Chapter 11
The next day left them with no more answers than the previous evening had before.
“Killian’s gone to ground,” Sharon announced to the room full of agents. She had pulled together SHIELD’s resources the night before and was debriefing them on the situation as it stood. “We are in the process of working with the FBI to get his assets frozen, and shut down all of their offices both in the US and abroad, but given the holiday few of AIM’s employees were actually even there in the first place. Even if they knew where he was at, which is doubtful, we have to track them down one-by-one. We are currently looking through the financials to see what he’s got hidden away and see if we can track him there.”
Peggy listened to the debrief with half-an-ear having discussed much of it with Sharon earlier that morning. She instead kept an eye on the phone in front of her, cursing it for not updating her on information faster. It was strange, only three years ago, when she had seen these nearly ubiquitous devices for the first time, she had found them to be magic, nearly unbelievable in the hands of Scott Lang as he sat in the diner with her in 1948 New York. Now, after living with one her entire time in the future, she was so used to having the readily available stream of information at her fingertips that she felt frustrated that she had yet to hear from anyone about anything yet this morning. It was well into afternoon at Stark Tower, she should have some sort of update!
“You all will be tasked with sifting through whatever leads we got on Killian.” Sharon waved at the monitor on the far wall of the briefing room, filled with what data they had. “I want you combing everything: his companies’ website, his social media presence, places he’s visited in the last three months. Does he have a girlfriend? A boyfriend? Both? Follow up on it! Any one of these could be a place he’s hiding at. Check out any and all overseas assets, places where AIM has offices, maybe the homes of friends and acquaintances. Turn over every rock you find.”
A hand went up in the middle of the room from a very serious looking female agent, furiously taking notes. Sharon spotted it, pointing her out. “Yes, Agent…I’m sorry, still learning names in this office.”
“LaTesha Adams,” she replied, giving a polite nod at Sharon's apology. “You mentioned that Killian has created this Mandarin persona, that none of that is real. What about the Ten Rings? Are they a threat or not?”
“Good question, and no, at this time, we don’t believe they are. Our intelligence indicates that the Ten Rings is a very real terrorist organization. You may recall their involvement in the Tony Stark affair a few years ago, but they are not currently tied to this Mandarin figure. If they are linked to Killian, it is likely tangentially at best, and we should consider them a low priority threat for the moment.”
The young woman nodded her dark head as on the other side of the room from her another agent, who had introduced himself as Tom Bogany, held up his hand, waiting for Sharon to call on him. “What is Killian’s connection to Stark? Why in the world would he target an Avenger so blatantly?”
That, too, was also a good question. Sharon glanced at Peggy, who took up the lead on answering the agent. “There doesn’t seem to be much of a hard and fast connection to Stark, mostly superficial at best. They work in the same circles, and he apparently knew Pepper Potts many years ago, but again, mostly as industry acquaintances. We do know Killian approached Miss Potts in the hopes of getting Stark Industries assistance and cooperation. His targeting of Stark seems to be more of a reaction to Stark’s challenge to this Mandarin figure, a means by which Killian can gig up fears and anxiety and push the military establishment his way.”
“So will the Avengers have a response,” pressed the agent.
Peggy took a deep breath, plastered on what she hoped was a reassuring smile and nodded. “I am sure there will be one once we have more information. Right now, we don’t even know where we are looking.”
“Which is why we have no time to waste,” Sharon cut in, commandingly. “Killian is our prime suspect, as well as this man.”
She reached behind her to tap the large display screen in the wall. Up popped an image from a surveillance camera of a smirking man; white, average height, lean in an athletic way, but not lanky, his hair shorn close to his scalp, his expression diffident at best in his rather unassuming suit. “This image was pulled from the Stark Industries security servers. His name is Eric Savin, he was seen in Killian’s entourage last week. He showed up again later that night in the security footage from the Hollywood and Highland shopping center.”
Another image appeared of Savin, walking across the very same plaza that exploded not long after, still dressed in the same suit he had been wearing earlier that day. The various agents took notes as Sharon pulled up still another image, this time from a grainy video from months ago. “This last image from the London bombing, taken from the MST Pharmaceutical surveillance cameras. Savin is former US Army, where he reached the rank of lieutenant colonel before he was injured, losing a leg. He is very much in the mold of most of Killian’s recruits, career soldiers who faced injury and saw Killian as a way of getting back what they lost. Dr. Hansen has confirmed that Savin serves as Killian’s errand boy, and that he is responsible for the dirty work of covering up AIM’s activities, including the truth about the subjects who died due to the serum.”
Many of the agents shifted uncomfortably, squeamish looks flickering here and there. Peggy didn’t blame them. It was a horrific way to die.
“Savin’s whereabouts are unknown.” Sharon’s teeth practically gritted at that. “I’ve also included in your dossiers other known individuals who have ties to Killian and who are likely working for him. Given they are all participants in AIM’s Extremis project, it goes without saying that you should approach them with extreme caution. All are military trained and every one of them has that serum. Should you engage, try to stay out of their way and keep them away from areas of high civilian concentration. I think we can all agree that Killian does not put a high premium on the lives of innocent people caught in the crossfire.”
Someone in the back of the room piped up. “Is there any way to, I don’t know, counteract it? Something to cool them off before they go thermonuclear?”
Sharon solemnly shook her head. “Not at this time. Right now, Dr. Hansen is working with Dr. Ross from the Avengers to see what they might be able to come up with, but the only person who knew how to fix the problem was, ironically, Tony Stark.” Her frown flickered to Peggy again. “Director Carter’s team is working on locating him.”
Peggy grimaced. "When I know something, so will you.”
“Right,” Sharon huffed, turning to the group. “You have your assignments. I expect updates every hour. When you know something, you let the team know.”
Murmured noises of assent rose as the various individuals stood, gathered their things, collecting in clumps as they moved out of the assembly room and muttered between themselves. Sharon watched them silently, waiting till it was just her and Peggy before she let her shoulders slump in exhaustion. “Did you sleep at all last night?”
“Some,” Peggy admitted, having crashed in her lonely hotel room, finally. She hadn’t asked, but guessed that Sharon had bunked up with Jake Jameson, if she had slept at all. Looking at the deep circles under her eyes didn’t look like it. “We will find him.”
“Before or after we have another explosion or he gets desperate?” Sharon’s responding smirk was grim. “He’s on to the fact we know who he is and what is going on, hence why he’s hiding. That makes him dangerous.”
“I know.” One would need to be blind to see the tension that now lay in the investigation. Not that something the magnitude of what they had been investigating didn’t carry with it a weight, but knowing the level of unpredictability, both in Killian and his objectives and in the subjects carrying the Extremis serum, meant the already tremendous pressure had amped up considerably. There was no intelligence on Killian and his team, no pattern they could follow, no political objectives or a manifesto to help define who and where they would strike next. Aldrich Killian was everything Tony Stark feared to be; a powerful man with an arsenal of very deadly weapons of his own creation which he was employing to make the world powers do exactly what he wanted just because he could.
“Any word from Banner this morning?” There was no missing the hopeful note in Sharon’s voice.
“Not yet, but I was going to call him after this, see what he and JARVIS were able to pull together. So far, no word from Stark, not that I expected any.” Peggy was simultaneously annoyed and worried. That Stark could manage himself just fine was without question, but that he felt he had to irritated her as much as it saddened her. Team playing had never been his forte, that she understood, but to go into something like this alone, without his team, when he didn’t have to…she had hoped that after New York he had begun to open up to the idea of no longer being a one man show. She supposed that old habits die hard, even for someone as forward thinking as Tony.
“How’s Pepper doing?”
“As well as anyone could be in the middle of this.” Pepper Potts, Peggy decided, would have made an amazing director of SHIELD. “Her detail said she spent time this morning out at the mansion meeting with teams from SI and the Department of Damage Control to begin excavation. I imagine she will be there most of the day and they are under orders to stay with her till Killian is apprehended.”
“Good, the last thing we need is for the head of Stark Industries and the girlfriend of Tony Stark to become the next target.” The very idea of it seemed to give Sharon a headache. “Everett Ross called earlier. The CIA feels as if they are getting shut out of this and are pissed about it.”
The continuous politicking around tragedy and destruction by agencies whose first priority should have been intelligence and protection was mind-blowing to Peggy. “They are the ones who dropped the ball and turfed it to SHIELD!”
“I know, but now the attacks are on US soil and they are trying to save face with the Senate Intelligence Committee, and if we aren’t careful, this case will be caught in the middle.” She exhaled, a long puff of air as she scrubbed her eyes. “So, yeah, as if this wasn’t already complicated enough.”
Had she stayed in 1949 and gone on to lead SHIELD through the difficult decades of the Cold War as she might have done in a different timeline, this too would have be Peggy’s life, balancing the needs of the immediate threat against those of the political machine that pulled the strings. “So what do they want, to be looped in now?”
“With the threat Killian is posing, how could we not? This is the height of holiday travel season, people are on the move, including the President, who is returning from overseas to be with his family for the holidays. They will have to take precautions to ensure his security. I had to tell them something, if nothing else just to protect the general public.”
“Will the CIA go public with the truth about the Mandarin?”
“No, not until Killian is secured. They will keep the story contained for now as it keeps everyone focused on this so-called 'Mandarin' and out of the way while we search for Killian. They are pulling Rhodes off of his assignment in Afghanistan, though. He was sent to hunt down the Ten Rings and the Mandarin, but as there is no point now he’s being called home.”
“It’s a pity we can’t call him in to help with the search for Stark.” Peggy sighed, gathering her things as she stood.
“Yeah, well given the reception from the American military and intelligence establishment, I think they are treating this as a SHIELD and Avengers problem.” Sharon’s expression was apologetic. “A strange take to have when SHIELD is literally the group saving their asses in this, but…”
“But it’s the political landscape we are in,” Peggy finished, tiredly, understanding completely, even if she didn’t like it. “Well, with that, I suppose I better go find my missing man and hope he leads us to where Killian might be found.”
“Let me know what you find,” Sharon called as Peggy made her way out of the large room, down the hallway to a small lounge area. It was hardly more than a few couches, a table and some chairs, and a small counter with snacks, tea and coffee, and a refrigerator for drinks, but it was quiet at the moment. Peggy was already dialing the number for Banner in New York before she managed to settle herself in one of the seats at the rather basic table.
“I was just going to call you,” Banner answered without so much as a preamble. “We think Tony is in a place called Rose Hills, Tennessee.”
It was a random enough answer to catch Peggy short. “I’m sorry, where?”
“It’s a small town in southeastern Tennessee, not far from Georgia.”
“Why there?” Peggy scrambled, trying to understand what, if anything, they had unearthed about AIM and Killian in the last twenty-four hours tied him to Tennessee.
“If I may,” the smooth voice of JARVIS cut in, politely. “As I explained to Dr. Banner, Mr. Stark was already researching evidence from the bombing site in Hollywood when he was attacked. Evidence from the scene included military dog tags for a soldier named Jack Taggert who happened to serve in the US Army alongside Chad Davis, a resident of Rose Hills.”
“And as it turns out,” Banner took back the reins of the conversation deftly, “Chad Davis died a year ago in what the local papers dubbed a PTSD suicide bombing. Apparently he blew up the auto repair shop he worked at, killing himself along with five others. Descriptions of the scene in the papers there match what you, Sharon and Jake described in Hollywood, down to the ‘shadows’ on the wall.”
“Bloody hell,” Peggy sighed, rubbing fretfully at the bridge of her nose as she absorbed this new information. “How come this wasn’t on anyone’s radar?”
“My guess, local authorities likely figured they had a ready answer in the PTSD narrative and didn’t really look beyond that. I mean, he was former Army, did several tours in Iraq and Afghanistan, and was living at home with his mother at the time of the explosion. It’s a tragic bow to tie on it, but it’s a neat one.”
Peggy had to admit it was, and it certainly made more sense than the actual truth did. “So it stayed off of everyone’s radar and no one thought to question it.”
“There were two other sites that Mr. Stark investigated as well,” JARVIS added. “San Rafael, California and Springfield, Missouri, both having thermogenic occurrences within the last year exceeding 870 degrees Celsius and no known Mandarin attacks. Neither of those occurrences had a thermogenic signature as high as what was seen in either the Hollywood or London bombings, but when comparing to the information provided by Dr. Hansen, it appears those might also have been instances of Extremis patients overheating.”
The way the AI said it one would have expected them to be discussing a problematic car radiator, not a human being. “Why was the thermogenic signature not as high there?”
“Could have been any number of factors,” Banner suggested, thoughtfully. “Both occurrences were at night, so they may have been asleep when they overheated, or it happened so fast they couldn’t allow for a build up. Like Chad Davis, the local authorities explained them away, one as a house fire, the other as a gas explosion. They were tragic, but everyday occurrences.”
Tragic...everyday...occurrences...
Peggy felt herself snap, the reasonableness of his tome somehow failing to underscore the horror of what happened. “These were human beings, Bruce, not just…everyday occurrences! They were people who took an imperfect serum in good faith, thinking they were giving themselves a second chance, and it has turned them into…”
She trailed off, as the rational side of her brain kicked her, hard, and reminded herself just who she was talking to.
“Monsters,” Bruce finished, quietly, with far more grace than Peggy deserved. “You don’t think I don’t know that, Peggy? I’m the one guy who does get what that is like, the only difference is that it doesn’t kill me in the end.”
Peggy couldn’t feel like more of a heel if she tried. “Bruce, I’m sorry,” she began.
“No, I get it, no matter how you slice it, what's happening to these people is a horror show, not to mention the stakes of what happens when they can't control it. And, hey, it’s hardly how any of us expected to spend our Christmas, dealing with this.”
Bruce Banner was far too gracious for words.
With a deep breath, she picked herself up and continued. “So, Rose Hills? You think Tony is there?”
“Well, JARVIS says he was working on a flight plan for Tony’s current suit when Maya Hansen showed up, so I am guessing that’s likely where he went. Whether or not he stayed there, that’s another question.”
“Well, then, let’s at least start our search there. Have Cassandra requisition a quinjet for you and Thor. I will meet you two in Rose Hills, then.”
“You sure you want to bring me out in the field like that?” There was a thread of nervousness in Banner’s question. “I mean, Rose Hills isn’t precisely a big city. If things get out of hand…”
“We will have Thor there with us, just in case.” Peggy assured him. “Besides, if we happen to run into any of these Extremis soldiers, the pair of you are better equipped in holding them off than I am.”
“Fair,” he acknowledged, though he didn’t sound completely convinced. “I’ll get on that, then. You want Betty to keep working remotely with Hansen?”
“We don’t know how many of these other soldiers are out there, the sooner we can neutralize them, the better.”
“Got it…it’s just, you know, she’s good at calming the other guy down. She always has been.”
“I know.” It was a gamble, and he did have a point. Whatever the state of Banner and Betty’s relationship was now, clearly the Hulk side of his personality trusted her. “Maybe she should come along, then? She could be on call if Maya needs assistance.”
“I know it sounds dumb, but…”
“It doesn’t,” Peggy rushed to assure the other man. “It..it’s thoughtful, actually, planning ahead.” She bit her lip, considering her earlier, rash words. “Bruce, you know, what I said earlier…”
“Forget it,” he cut her off, and she could almost see him on the other end of the line, shrugging it off as he busied himself with whatever was in front of him. “I don’t know, it’s kind of a complement, I guess. Means you don’t tend to look at me as a monster.”
“I don’t,” she assured him, quickly. “I don’t know, I don’t think there is any part of you that is. For all of the out-of-control tendencies of your other half, I don’t think he really wants to hurt anyone. He’s…kind of a protector, I suppose.”
On the other end of the line she could hear a soft huff and a quiet chuckle from Banner. “You know, Tony said the same thing about him, too. It’s hard to think of him…of me…like that, not after some of the things that have happened.”
“Something you should think about, maybe, especially given these Extremis cases and how they’ve been employed.”
“Maybe,” he returned, still sounding somewhat doubtful. “Anyway, I better get Cassie to find us a quinjet to get us to Tennessee. I’ll let you know when what our estimated take off and ETA is so we can coordinate meeting up.”
“I’ll let Jake know and will see you all there.”
“See you soon!” He signed off as they both dropped the call. For the first time in twenty-four hours, relief finally threaded through Peggy, knowing that Stark at least was potentially alive and well, if far from destruction and worry he had left behind in Malibu. Once they finally did catch up to him, she might just actually have to throttle him! Not murder him! No, she would need to allow Pepper to have her shot at him. After having their house exploding around her, only to be left in uncertainty and fear as to Stark's fate, she deserved a chance to have a go at him.
With that, she dialed the other woman’s number, waiting for her to pick up from the ruins of her house, clinging to the cliffs of Point Dume. “Pepper, it’s Peggy. Good news! I think we figured out where Tony went…”