Chapter 18
Whatever it was Peggy had expected, it wasn’t the sight of the Mandarin snoring lightly in the leather reclining chair, an open can of beer resting in his hand on his chest.
“What the hell is this,” Rhodes spoke the question that had been on Peggy’s lips as they all crowded into the dank room around the sleeping man, slumbering to the dulcet sounds of a football match on the television.
“Yeah, I got no words, either,” Stark sighed, kicking the bottom of the recliner hard enough to jerk the so-called Mandarin awake. “Wake up.”
“What the hell? What the bloody hell?” He blinked at all of them, expression taut in surprise, before falling on Stark and recognition dawning. “Oh! Hello!”
“Hello my ass,” Stark grumbled as the Mandarin shrugged and pulled from his beer, earning the wrath of Rhodes, who grabbed it from his stunned grasp. Rhodes had purloined gun Peggy had gained from her attacker in his hand, aimed on the rather quiescent idiot. “You move, I break your face!”
This Mandarin stared down the barrel of Rhodes’ gun, blinking helplessly. “I never thought people had been hurt. They lied to me.”
“Who lied to you,” Peggy pressed, studying this hapless figure and seeing in him the same one who had appeared in all the videos, but neither looking or sounding like the figure who had been terrorizing people through his video feeds for weeks.
“Killian, he lied. He said we were doing some viral marketing!”
Rhodes turned to glare, disbelieving, at Stark. “This is the Mandarin?”
“Yeah, I know, it’s embarrassing,” Stark sighed, throwing up his hands.
“Hi, I’m Trevor, Trevor Slattery.” He held out his hand to Rhodes, who batted it away, pressing his muzzle closer to the hapless Slattery’s face. “I know I’m shorter in person, a bit smaller, everyone says it. But hey, if you’re here to arrest me, there’s some people I’d like to roll on.”
Rhodes rolled his eyes in disgust, passing the can of beer back to Thor, who took it curiously, studied it, and downed it handily before crushing the can, looking for a place to deposit it, and coming up empty. “Do you have a trash receptacle?”
“Errr…no mate,” this Slattery fellow replied, staring askance at Thor, who shrugged and politely placed it on an end table covered with other cans, empty plastic cups, and cigarette butts. “Just downing another man’s beer like that?”
Thor frowned, sensing some sort of faux paux in the room. “Well, it’s clear you won’t have a use for it, and it seems senseless to allow a perfectly good beer to go to waste, and I was parched after the battle out in front of the house.” He paused, considering. “Well, perhaps it wasn’t a good beer, certainly not one of those, but adequate for taking the thirst off.”
Stark rolled his eyes heaven word, already completely through with this entire situation. “Yeah, so as we all know already, Sir Laurence Oblivier here is not some Afghan warlord. He is in fact one Trevor Slattery, I am guessing a sometimes actor and general deadbeat of the London stage.”
Surprisingly, this did not sit well with the strange man with his ridiculous top-knot of hair. “I will have you know that I was considered the most promising up-and-comer on the London stage in 1981. And you know, my King Leer was the toast of Croydon! Critics couldn’t stop raving about it, got a write up in all the papers.”
Peggy snorted. “You do realize being the toast of Croydon is not the compliment you apparently seem to think that it is.”
Now more fully awake and clearly feeling a bit indignant, Slattery looked Peggy up and down with a hauteur fit for a West End stage. “And where do you get off looking down on Croydon, so high-and-mighty?”
“Are you even from Croydon,” Stark snorted, doubtfully.
“He’s from Liverpool,” Peggy answered for him, much to Slattery’s clear surprise.
“How did you suss that out,” he yelped, jerking and meeting the business end of Rhodes’ gun. He shrank back at Rhodes’ scowl.
“The match,” Peggy responded, pointing towards the flatscreen across the room, "one of the teams is Liverpool. Also your Scouse accent you try desperately to hide, but fail to. Gave it all away.”
“Fail? I trained for years with the best dialect coaches, ones who worked with only the best! I spent a whole afternoon with the woman who helped Jonathan Pryce get rid of his Welsh accent.”
“Well, clearly you need to ask for a refund,” Stark quipped, darkly, already over the conversation. “Here’s how it works, Meryl Streep, you tell us where Pepper is and he will stop doing that.”
Slattery’s haggard face frowned in confusion. “Doing what?”
Rhodes jammed his weapon close to the man’s ear, presumably hard, causing him to yelp. “All right, all right, I got it. I don’t know about any pepper, but I do know about the plan.”
“Spill,” Stark ordered.
“Do you know what they did to my suit,” Rhodes added.
Slattery’s eyes rolled between Stark and Rhodes. “What, no! But I do know it’s happening off the coast. Something to do with a big boat? I can take you there.”
No sooner than he made the offer, however, then his expression widened, glued to the television in jubilation! “Woah! Olè, olè, olè, olè!”
Rhodes, who jumped a mile at Trevor Slattery’s antics, turned to Stark in angry desperation. “Tony, I swear to God, I’m going to blow his face off.”
Tony looked to Peggy who could only disappoint the pair of them. “SHIELD is going to want him alive.”
“I can still shoot him and keep him alive,” Rhodes muttered, sulkily.
Slattery was oblivious to this. “Oh, and the next bit may include the vice president as well. Is that important?”
“Jesus,” Rhodes swore, lowering his gun and waving at Thor. “If he moves, throw your hammer or shoot him with lightning or something.”
“Gladly,” Thor glowered over Trevor Slattery, who sank into the deep leather of his reclining chair, making it creak as he attempted to make himself look smaller. Carefully, as if afraid of angering a large dog, he reached slowly down beside him to a small stockpile of beers sitting on the floor beside his chair, pulling one up to hand it to Thor.
“Can we have an aside for a second,” Rhodes asked, pulling Stark over to the other end of the room filled with production materials, graffiti paintings, and at least one water pipe that Peggy could guess was used for something other than tobacco. “You too, Carter.”
Peggy followed in the wake of the other two, leaving Slattery to the care of Thor and Jake, the latter of whom looked as if he’d rather set fire to the house and cleanse the earth of it, the former who was inquiring on if this was in fact some sort of house of courtesans.
“This is the guy who has been terrorizing the world for the last few months?” Rhodes spun on them both in a quiet hiss.
“Yep,” Stark shot back, glancing back at the farce going on behind them. “Honestly, I’d let you have at him, but Peggy’s right. We want the guy at the top of this, and that’s Killian.”
“Yeah, well he didn’t precisely give us a lot to go on. Some boat off the coast of Miami? Do you know how many ships come in and out of here?”
“He did say he could show it to us,” Stark offered.
“The only thing that guy is showing us is another can of beer,” Rhodes muttered, nodding over to where he sat, happily discussing his favorite types with Thor.
“Right…” Stark turned to face Slattery once again. “Hey, Ringo! Didn’t you say you have a speedboat?”
“Errr…” The actor paused so long, Peggy worried his attention got taken by the match once again. “Yes.”
“Where’s it at?”
He waved an arm in the direction of the back of the house. “Boathouse, out back, down by the pier on the back of the property, can’t miss it.”
Peggy shook her head in awe that this man could remember he had a boat on the property but not the basic information of Killian’s plan. “A boat is going to do you no good if you don’t have a location to go to.”
“Nav computer,” Stark supplied. “Boat will have a navigational system on board. All I need is to get JARVIS to talk to it and see where that boat has been lately, compare that to what we already know. Once we figure it out, could probably be there in twenty minutes.”
Once again, Stark was going into his plan full steam without thinking through the strategy of it all. “By yourself, you mean, without backup?”
“Peggy,” he began, but she cut him off.
“Killian has had the serum, all of his soldiers have had the serum. They are dangerous. You going in there by yourself will only get you killed.”
“I won’t be by myself, I’ll have Rhodey!” He looked to Rhodes, who frankly didn’t look certain that was enough.
“She’s not wrong, Tony,” he gently chided. “I saw the man breathe fire.”
“He’s got Pepper, Rhodes, what am I supposed to do?” There was a note of desperate pleading in Stark’s voice. “If we wait here any longer…”
“I get it, but that doesn’t mean we go in there guns blazing, either.” Rhodes was clearly not unsympathetic, but he was being the voice of reason. “If we have SHIELD backup, they could keep things distracted while you find Pepper.”
“Or Killian will see them coming from a mile away and kill her,” Stark insisted.
He wasn’t wrong in that, either. Over the past few days, Killian’s actions were becoming increasingly more erratic, his decisions poor. If backed into a corner, it was hard to tell what he would do.
Over their ear pieces, Banner’s voice sounded out of nowhere. “Guys, I think cops are on their way to the property, along with SHIELD.”
Frantically, Stark looked to Peggy. “Just…give me an hour’s head start. I’m not saying don’t follow, just let me and Rhodey get in there first, try to get Pepper out. You know if we don’t, he will just hurt her.”
She didn’t want to say yes, but she also didn’t want to gamble those odds with Pepper’s life. “What do you need?”
Stark looked as if he could cry with relief. “I need Banner to leave that quinjet door open. Me and Rhodey will head down to the boathouse. I’ll call the suit to me.”
She hated this idea, absolutely hated it!
“Peggy, I will be in and out, and then you can bring all the armored SHIELD personnel that you want, I promise. I’ll even wrap it in a bow for you! Merry Christmas!”
Whether it was the pleading or the desperation, reluctantly she gave in. “I’ll give you as much time as I can, but if you have not checked in by sunset, I’m going to use JARVIS to track you.”
“I promise,” he said, taking her hand and squeezing it tightly. “Rhodes, let’s move.”
“Right behind you.” Rhodes looked to Peggy, nodding in silent reassurance. At least one cool head was going in there with Stark. She watched them rush out towards the back of the house, turning to the other three in the room.
“Change of plans, Stark and Rhodes are going to go track down Killian, while we wait for Sharon and the team to arrive.”
Thor looked rather sad about this turn. Jake looked no happier than Peggy did about it. As for Slattery…
“Oh, shit, is that the police?”
Indeed, somewhere in the front of the property sirens could be heard. It wasn’t much longer before booted feet sounded, kicking in the front door and entering the property.
“Shit, shit!” Slattery looked as if he couldn’t decide whether to run away, crawl under something, or hide under the throw blanket on his lap. He stared at the water pipe in the far corner in panic.
“Oh, I’m afraid that it’s a bit too late for that, love,” Peggy sighed, as Thor tugged down the blanket from the actor’s grimacing face. “I better go and introduce myself and see if we can get some order before Sharon arrives.”
The surprised screams of the various woman who the police were running across led Peggy straight to them. Several of them met her with guns raised as she held up her own badge. “Director Carter, I’m with SHIELD.”
The entire lot of them were dressed out in tactical gear. Sharon had clearly warned them what they could find here. One of the men in the front, a man with name tag of Ramirez, held up his gun, studying her badge. “We got a call from you folks about a potential terrorist threat. Coincided with the neighbors calling about explosions on the property.”
“That would be Thor,” Peggy shrugged, waving vaguely behind her. “I suppose he left a present for you all on the front lawn?”
“One guy did all that,” another officer in the back asked in hushed awe.
“All by himself,” Peggy assured him, dryly. “The threat is under control now. The suspect has fled the scene and my team is tracking him. You will, however, find quite the collection of weapons, drugs, and one Shakesperean has-been being guarded by two of mine who will need to be placed under arrest.”
Ramirez nodded, staring about the house in vague confusion, not that Peggy could blame him. The entire place looked like an internet savvy sixteen-year-old had gotten a hold of jihadist propaganda and anarchist symbolism and made a mansion out of it. “So…is this the house of the Mandarin guy who was shooting people on TV last night?”
“In a manner of speaking,” Peggy replied, as more vehicles, these bearing SHIELD symbols on the side, began pulling up into the long drive as well. “That will likely be Agent Sharon Carter, the agent-in-charge of the investigation. Excuse me.”
She left the befuddled Miami-Dade police officer to manage his people while she moved out of the front door to find her niece. It became quite clear as she stepped out onto the circular front steps just why the officers were so in awe. In total, fifteen guards lay sprawled across the ornate, renaissance style guardian, all in various states of consciousness. She didn’t think any were dead…she hoped not at least. Several were starting to revive even as the police began to gather them up across the lawn, two others were being treated at an ambulance.
Armored SHIELD agents poured out of their various black SUVs, including Sharon in a full armored vest. She looked even more exhausted than the day before, but at least now she had the scent of her quarry. She marched up to Peggy, determination burning in her expression, and barely a smile in greeting. “Where is the son-of-a-bitch?”
Peggy assumed she meant Killian. “Fled, along with Savin. Stark is working on tracking him down.”
It was not the news Sharon wanted to hear. “Fuck! Peggy, how did he get away?”
“The same way he always has, by sacrificing those he considers expendable and scuttling off to hide while we wade through that.” She wished she had better news for her. “Besides, he has Pepper.”
Sharon blinked at her, already seeing where this was going. “Peggy…”
“I told Stark he could have a head start at getting to Killian, just so he could find her.”
“By himself? Peggy, you know what Killian can do!”
“And I know that if we go in there with the full compliment of this,” she flung her hands out around the front garden and all of the armored police and SHIELD personnel there, “we are also risking him outright killing Pepper. If Stark can get her out easily before we close in…”
“Or Killian could just turn tail and run again the minute Stark gets there, taking her with him. Or he could kill her and run, knowing Stark wouldn’t follow. Or maybe Stark’s successful and Killian still runs. Then I am stuck with an international manhunt on my hands. Peggy, I’ve been tracking this guy down for months, I’ve seen all the people he’s killed and hurt, and he doesn’t care. You just sent in Stark in alone to handle this. We could be there, waiting, ready to move in when he gets her.”
Peggy winced, knowing that Sharon was correct on all of her points. It was rare that she ever had a falling out with her niece, and it cut her to the quick that it happened now, on something as crucial as this. “I know. I’m sorry. He wanted it and was afraid of what would happen otherwise. He didn’t go in totally alone, though, he took Rhodes with him.”
Peggy could sense another Carter-level rant coming, but Sharon stopped, freezing in mid-thought. “Wait, did you say Rhodes was with him?”
“Yes,” Peggy nodded, realizing Sharon wouldn’t have known. “Killian had captured Rhodes, stole the Iron Patriot armor off of him. It’s not clear why yet.”
Her niece’s expression knit together as she shook her head, lightly. “No, that can’t be possible, because our intelligence had Rhodes getting onto Air Force One with the president half-an-hour ago.”
Peggy felt her stomach drop.
“No, I absolutely know Rhodes is with Stark, which means that either Killian or one of his henchmen is in that suit.”
“Shit,” Sharon swore, panic rising on her face.
“Did that plane take off?”
Sharon nodded in the affirmative. “He’s trying to kill the president.”
Peggy was already on her ear piece, her blood racing in fear. “Stark, Rhodes, Killian has a decoy in the Iron Patriot armor on Air Force One. You’ll need to get to him.”
Rhodes chimed in first, slightly breathless. “We called the vice president, he’s got people on it.”
“Someone else is in your suit and the suit is on the plane. They don’t know that it isn’t you! And whatever you told Vice President Rodriguez, that plane still took off.”
There was a beat of silence, then Stark on the line. “I’m on it.”
Thor’s deep rumble sounded. “Stark, I can fly. What can I do to help?”
Another moment of silence. “Meet me in the skies out back.”
From inside the house there were loud shouts and the murmur of voices as a glass window shattered. Peggy turned to see if she could spot Thor above, but he was behind the house, likely meeting up with Stark.
“Stark and Thor are on it,” Peggy said, turning back to Sharon. “And I imagine he has JARVIS working to pinpoint Killian’s location.
Sharon’s panic at this latest development did nothing to abate her clear anger at Peggy. “This isn’t your case, Peggy, you are threatening a lot doing this.”
“I know,” she acknowledged, trapped between a rock and a hard place. “But Stark is an Avenger, Sharon, and that is my team. Let him avenge this. I promise, when I know something, so will you.”
Sharon’s chin raised, her face darkening into the classic, Carter icy scowl, the one Peggy recognized in herself. “I better and Stark better not fuck this up.”
Peggy could make no promises on that score. “You will, until then there is an entirely different matter waiting for you inside with Jake.”
“What,” she ground out, clearly already at the end of what little patience she had left at the end of this horrific week.
“I’ve found the Mandarin…of a sort.”
That brought Sharon up short. “The…”
“Actor, yes! His name is Trevor Slattery and he has a fondness for drugs, women, and Shakespeare, I believe in that order. The man is a strung out buffoon, but ultimately harmless. He will likely turn evidence on Killian for a nickel.”
“Not even a whole dime,” Sharon snorted, moving forward to the house. “Let’s go chat with this Mr. Slattery and find out if he can sing as well as act.”
Peggy followed behind her niece, wisely choosing not to comment further. If things with Stark went south, she had a feeling her niece would not be quick to forgive her for it.