Tony stared at the note on his desk in consternation. He looked up at the man who had delivered it. “Is this for real?” he demanded.
Bucky shrugged. “Seems that way,” he agreed.
Tony scowled, picking up the ransom note between this thumb and index finger. “How long ago was it delivered?” he asked, resigned.
Bucky smirked, turning around and leaning casually against Tony’s desk. “‘Bout twenty minutes ago,” he replied.
“If I may, Sir,” Jarivs broken in, “it has been twenty-two minutes and thirty-seven seconds since the note was delivered.” Helpfully, the AI threw up a handful of images, facial recognition software and terabytes of data from Natasha’s info dump having already identified the messenger. “Mr. Fischer has been apprehended by NYPD.”
Tony sighed, bracing himself before giving the order. “J, make sure NYPD knows to hold him there until one of our guys can pick him up. And call him.”
“Dialing now, Sir,” Jarvis replied, sounding just as reluctant as his creator. Bucky made a confused face, but kept silent, trusting that Tony knew what he was doing.
A moment later, one of the most cheerfully irritating voices Tony had ever heard answered. “Hey there, Tony!” Deadpool all but sing-songed over the connection. “What can I do for you? Please tell me it pays well, I’m behind on rent!” The mercenary was definitely not one of the good guys, but he liked money, and Tony paid very, very well.
“Sorry, Wilson, no money this time,” Tony told him brusquely. “And you don’t pay rent anyhow.”
“That doesn’t mean that I won’t in the future,” Deadpool pointed out.
“Peter’s been kidnapped,” Tony stated bluntly, and the other man fell silent.
“Who?” he asked, the cheerful tone long gone, replaced by something that was as deadly as it was cold. “Who would dare?”
Wade Wilson didn’t have a lot of friends. Maybe three, if he was being generous. But he’d stop at nothing to protect those few. And Tony was counting on that. Iron Man didn’t - couldn’t - negotiate with terrorists.
“Jarvis is sending the information to your phone. You want backup?” Tony asked.
“You’d just get in my way,” Wilson told him, then hung up. Tony scowled.
“Who’s that?” Bucky asked curiously.
Tony sighed. “Wade Wilson. A supposedly immortal mutant. And a mercenary.” That seemed really important, somehow.
Bucky frowned. “And you trust this guy to save Parker?” he asked. Not like he was doubting Tony, but like he couldn’t help asking.
Tony smiled grimly. “Parker met this guy a while back, before I found the kid,” he said. Bucky nodded. Spider-Man was one of the Avengers now. Many people said he was Tony’s protege. But he’d been Spider-Man long before he’d been an Avenger. It wasn’t surprising that he might’ve crossed paths with other vigilantes out there.
“An’ this mercenary what? Likes him?” Bucky asked. “Do we need to suit up jus’ in case?”
Tony stood. “Deadpool and Peter are friends. They apparently met in Hell’s Kitchen.” Bucky’s eyes went wide as he followed Tony out of his office at the Compound. “Exactly,” Tony said. “And yes, we are suiting up. Because as soon as the kid’s safe, we’re going in to clean up whatever’s left.”
Bucky didn’t argue, just split off and headed for his set of rooms. “Meet you in five,” he said. Tony nodded. He could suit up on the way, thanks to the nanites, but he had his own preparations to make before they left.
Five minutes later, the Winter Soldier was piloting one of the Avengers Quinjets. Jarvis had already shut down communications among the Hydra members that had kidnapped Peter, and started scanning for signs that either Spider-Man or Deadpool had been sighted. Peter still wanted to keep his identity secret from most of the world, but if his life - or someone else’s - was in immediate danger, he wouldn’t hesitate to reveal his own superpowers. Which, while admirable, would make Tony’s job a lot harder. And put Peter’s Aunt May in a difficult spot.
They had barely lifted off when a large plume of smoke filled the sky near the harbor. The Soldier turned the Quinjet in that direction, even as the flashing lights of police cars wove through the city below them.
Tony grinned, opening the door to the Quinjet as the Iron Man armor formed around him. “Catch you on the flip side, Frosty!” he called, and then he was gone, outpacing the Quinjet and muttering to himself. “A warehouse on the water. Could they be any more unoriginal?”
“Sir, you have an incoming call,” Jarvis told him.
“Patch ‘em through, J,” Tony said.
“Mr. Stark?” Tony would never admit it, but hearing Peter’s voice, a little shaky but loud and clear, made him breathe his own sigh of relief.
“Yeah, kid,” Tony said. “Your buddy got you?”
“Yeah,” Peter agreed, and this time he sounded breathless. In the background, Tony could hear the explosions that were still happening below, and Deadpool yelling profanities at the bad guys, and he sighed. “How’d you know?” Peter wondered.
There was a brief moment of silence from both of them as Tony stopped in a gentle hover over the flaming remains of a large warehouse. People were scrambling around like ants, trying to escape the madman in their midst, and Jarvis tracked all of them on the armor’s HUD, sending the information to the Soldier as well. “Ah. Ransom note?” Peter guessed, sounding resigned.
“Ransom note,” Tony agreed, almost lazily aiming a repulsor blast at the ground in front of a small group of agents, causing them to yell in alarm and try to scramble backwards, before realizing that backwards meant towards Deadpool.
The Quinjet set down nearby, and the Winter Soldier strode out, a gun in one hand and a knife in the other, murder strut on full display. Tony grinned sharply. “We need to get you out of here, kid,” he said. “Think your pal down there would be willing to leave the rest to us?” He was pretty sure that any Hydra agents that were still alive would probably surrender without a struggle. Deadpool had that effect on people.
“I...yes?” Peter said, and Tony could hear the resignation in his voice. Peter wanted to help fight, too, but he still had a secret identity to maintain. Tony Stark’s protege was one thing. Iron Man’s protege? Something altogether different. Tony was surprised nobody had made the connection yet, to be honest.
“Thanks, kid,” Tony said.
Peter shouted to Wade, and the mercenary immediately ceased his attacks, whirling around and practically dancing over to Peter like an overeager puppy. While Tony watched in disbelief, Deadpool hauled Peter up over his shoulder, making the kid yelp. “Watch your hands, Wilson!” Tony snapped, and Deadpool laughed, but shifted his hand higher up so that it pressed against the small of Peter’s back, ignoring the kid’s protests as he hauled him off the battlefield, Iron Man and the Winter Soldier covering their retreat.
As soon as Peter was off the field, Tony stopped playing nice, and Bucky followed his lead. By the time the police finally arrived, there was nothing to do except to call the coroner.
Halfway across in the world, in a tiny underground bunker in the middle of a desert, a man stared in dismay at the messenger standing in front of him, cowering. “How did Iron Man find out that we’d taken his son?” he asked, his tone deadly.
The messenger - his name wasn’t important, and would be even less important momentarily - stammered out, “Th-the note.”
The man stared in disbelief. These idiots had sent Tony Stark a ransom note? He’d known they were incompetent, but he hadn’t known they were quite this stupid.
He stood up and fired, shooting the messenger in the head. As the body dropped, he strode out of the room, barking orders. It seemed that if he wanted something done, he’d have to do it himself.
And this time, there would not be a note.