Protective Custody

Chapter 12: Chang Dai

Gregory-

In what was likely the lowest honkey-tonk bar in New York, Gregory sat at a table in the dimmest part of the bar. The light overhead was broken and his back was to a wall so that he could face the rest of the room. His hand rested on the sweating bottle of beer on the table in front of him that he had no intention at all of drinking. If Papa Dino could see him in that moment... oh, what would he say?!

Gregory had certainly never expected to find himself in such a place. There was flannel and denim, cowboy hats and work boots everywhere. The room was filled with cigarette smoke. There were women with big hair and a tacky amount of make-up. The majority of the men were unshaven. The whole place was flooded with loud country music, annoying voices, and the sharp rap of pool balls striking one another.

The place was low, far less than anything he’d ever expected to be in, but it was the best hiding place he could find. That thought only fueled his anger. Hiding. He was hiding. Granted, the person he was hiding from was Blanca and if there was ever a person to fear, it was certainly Blanca, but Gregory still didn’t like it. He had reasoned that such a place was the last place Blanca would think to look for him in and, therefore, gave him the most time. Of course if he stayed too long, he was certain that, eventually, Blanca would find him there, so his time wasn’t unlimited. Even his quick disguise wouldn’t save him for long. He’d shaved off his goatee and bleached his hair. He’d gone so far as to get appropriate clothes and dressed himself in denim and flannel, the virtual uniform of the place. He was certain few people would know him, but that didn’t stop him from staring at the door or tensing every time someone walked a little too close to his table.

The cell phone in his pocket went off and he answered it with a curt, “What?”

“It’s done.”

Gregory struggled not to smile. “All of it?”

“Yes. It wasn’t hard. We sent it to your man, Evanstine, and he’ll see that it gets wherever it needs to go.”

“Good. And you? Are the two of you ready?”

“We’re headed to Chinatown, now. Don’t worry about our side of the bargain. We have just as much to lose as you do if the boy talks. He’ll be dead as soon as he gets in our sights.”

Gregory hung up and paid for the drink before he left the bar and headed for Chinatown. It was risky. Blanca wasn’t the only one out for his head. Papa Dino had plenty of enemies and Gregory’s face was familiar to all of them. Chinatown in particular was risky. Even with the massive change in power that had occurred when the youngest Lee brother had washed away the rest of his family in a sea of blood, there were still plenty of people who knew his face and would have undoubtedly enjoyed the opportunity to earn points with Lee Yut-Lung by killing one of Papa Dino’s men. He may have collaborated with Papa Dino on several issues, but Gregory didn’t for even a minute think that Lee Yut-Lung was stupid enough to pass up a chance to grab a little more power with Papa Dino dead. Despite the risks, he went to Chinatown and found his way to the Chang Dai restaurant. He covertly glanced into the restaurant through the large front window and saw a young woman serving a table. She wasn’t an attractive woman - boyishly short hair, a plain face, and no curves worth talking about. He kept walking until he found a place where he could wait and watch, no matter how long it took for Ash to show up.

The Avenger’s Tower-
Phil-

After learning what had happened to a friend of his, Ash was led out of the room and back to his bed. Phil watched as Ash was helped away, all his strength seemingly drained. This whole mission was just as hard as he’d feared. Getting Ash into the safety of the Avenger’s Tower had been hard, but, as was to be expected of someone who’d survived what Ash had, there were land mines lurking just below his calm facade. And that detached attitude Ash kept up was a facade, Phil believed. It was a good one, to be sure, but old. So old that it had cracks and weak spots. Most people might not see it, but Phil had been trained to see such things. The outburst from seeing the face of a friend on that roster from Club Cod was only one sign of the cracks in Ash’s facade. Even in the short time he’d known him, Phil had caught looks, certain mannerisms, a tension in the shoulders that told him as clearly as anything that Ash wasn’t nearly as composed as he wanted everyone to think, not nearly as in control as he fought to be.

No one said anything for a moment after Ash left and the door closed behind him, until Detective Charlie Dickinson, who’d brought the bad news, awkwardly collected his papers. “I’m sorry for all this, folks. I’ll get out of your hair.”

“Not at all,” Phil turned on his polite smile. He was inclined to like Detective Dickinson. “We welcome anyone who can help in the situation. Is there anything I can help you with while you’re here?”

Charlie shook his head. “No. I don’t think so. We’re still going over quite a lot of evidence and when this showed up, I needed to ask Ash about it.” He looked down at the paper with all the children’s photos on them. “We’re still trying to match names with faces, but, honestly, names didn’t seem to be very important to them. There’s a list of names that was found on the owner’s computer and more galleries like this,” he raised the paper a little to indicate it. “But we have to match them together and that’s proving difficult. Several families have come forward looking for their missing children. Three were claimed. It’s... it’s been hard.” He gave what looked like an almost painful smile. “I suppose it’s good that they have closure by getting the children back, but Captain Jenkins had to tell the families where their children were found, had to have them I.D. the bodies. It’s not going to get easier. We’re hoping more families will come forward.”

“What about Ash’s family?”

Detective Dickinson looked sad. “He’ll talk about that when he’s ready. Look, I know his reaction just now was rough, but please understand what a hard time this is for him. Shorter was practically a brother to him.”

“You knew him?”

“Shorter Wong was the leader of the Chinatown street gang. Normally, the leaders of two different gangs wouldn’t get on well, but those two understood each other. They could work together and hang out together and neither lost any respect from their gangs. Shorter died a few months ago. I wasn’t there, but Max told me it was real hard on Ash. To find out Shorter had suffered in Club Cod, too... well. I’m sure you can understand the shock. I should go. I need to talk to Shorter’s sister about this.” He looked shattered about the prospect, but shook hands all around and bid everyone a good night. He hesitated at the door. “Please, tell Max I need to talk to him soon.”

Yes, Phil was inclined to like Detective Dickinson. His professional training told him that Charlie was honest, a young man genuinely concerned for the people around him. It was good, Phil decided, that Ash had people like that around him. If they had to have more police officers coming to the Tower, then he wouldn’t mind if they were like Charlie.

Once Detective Dickinson had gone, Phil turned his attention to the rest of the room. He quietly said, “J.A.R.V.I.S., is everything alright with Ash?”

“I believe so. He is sitting on his bed and listening to Mister Glenreed who is telling him that he didn’t do anything wrong and Shorter wouldn’t have blamed him for anything. Phil, may I ask a question?”

“Of course.”

“Mister Lynx is very restless, though he seems tired. He will not sleep. I have spoken with him, played Go with him, and played what is generally described as soothing sounds, but it has not helped. Am I doing something wrong? Sir does not like to sleep in darkness, Bruce likes darkness and silence. Clint likes the soothing sounds I tried to play for Mister Lynx and Steve sleeps best with a radio playing. Natasha will not sleep around people she doesn’t know well. There are many different sleeping habits, I have noticed, but I am unsure how to help Ash.”

It warmed Phil’s heart to know that J.A.R.V.I.S. wanted to help, but also to know that he’d cared enough to notice the team’s sleeping habits and tried to cater to them. He wondered if J.A.R.V.I.S. wanted to help because Tony had programed him that way, which would show Tony’s deep concern for other people, or if it was simply J.A.R.V.I.S.’ personality, the character he’d developed on his own after Tony had finished his programming. “Remember - Max and Jessica both said Ash wasn’t likely to sleep well. Ash has only been here a few hours. He’s bound to be a little unsettled. Sooner or later, he’ll get tired enough that he’ll sleep whether he wants to or not. Don’t worry about it. I think you’re doing an excellent job just taking the time to talk to him. Did he really give you such a hard time with the Go game?”

J.A.R.V.I.S. made a little rippling, static sort of noise, as if he were laughing. “He is an excellent opponent. I do not praise lightly when I say that I almost thought I was playing with another computer.”

“I presume you used a holographic board and pieces?”

“No.”

“But we don’t have a physical board.” Phil frowned. “How did you play without a board?”

“We didn’t need one. We simply called out where to move our next stone. I am easily able to keep track of where on the board the pieces should be, but Ash apparently had no trouble remembering it, either. He kept his eyes closed and told me the coordinates of where he was putting his next stone, as if he could see the game being played out in his mind. We played for nearly a half-an-hour and he did not put a stone in an already occupied position even once. We paused the game when Detective Dickinson arrived. Given his current mood, I do not think we will play again, tonight.”

Phil was no expert on Go, though he had played a time or two. He did know that it was a game of strategy and logic. To be able to give J.A.R.V.I.S. a run for his money in such a game... it was remarkable. “J.A.R.V.I.S., is there any record of Ash having had an I.Q. test?”

“No.”

“Pity. It would have been interesting to see that.” It seemed obvious that the score would have been on the high side given how he played Go and how simply he’d solved the Rubix Cube earlier. “But in regard to his sleeping, I expect he just needs time to settle in. Don’t worry too much. I’ll keep an eye on things.” Because Phil tried very hard to keep an eye on everything.

With that, he turned his attention to the rest of his team. Steve, always polite, had walked Detective Dickinson out. Tony had excused himself to get some work done in his workshop. Natasha and Clint, tied together by an invisible string, tended to keep track of each other. That was the only reason why Phil realized there was a problem. Natasha was sitting in the kitchen, alone. Natasha often needed time alone and it was something everyone on the team respected. Sometimes she liked to be near others, but there were times, many times, when noise and movement and talking were too much and she would simply leave. However, he couldn’t miss how melancholy her expression was. It seemed clear, at least to Phil, that Natasha wasn’t the one who’d wanted to be alone, this time. Clint had.

“What’s wrong?” Phil asked when he joined her at the table. He noticed, again, that there was some resemblance between her and Ash. He couldn’t really pinpoint it - maybe it was the fine lines of her profile and the shape of her lips... perhaps it was more the ears? He didn’t know what it was, but she definitely reminded him of Ash. She’d never had children, so that couldn’t be it. She’s told him once, very matter-of-factly, that The Red Room had made children impossible, to prevent complications. She had never voiced unhappiness with what had been done to her, but he had, once or twice, seen her watching children and their parents at the local park.

“Clint is upset,” Natasha said, briskly. Despite her obvious unhappiness, she spoke as if she were giving a mission report - clear and concise. “I do not know what to do.”

“I’ll talk to him. Do you know why he’s upset?”

Natasha hesitated. “He has been upset since we saw the news report about Club Cod. He is more upset now.”

“I see. Thank you. It was good of you to keep track of him.” He did try to praise her when she made an attempt to help others or understand them. Given her training, both of those things were very difficult for her. “J.A.R.V.I.S., where’s Clint?”

“He is in the gym.”

“Thank you.”

In the gym, set up so that everyone could keep in peak physical condition, Clint was punching the punching bags Steve normally worked out with. Naturally, he couldn’t do any damage to them while Steve habitually broke them. Unbreakable punching bags was yet another project Tony was working on but hadn’t found a solution for. While Clint was strong, he couldn’t hold a candle to Steve. Few people could. But Clint had worked up a good sweat, punching the same spot over and over. He even looked angry and Phil didn’t like that. Clint was normally a very easy-going, mellow sort of person. To see him actually angry was extremely unusual.

Phil waited.

For twenty minutes Clint tried to hurt the punching bag until he started to slow and then droop. He stood there a moment, breathing hard. Then he walked away from the punching bag and left the gym. Phil followed, silently. They ended up at the gun range and Clint went to a large collection of different types of firearms. He picked one and loaded it. Clint said, “I’ll be here a while. You shouldn’t wait for me.”

“I don’t mind waiting. You’re worth it.” Any moment he could take to work on his team’s self-esteem was time well spent. For such very good people, it was unbelievable how low they could think of themselves. “Do you want to talk about whatever’s bothering you?”

“It’s nothing. Really. Nothing happened to me.” He turned serious, troubled eyes to Phil. “No one ever touched me. I wasn’t hurt.”

That was alarming. Phil felt all his protective instincts flare to life. “But something did happen, didn’t it?”

Clint stared down the sight of his gun at the target at the other end of the range. His shoulders were stiff. Slowly, the gun lowered to his side. “Not really. Not like what happened to Ash.”

“You can tell me.”

Clint raised the gun, again, and fired. A bull’s-eye, naturally. “Let’s just say, “There but for the grace of God, go I.” and leave it at that. Nothing really happened. I’m okay. Just, hearing about what Ash lived through kinda makes me think about... stuff. It’s old news.” He turned his head and flashed a smile, warm and genuine. “I promise I’m okay.”

Phil felt a tendril of dread in his chest and anger. He didn’t know who to be angry at or what, exactly, he was angry about, but it certainly didn’t sound good. He didn’t like the idea of his team being treated badly and thinking about what their lives had been like before they’d gotten so strong made Phil want to hurt people. But he had accepted that he couldn’t solve everyone’s problems, especially not the problems that lay far in their pasts. He still wanted to hurt the people who’d caused those problems. “Alright. If you’re sure. Natasha was worried about you.”

“Oh, dear. You know, she’s a lot better at reading people than she thinks. I’ll go make sure I didn’t send her into a tizzy.”

The idea of Natasha - composed, elegant, and solemn - having a ‘tizzy’ was enough to make Phil smile. They both laughed together and headed upstairs so Clint could reassure Natasha there was nothing to worry about.

The day faded into night. Phil didn’t hear anything else that alarmed him too terribly. Clint spent the rest of the day with Natasha, laughing and teasing, though Phil suspected Clint had slipped on a cheery mask so Natasha wouldn’t worry. The rooms Tony had been getting ready for Max, Jessica, and Michael were finished and he took them off for a tour. While they were gone, Phil, Bruce, and Steve stayed in the common room to keep Michael company. Michael, still in awe of getting to meet his favorite super hero, was happy to sit on the floor with Bruce and play with Legos. Phil hadn’t even known that Tony had such a collection of Legos, but, in retrospect, it did seem like something Tony would have enjoyed. Currently, Michael was building a something, but Phil couldn’t tell what it was. No matter, it seemed to make him happy.

Phil went into the room and sat on the sofa in time to hear Michael say to Bruce, “... and Ash will live with us and he’ll get his own room.”

“Can you tell me why you like Ash so much?” Bruce asked. “You said he’s your best friend, but why?” He added another Lego to the wall he was building.

“Ash brought daddy home.” Michael pulled his teddy bear, who had been sitting next to him while he played, onto his lap and started to run his fingers over it’s well-worn fur. “The bad men were hurting mommy. They made her cry and ripped her clothes. One of the bad men made me watch and I don’t really know what they did, but it hurt mommy. Then they all ran away before the police got there. Then daddy got home. The bad men left because they knew Ash was bringing daddy home and daddy would’ve kicked their butts! That’s why Ash is my best friend - he brought daddy home so daddy could save mommy. And Ash is really nice and gives great hugs.”

Bruce smiled. “Those are good reasons to think Ash is pretty great.”

Though it all, Steve had been sitting in one of the large easy chairs, simply watching the play. He seemed happy enough but stood up and walked out. Just a few moments later, he returned with the teddy bear he’d gotten several days ago when they’d all first learned about Club Cod just in case there had been any survivors. There had been a survivor, but Phil suspected that the odds of Ash accepting a teddy bear as a gift were not very high. Steve crouched down in front of Michael. “I know you already have a bear, but,” he held out his bear. “If you’d like it, you can have it. Maybe your bear would like a friend?”

Michael looked first at Steve and then at bear. He smiled. “For me? To keep forever?”

“Forever.”

Michael reached out and took the bear. “Thank you, Mister Rogers. She’s beautiful. I think her name’s Buddy.” Slowly, Michael smiled. “Can I give her to Ash?”

“If you want to. Do you think he’d want it?”

“Yup.” Michael patted Buddy’s head. “He needs a teddy bear. I really like the bear, but Ash needs someone to sleep with, too, so he won’t have anymore nightmares.”

Phil knew it would take more than a teddy bear to stop the nightmares that surely plagued Ash, but he said nothing. There was no reason at all to make Michael feel badly when he was clearly so proud to help Ash.

The rest of the evening was peaceful. Max and Jessica fetched Michael and took him off to their rooms to get him to bed and everyone else, one-by-one, drifted off to their own rooms to retire for the evening. As he started to go to sleep, Phil puzzled over the trouble with Ash’s friend, Shorter, but there wasn’t much that could be done. The boy was dead, according to Detective Dickinson. It was far more important to give Ash whatever support he needed to deal with the new found knowledge. Phil’s first instinct was to contact a therapist, but Max had been very confidant that Ash would have nothing to do with a therapist. Something had to be done. There was surely someone Ash would talk to.

Later-
Ash-

Ash woke with a gasp. He blinked and saw nothing but darkness. His heart was racing, drumming against his ribs. His throat was dry and felt as if it would close up. The nightmare stayed with him for a time and he felt he was still in it, a big hand running over his back. He still heard Shorter, younger in Ash’s nightmare, crying for help. Shorter had been at Club Cod and Ash hadn’t been there to help.

“Mister Lynx?”

Ash forced himself to breathe. One breath, then two. He remembered he was in the Avenger’s Tower. The voice belonged to J.A.R.V.I.S., the computer that ran the whole building. Shorter had been at Club Cod, a scared little boy.

“Mister Lynx, are you alright? Sensors indicate elevated heart rate.”

Ash took one more deep breath. “Lights. Get the damned lights on.”

The lights immediately flashed on. The room was small and utilitarian. The bed was soft, but narrow. There was no art on the walls, no mirror. He wasn’t in the mansion. He wasn’t in Club Cod. Slowly, his heart eased and he was able to breathe more normally.

“Mister Lynx?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m alright.” Ash sat up and ran a hand through his hair. He was still dressed and really didn’t remember how he’d ended up in the bed. “How long was I asleep?” Shorter had been at Club Cod. He couldn’t escape the thought.

“Approximately nine hours. Max advised allowing you to sleep undisturbed. Everyone is currently asleep, but I have been asked to wake Max or Jessica if you need them. Do you require...”

“No. I’m good. Let them sleep.” Ash sat there for a moment, staring at his knees. His injuries hurt, throbbed with a hot agony. Maybe he was over-doing it, a little, but the idea of just laying around in bed made him cringe. He’d just lay there and think about Shorter. And that, naturally, brought another matter to mind. He stood up and stretched then ran a hand through his shaggy hair. He checked his cell phone and found that it was very early in the morning, but late enough that someone he knew would be awake. It was time he talked to her and explained. Ash stuffed his cell phone in his pocket and said, “Tell Max I went out. I’ll be back in a couple of hours.”

“Out?” J.A.R.V.I.S. repeated. “Is that wise? Your injury...”

“I know. It was bad, but it’s alright, now.” It probably wasn’t alright, but there was no point in worrying people and it wasn’t as if Ash could afford to just lay around doing nothing. There was stuff to do, important stuff. “I’m good. Honestly.” Ash looked quickly around the little room, but there was hardly anything in it. He did see a bottle of pills sitting on a note on a little bedside table.

“Ash,” the note read. “Take two pills and eat something. Jessica.”

He swallowed the two pills - antibiotics - and then thought about eating. He really should. Blanca had always stressed the importance of a healthy diet and had even taken many long hours during their lessons to teach Ash what he ought to eat to keep his body in top condition. He could practically hear Blanca’s soothing voice, “You must take care of your body to keep it strong and healthy. Your body is your number one weapon, so you must not neglect it.”

Logic dictated that Ash follow Blanca’s advice. The diet Dino had forced on Ash wasn’t healthy, so it would be sensible to ignore it as there was no longer any danger of being punished if Dino found out that Ash had snuck a cookie or a soda. Then why, Ash wondered, was it so hard? Still, he would try. “Anyone going to get an attitude if I get something to eat?” Ash asked.

“Certainly not. I am most certain that all would be pleased if you satisfy your appetite. Please, go to the kitchen and take whatever you please.”

Ash did just that. The kitchen turned out to be well stocked with so much food that Ash, for a moment, stood there and just stared into the refrigerator. He went to the look in the cabinets and then into a large pantry. There was food everywhere and Ash felt just a little overwhelmed by the selection. Then, thankfully, he saw a bowl of apples on the counter. Doctor Banner had said they would get apples for him. It was simple and easy. So he grabbed an apple and stood at the window as he ate. What he needed, he reflected, was a weapon before he went out. It was tempting to snatch a knife from the kitchen, but he didn’t have a convenient way to store it until he needed it. So he started to wander around the common room until he went back to the kitchen and began rummaging through drawers. Eventually he found the one thing all kitchens had - a junk drawer. In that drawer was a small extension cord. Ash pulled it out and looked it over before he bundled it up and stuck it in his pocket. He made a quick phone call to a local bank and had just hung up when the door of the common room opened.

Clint, fully dressed, walked in. He grinned at Ash. “J.A.R.V.I.S. said you were up and roaming around. You are one tough guy, know that? I’d take the opportunity to sleep, if I were you.”

“No time. I’m a busy guy.”

“I know. J.A.R.V.I.S. also told me you were planning to go for a walk. I’m on the schedule as your guard today, so I’ll be going with you.”

Ash frowned. “I don’t want a babysitter.”

“Welcome to the world of ‘Protective Custody’ where you don’t always get what you want. So, where are we going?”

It was obvious that Clint wasn’t going to be talked out of going, so Ash gave in and allowed Clint to walk with him. Not that he could stop Clint; he felt horribly weak, though the apple had helped. They were on the sidewalk, dawn just starting to rise, before Clint cleared his throat and said, “I’ve been thinking and I think I owe you an apology.”

Ash frowned. People didn’t, as a rule, apologize to him unless he was pointing a gun at their face. Suspiciously, he glared at Clint. “What for?”

Clint scratched the back of his head. “Getting nosy about what happened to you. In the hospital? I shouldn’t have gone asking all that and especially not in front of a crowd of people when you were hurt and probably just wanted some peace and quiet.”

“Is that all?” Ash rolled his eyes. It had been weird to have someone ask how he’d ended up in Club Cod, before he’d met Max no one had ever really cared. “Don’t worry about it.”

But Clint looked troubled. “I wanted to explain. You see... ummm... I grew up in a circus. I’m an orphan, but the circus people were always good to me. We traveled all over the place. We stopped in this one town and there was this guy, an outsider. He was real nice to me, always stopped for a chat when I was cleaning out the animal cages or something. He once gave me a kite and it was fantastic. I still remember - it had a sun painted on it. Well, one night, I heard him talking to the ringmaster. I was only little at the time - I think I was ten or maybe twelve - so I didn’t really understand all of what they were saying, but I did understand that the man wanted to buy me from the ringmaster. He offered the ringmaster two hundred dollars for me. I heard him mention something, though. He said he was going to take me to Club Cod.” Clint met Ash’s eyes, steadily. “When I heard about Club Cod on the news, I remembered all that. Then I met you and...well. I remembered. I wanted to know how you’d come to be in that place. I wanted to know if the same guy had bought you. It was stupid to ask you like that, though. I should have kept my mouth shut.”

Ash looked at Clint steadily. He didn’t see any deception. “I was homeless and trying to live on the streets. Dino kept a couple of guys on his payroll who snatched kids from the streets for him - kids no one cared about. Those guys found me and grabbed me. It’s weird someone would try to buy you; there are plenty of unwanted kids on the streets. Still,” he looked closely at Clint. “You’re pretty much Dino’s taste. White, blonde. When you were young, he’d have wanted you in Club Cod. He prefers green eyes, but there are people who like blondes with blue eyes, so you would have brought in good money for him. You didn’t get sold, though, did you?”

“I had a friend back then, the Swordsman. He sort of looked out for me. I told him what I’d heard that guy and the ringmaster talking about and he stormed off. A bit later he came back and told me not to worry about it anymore. We left the town that night and I never saw that man again. It occurred to me that maybe, if I had been taken to Club Cod, things might have been different for you.”

Ash cast Clint a curious look. “What are you talking about?”

“If I had been taken to Club Cod, I would have been able to stop it. I would have been able to do something about all that and save all those kids. I was a sharpshooter even when I was a kid, and I’d been trained to fight. I could have helped. If I’d gone, your friend wouldn’t have been put in Club Cod. You wouldn’t have had to go there. I might have stopped it long before you ever set foot there.”

“You’re actually feeling guilty because something bad DIDN’T happen to you?” Ash let out a dry chuckle. “Look, if you had gone there, you wouldn’t have ended up any better than anyone else. The first thing they did was drug everyone coming in. If they’d have found any weapons on you, they’d have taken ‘em. If they’d thought you posed a serious threat, they’d have killed you. Easy as that. So stop feeling guilty for what might have happened, but didn’t. Come on. I gotta go to the bank.”

“The bank?” Clint looked at his watch. “It’s too early. They won’t be open.”

“They’ll open for someone with a big enough account. Come on.”

At the bank, under the name of Christopher Winston, Ash had a meeting with the bank manager and Clint casually waited nearby. The bank manager had cheerfully opened early when he realized what an impressive account Ash kept at the bank. Ash checked a few boxes and signed some papers before the bank manager gave him a handful of envelopes and shook his hand. Ash and Clint walked around the city for a bit and Ash stopped by the hangout to give Alex a few instructions and let everyone know he was still alive, just busy. Then they moved on, Clint always a few steps behind and, reassuringly vigilant. It wasn’t too often that Ash met someone as aware of their surroundings as himself, but Clint was. Ash could tell Clint was constantly looking around, but was clever enough to make it all look casual, as if it were no big deal They went to Chinatown and it wasn’t until Ash was on the familiar streets he’d walked so often with Shorter that he began to have misgivings. Despite his apprehension, Ash kept going, right to the Chang Dai.

The moment they walked in, Nadia, standing at the cash register, saw them. She started to smile, but then must have seen the serious look on Ash’s face, because her smile fell away, too. It was early, far too early for her to open, but there was always work to be done before she could let customers in so she was always awake and working well before sunrise. When she opened the door for them, Clint discreetly went to a table in the far corner of the room while Ash and Nadia sat across from each other at another table. As was his habit, Ash sat with his back to a wall, facing the window - he didn’t like leaving himself exposed - and Nadia sat facing him.

“How are you doing?” Nadia asked after a moment. “Rumor is that you were stabbed. I hope you’re doing better.”

“I’m fine. I’m good. Look, Nadia,” Ash could hardly stand to look her in the eye. “I gotta tell you about Shorter. How he died. I don’t want to hurt you, but you gotta know.” His breath hurt in his chest. His heart ached. He’d known it would be hard, but this seemed too much. “Nadia, I...”

“I know.”

Ash paused and blinked. He looked at her. “What?”

“I know how Shorter died.” She reached across the table and took his hands in hers. “I know why he died. Sing told me everything he knows and Charlie told me what he knew. I thought you might want to talk about this sooner or later.” She stroked the backs of his wrists with her thumbs, a tender gesture, and looked at him with pity. “Ash, do you honestly think I would believe you would do anything to hurt Shorter?”

Ash pulled his hands away from her and put them on his lap. “I killed him. I shot him.”

“I know. And he was suffering, wasn’t he? Sing said there was an awful drug they’d given Shorter, something that affected his brain. Something he’d never recover from.” She sighed, sadly. “My poor little brother. I know he was feared on the streets, but he was my goofy little brother who read too many comic books and watched Three Stooges marathons. That someone would hurt Shorter like that... it’s too cruel. But you saved him from that pain. No,” she held up a hand when Ash tried to protest. “I won’t hear you argue. Not about this. Tell me the truth - he was suffering, wasn’t he?”

“Yeah.”

“And he was never going to recover?”

“No.”

And she smiled. “Then thank you for saving him. Shorter never would have wanted to be trapped like that. I don’t blame you at all for what happened to him, but if you need to hear it - I forgive you.”

Ash felt something odd in his chest. It hurt, but it was a good hurt. It felt like something broken was starting to heal, but he couldn’t describe it any better than that. “Thank you.” He was suddenly acutely aware of Clint watching him and hurried to rein in his emotions. “Look. Here. I got something for you.” He pulled out one of the envelopes he’d gotten at the bank, earlier, and pushed it across the table to Nadia. “It’s Shorter’s share. He’d want you to have it.”

Nadia opened the envelope and her eyes went wide. “What...?”

“It’s a bank account I set up for you. Those numbers are the account number and the current balance. It’s yours.”

“I can’t take this.” Nadia shook her head and started to push the envelope back to Ash. “It’s too much. Where did it come from?”

“I stole it from some very bad people and they didn’t do anything honest to get it. I’m dividing everything I got between everyone who helped me, so that’s Shorter’s share. You take it. I won’t take it back. If it makes it any easier, that money belonged to the people who forced that drug on Shorter.”

After a moment Nadia nodded and took the envelope and put it in her apron pocket. “Alright. Thank you.” She paused and gave him a searching look. “You know it’s not necessary, don’t you? You don’t have to give away all your money to get forgiveness. Shorter was my only brother by blood, but with how close you two were, it always seemed as if I had a second little brother.”

Ash looked down at his lap, suddenly bashful. People didn’t say things like that about him. They just didn’t. “Don’t get all mushy. And it’s not for anything like forgiveness. Like I said - it’s dirty money. I stole it to make life hard for Dino, but I don’t want it. I don’t want anything of his. So I’ll give it to people who can use it. I want you to have it. Shorter would have wanted you to have it.” He gave a shrug. “If you don’t want it, that’s okay. I’ll get rid of it somewhere.”

But Nadia didn’t give back the envelope and smiled at him, soft and gentle as always.

Ash didn’t like doing it, but he had gone to Chang Dai for more than giving Nadia Shorter’s money and apologizing for how Shorter had died. She deserved to know all the truth about Shorter, but just thinking about the expression she would get on her face, about how she would surely cry for Shorter, it made Ash’s throat close up. He didn’t want to do it. His hands were sweaty and he had to take just a second to let his mind go into the cool, stillness that he had learned in order to get unpleasant jobs done.

“Feeling too much is dangerous,” Blanca had once told him. “Powerful emotions are distracting and cloud the mind. Control them and allow your logic and reason to rule you. Then, you will complete your job successfully.”

So, Ash did as he’d been taught and let his anger, pain, and guilt fade into the background. “Nadia... about Shorter...”

“Is this about Club Cod?” Nadia gave Ash an encouraging smile. “I was wondering when you’d mention it. Charlie already told me.”

“He did? About Shorter being at Club Cod?” He couldn’t figure out why she wasn’t angry. He’d been prepared for her to cry, to leave the room, or even hit him. He didn’t expect her soft, gentle eyes to land on him with such sympathy.

“Ash, Shorter was never at that place.”

Ash shook his head. “I saw his picture on the Club Cod roster. It was from Dino’s database. He kept records of all the kids.”

“I believe you, but Shorter was never at Club Cod. I told Charlie and he said he was going to go see you today and let you know.” Nadia stood up and went into the back room, a room Ash knew was used for storage. A moment later she returned with a large book and she put it on the table between them. It was a photo album and she flipped through it until she stopped at one page and showed Ash what was obviously a school photograph. That photograph was the same as the one used in the Club Cod roster. “Shorter was ten-years-old in this picture, I remember mother yelled at him because he wouldn’t wear a suit and tie to school for picture day.” She looked up from the photograph and met Ash’s eyes very seriously. “Shorter never went missing. Not for a single day. I wouldn’t forget something like that. He did go through some hard things when he was much younger, things he didn’t want you to know about because he knew it would upset you, but he never went missing.”

“I don’t get it.” Ash stared at the picture of Shorter and puzzled the mystery over. It was clearly the same photo that had been on the Club Cod roster. “Why...” his eyes roamed over the pages of the photo album, stuffed full of family pictures that showed the whole family together or individually. He’d never known Shorter had been a Boy Scout. He hadn’t known that Nadia had been a ballerina. And that was only on one page. What other secret treasures were in that album? Pictures of grandparents? Ash had never met any of his. He very suddenly wanted his picture of himself and Griffin dressed up as baseball players, but the thought of seeing himself in his little league uniform was not appealing. Maybe he could just cut himself out of the photograph and keep Griffin. That meant he’d have to go back to Cape Cod, though, so it probably wasn’t going to happen. His eyes drifted around the photographs until he noticed a small, pale spot near the photo of Shorter. “Something’s missing. What was there?” He pointed to the pale spot.

Nadia frowned at the spot. “It was the same picture only smaller, one of the wallet-sized ones they always give out with school pictures. I was just looking at this the other day and I know the picture was there. I wonder where it went.”

And it all fit together in Ash’s mind with alarming clarity. “Someone took it. They took it and faked the roster to bring me here.”

In the space of heartbeat, Ash’s thoughts began to race.

‘Who? Who did this? Rob Nadia of a childhood photograph of her dead brother and have that photograph added to the almost ten-year-old photo roster of Club Cod. It was meant for me to see. It wouldn’t mean anything to anyone else. Whoever did it knew that anything about Shorter would’ve grabbed my attention and would have sent me running here to investigate. Who? My guys wouldn’t dare pull this kind of sick prank. Shorter’s gang? No. They’re too loyal to Shorter’s memory and no one in Chinatown would deliberately put Nadia in danger. Yut-Lung?’ That gave Ash pause. ‘No. He’d try to kill me, but Sing’s working with him and Sing would kill anyone who hurt Nadia. Besides, Nadia’s got good standing in Chinatown and if word got out that the newest head of the Lee family had hurt her, there would be a riot. Yut-Lung can’t risk that when he’s still new to his position. Who else? And then the answer struck Ash like a hammer right between the eyes. ‘Arthur. Arthur knew I was tight with Shorter and that crawling dog would’ve had sung like a bird while he was busy licking Dino’s feet. He’d have told Dino everything, including how close me ‘n Shorter were. But Dino and Arthur are dead. Gregory and Angie were always with Dino, always lurking in his shadow. They’d have heard anything Arthur told Dino. I know I didn’t killed them when I ambushed Dino’s car, so they’re probably still alive. They’d be happy to kill me, but they’re both rubbish with computers. Neither of them could have slipped Shorter’s picture onto the Club Cod roster. So... who?’

He suddenly felt like he was being watched. Unsafe. Danger. Ash’s instincts screamed at him. ‘Danger! Down! Down!’

He lurched forward, out of his seat, and shoved Nadia backward just as the restaurant’s large front window was shattered when a bullet flew through it. Nadia screamed and Ash threw himself on the floor when a second shot was fired, lodging itself in the back wall. Under the table, Ash grabbed Nadia’s hand and pulled her under the table for safety.

Clint was with them at once and, with one hand, he flipped the table they were hiding under on it’s side and used it as a shield between Ash and Nadia and the shooter. A hand landed on Ash’s shoulder and he heard Clint’s steady voice, “Stay down.” He looked up and there was Clint, gun in hand. He took his hand off Ash’s shoulder and knelt with them behind the table, peering over the top at the street outside. He was calm, Ash noted, with due respect. Clint didn’t shake or sweat or look even the slightest bit alarmed. He was perfectly composed. “Either of you hurt?”

Nadia shook her head. “No. I’m alright.” She wasn’t alright. She was shaking and pale. She stayed very still. “Ash, are you hurt?”

“Don’t worry about me.” Ash really wanted a gun. He started to push himself up, but Clint’s hand came back down on his shoulder. Ash shrugged him off.

“Stay where you are,” Clint told Ash, sternly. “I’m going to check it out. See if the shooter is still around.” He stood up cautiously and when there were no more gunshots, he went to the door and slipped outside.

People were yelling outside. Sing was going to be ready to chew nails when he heard someone shot at the Chang Dai and had nearly killed Nadia. Ash wasn’t overly happy about it, either. Ash stayed with Nadia, almost laying on the floor behind the protection of the table and hated how weak he felt. His wounds hurt after the rough dive to the floor, but it wasn’t enough to put him out of commission. He looked down at his gut and didn’t see any blood on his shirt. A good sign. He took a couple of deep breaths, then started to stand. Nadia grabbed his hand and tugged.

“No! It’s dangerous!”

Ash was angry at the fear on her face. She shouldn’t be afraid in her own home. So he sat, again, and squeezed her hand. “I won’t let other people fight my battles.” It wasn’t right that Clint was out in the open looking for someone Ash should deal with while Ash sat there and cowered behind a table. “Just stay here and keep your head down until I get back.”

Nadia’s hand tightened on Ash’s. “I can’t lose Shorter AND you!”

“You won’t. I’ll be right back. I promise.” He waited and, after an agonizing moment, Nadia released his hand and Ash cautiously stood up.

Sitwell-

On the top of an apartment building two streets away from Chang Dai, Jasper Sitwell stood with his smoking gun in one hand, and looked down at the two dead men at his feet. One bullet in each head and the problem was dealt with. He hadn’t gone out that morning intending to kill anyone, but when he’d sat in his vantage point to watch the meeting in the Chang Dai restaurant he hadn’t expected assassins. Really, he should have. Considering the situation, the boy was likely to be the target of a great many attempts on his life.

He had been watching the Avenger’s Tower and had been rewarded for his patience when he’d seen Ash Lynx and Hawkeye leave the Avenger’s Tower together. He followed then, very careful not to alert them to his presence until he saw them enter a restaurant and then he’d taken up a spot on a building across the street to watch and wait. He didn’t know why Ash Lynx would be going to such a run-down place, but that didn’t really matter. He only wanted a chance to speak with Ash Lynx, alone.

“And look at what you two did.” He commented at the two dead men. They were both actually very respectable looking. They were clean-cut and looked very much like proper businessmen on their way to the office. He’d noticed them when they’d arrived on the building next to the one he’d chosen, but didn’t become alarmed until he saw them setting up a rifle and start to aim. He hadn’t been fast enough to stop their first two shots. “I need him too much. I can’t have people like you doing something so wasteful as killing him.”

Sitwell pulled out his tiny spyglass from his pocket and used it to look over at the Chang Dai. He saw the large front window had been shattered. The streets had quickly emptied of people, frightened by the gunfire. After a moment, he watched as Hawkeye stepped out of the Chang Dai and at once start in the direction of the building Sitwell stood on. There was no doubt that Hawkeye, with his fantastic training, would find the would-be killers without any trouble. Sitwell looked back in the restaurant and saw, with relief, Ash Lynx stand up with no apparent new injuries.

“Looks like it’s time for me to leave. I’ll have to talk with the boy, later.” And he easily slipped away before Hawkeye arrived.

To be continued...