without question.
“Yeah, it’s the couch’s fault…” He mumbles - sarcastically - under his breath, practically throwing the shot of hot coffee into his mouth, flinching at the bitter taste.
Merely minutes later, the Director graced the pair with his presence, clutching a piece of clothing in his hands. Bucky notices his heart rate is slightly elevated. He notices the tension, which in turn, makes Bucky tense.
“Agent Splinter.” Mack states loudly, still walking over to Sam and Bucky. “Mean anything to you?”
“Nice to see you too, Director.” Bucky’s clasped hands rest in between his knees, squeezing them slightly as he tightens his jaw. Mack’s assertiveness is already starting to annoy him.
“Well?” Mack presses, choosing a spot to stand, an even distance away from the two partners.
“Should it?”
“Cut the shit, Barnes.”
“Woah, hang on a second, Mack.” Sam challenges. “Let’s remember that you’re the one barging in here at one a.m., not us.”
He ignores him.
“Splinter, Barnes.”
“No idea.” He answers bluntly, but honestly.
“Bullshit.”
“Back off.” Bucky begins to shuffle around on the couch. He didn’t have the energy to ask what this was about, or to deal with the Director in any way. “I’m going back to sleep.”
The Director tosses the piece of clothing to Bucky, who holds up his arm, catching it on reflex. He lowers the jacket, quickly realising what it was and where it came from.
“Why do you have this?” He sounds threatened, but stands strongly out of his seat to meet the Director where he stands, leaving the jacket on the couch he was resting on.
Bucky takes long, meaningful strides, blowing a deep breath through flared nostrils as he pushes a hand loosely into the Director’s chest. Sam rushes to meet the two clashing men. He lays a hand on Bucky’s shoulder, standing by his side.
“You know where.”
“Cool it.” Sam warns, shoving Bucky back a couple of steps, out of Mack’s face. “Is someone gonna tell me what the problem is here?”
“We’ve got a rogue agent.” The Director explains, eyes wandering down to the frightened ones that belong to Bucky. “Seems like Sergeant Barnes has been getting to know her a little better than the rest of us.”
“You son of a-”
Bucky shrugs off Sam’s hand, lurching forward once more, but is stopped from the contact of Mack’s palm on his chest, extended to stop the soldier from moving any closer.
“Just because everyone else is scared of you, doesn’t mean I am.”
Of course, Bucky is the stronger of the two, but Mack isn’t weak by any means, holding enough power of his own to keep the Soldier at bay. He isn’t the type of director to sit behind his desk and give orders, he’s more than capable of stepping in when required.
“Maybe you should be.” The super soldier rests his hand around Mack’s wrist, straining his neck to the side as he leans into the pressure on his chest, glaring up at his superior. Mack stands tall, easily clearing Bucky in both height and stature, just missing the upper hand that the serum gives to the veteran. Either way, he didn’t flinch when Bucky’s grip landed on his arm.
“Alright, enough!” Sam notices his friend’s vibranium fingers twitching at his side, so decides to interject once more. He doesn’t want Bucky to do anything he’ll regret.
The Director showcases the lack of intimidation through his stone cold expression, which Sam knows that Bucky would try to test if given any more time. The two men share a stern look, before lowering their hands in unison.
“I don’t know what ‘Splinter’ is, or what it has to do with her, so spit it out.”
The Director sighs, running a hand over his head. “After she interrupted our brief whilst Cap was out, I looked at her file again. There was some redacted information, an old code name-”
“She’s Agent Splinter?” Sam asks upon realisation.
“You know of Splinter?”
“I’ve heard whispers, but I thought they were talking about the video game.”
“I think that’s where it came from.”
“Why’d she drop the name?”
“Association. Redacted the same week of her questioning, before she moved to the offices.”
Bucky interrupts, the two men in conversation looking toward him. “Can we just go back to the part where you broke into her apartment?” He’s not impressed with the civilised turn that the conversation has taken, not excepting that the two men don’t feel the same anger he currently feels.
“She handed in her badge. She’s a civilian with access to a lot of SHIELD intel. There are many reasons we need to find her.”
“You think she’s a threat?” Bucky almost laughs, turning his back. He walks back to the couch, collecting his jacket.
“Buck, I think we need to take this seriously...” Sam drawls out, the Sergeant turning slowly towards the Captain. “If you know her, it sounds like you can help.”
“Clearly I don’t know her all that well.” Bucky says bluntly, tucking the leather jacket under his arm.
“Barnes, wait.” Mack states, like he’s losing his patience. “She left this for us to find.” He reaches into his pocket, pulling out his phone, unlocking the screen. “We found it in her laptop, shoved between some books at a library.”
Bucky walked slowly back over to the Director with a sigh, apprehensively taking the device, eyes scanning across the image.
It’s a photo of an evidence bag. Inside it, the note. Bucky reads it, and this time he does laugh. He passes the phone to Sam, still chuckling to himself as he makes his way out of the room.
Sam now looks at the image of the ex-agent’s note, which reads:
‘Catch me if you can.’
“Wait, why was his jacket at her apartment?”
“Jesus, Wilson, take a wild guess.”
…
“Oh for f-”
“Forget it. Let me show you something.”
The pair walk to the nearest conference room, the Captain raising an eyebrow as Mack pulls something up on the big screen. A low quality video with green filtering. Night vision tech.
“This is her footage?”
Mack nods. “From her goggles. The footage was also redacted, along with the codename.”
Sam watches the footage, but struggles to keep up. The image is blurred and grainy from the high volume of movement, but it doesn’t stop him from hearing the audio provided. Haunting screams ring through his ears, which when paired with the hazy look at Agent Splinter’s point of view, Sam finds himself wincing.
“What the…”
“Keep watching.” Mack orders. Sam follows.
The footage stabilises, allowing the picture to clarify. She takes short ragged breaths as the camera points down to her legs, knees bent, a gloved hand rests on her thigh, cladded in tactical gear. As she gains her breath back, she stands straight, turning ninety degrees to the left.
Sam Wilson’s eyes widened at the sight. Multiple bodies strewn all over the room, some slumped against the wall, others sprawled out on the floor, one with limbs pointing in various directions. Agent Splinter bends down towards one of the bodies, blood splattered across their face and trickling from a broken nose. Nimble fingers dipping into a jacket pocket, removing what looks like a hardrive, storing it somewhere off camera.
When she turns away, her reflection is caught in a long mirror, propped up against a wall. The goggles house two, glowing orbs that conceal her eyes. They reflect into the mirror, but not enough to hide her. She stares eerily at her reflection, holding a knife in her hand, releasing it, letting it fall down to the floor beside her.
“Were they Hydra?” Sam asks the Director, considering the brutal way those people were killed.
“Mhm. Mission report states that Ward was supposed to accompany her. He said she was more than capable, opting to keep watch outside.” Mack comments, pausing the footage. “Probably didn’t fancy seeing his buddies getting hacked to death.”
“She did that alone?” Sam turns his head to the man at his side, watching his shoulders rise and fall slowly.
“Hopefully now you understand my predicament, Captain.” Mack begins to pace. “Luckily, her anger was only ever used in the field, always directed towards the likes of Hydra. But if she starts to see us as the enemy, we could have a real mess on our hands, Sam.”
“Look, I don’t know what’s going on between her and Bucky, but we need to keep him out of this. She clearly did not like the idea of him being used to find Zemo.”
“If the combat drug that Zemo’s looking for is really out there, we can’t afford to bench him. We need his help.”
Sam Wilson swallows, closing his eyes for a brief moment, starting to worry about the mess his friend may have gotten himself into.
“Well, we’re gonna have to get ready for a fight.”