I thought that I was done with gym class
We were called up for a mission in the Mediterranean where a group of baddies was holding an entire government's ministers hostage. Per my usual mission requirements, I sat in the quinjet and listened to the op as it went down. We'd gotten blueprints of the building before we left, so I remembered the details and was able to follow who was where, making the situation much more interesting for me. From what I could hear, my teammates had the situation in hand, although they were finding it harder going than they'd anticipated; the defense was better that it should have been; they had mutants of their own. Ever since the mission where Thor had knocked out Wanda, where it had been determined that Vision had turned off the coms, nobody but me was allowed to touch the communication array in the quinjet during a mission. In a time where nothing was going on, I turned down the quinjet's audio system and put in an earpiece, the team's chatter in background audio, then began slowly changing the channels on the receiver in the earpiece, allowing time for decryption if a coded channel was being used. And there was; the baddies had their own chatter. I noted five names that seemed to be the core group as well as some mercenaries. One of the core group was apparently absent, as he was referenced as being "at home." It was nothing specific that was said, but I started to have a bad feeling about this bunch; it felt to me that this action was kind of a scrimmage rather than a regulation game.
I turned around and sidled toward the rear of the quinjet after hearing a slight sliding sound, but was surprised by a man who matched the description of the mercenaries, all in black, with a black mask that covered the entire face and head except for the eyes. He grabbed for me, but I liberated a parachute first and smacked him as hard as I could across the face with it. He staggered, then hit me. Yeah, it hurt, but I fell into a fire extinguisher, which I wrenched free and hit the guy with it like it was a baseball bat. My adrenaline was way up, and it was good that it hit the guy's shoulder first before it made contact with his head or I probably would have killed him. I zip-tied the crap out of him and left him on the floor, closing myself into the cockpit. When the others returned to the jet after turning over the mercs to the local authorities--the real conspirators having escaped--they were bemused to see my captive.
"There's a couple inches here that doesn't have a zip tie," Tony said, pointing. I curled my lip at him.
"Are you ok, Emma?" Steve asked, ignoring Tony.
"Yeah, he hit me, but not too hard," I said, touching my cheek. I knew there wouldn't be any marks on it. Natasha gave me a cold pack anyway, and it did feel good. The ride home was pretty quiet as we were all working on our after-action reports for Nick. For only the second time, I had some excitement of my own to describe.
At the debriefing, Nick ran through the direct action, using the projector to provide a three dimensional view of the building and the locations of the hostages, bad guys, and good guys. I listened as Nick asked for clarifications and amplifications, then required everybody who had responded to amend their after-action reports to include them. Then we got to my part of the narrative.
"The quinjets can decrypt signals?" Clint asked, and I stared at him.
"Yeah, didn't you know?"
"No," he said, looking frustrated. "How do you know?"
"It's in the book," I said blankly. "I'm working on the new quinjets, so for background, the engineers gave me the book that has the specifications for all the equipment. It's in there, an upgrade of the current equipment." Clint muttered something I didn't quite catch. "Stop by my workshop after and I'll give it to you." Then I got to identify our core baddies of Ballista, Nepthys, Necros, and Sess.
"The other one, apparently a man with the code name of Namitar, sat this one out, doing something at their home base or whatever. Some of them appear to have mutations, but I'm not sure exactly what they are; Ballista moves projectiles, Nepthys, I don't know, Necros, I don't know, Sess, I don't know. I Googled them; there's nothing about these particular individuals, but Nepthys was an Egyptian goddess of death and decay and Namitar was a Mesopotamian god of disease. Necros, there's just the obvious allusion to death, and I don't have any idea about Sess. I got the feeling that this was more of a test rather than its own objective," I said. "I'm not sure, but I think that it was a chance to go up against the Avengers and see how you responded, what they could expect if this was just the warm up rather than the main event."
Nick had questions about that, polling the Avengers in the action for their impressions of the group. Nobody had any data, but there was general support for my interpretation of the mission. Then he gave some people assignments, seconding Wanda to him for interrogation of the merc that I'd knocked out. To my surprise, I was given a task too. Self defense.
"You can't rely on handy fire extinguishers," Nick tells me severely. "Although that was a good use of what was available." He details Steve to do the dirty work of toughening me up.
Personally, I'm afraid of getting tougher. I already feel like a freak, and I wonder what toughening me up is going to entail, because one thing I know about Nick is that there's never just one reason for doing something. There will be layers of meaning and uses behind this dictate.
And this explains why I ran myself ragged over the obstacle course the team used; Steve had to boost me over the wall obstacle and he was barely winded. I, on the other hand, left winded behind me early on. We end up in the gym. Tony is practicing Wing Chun with a master of the art. He doesn't acknowledge us, but I know he's aware we're there; Tony doesn't miss much when it's not about him. We encounter our first problem when Steve tells me to hit him.
"Why?" I asked. "I don't want to hit you." Steve insists, and I pop him on the jaw.
"Harder," Tony yells at me, not breaking form with his master. "I've wanted to do that for years!"
Steve frowns. "Tony's right. Harder. And this time don't hit bone with your hand, you could break the bones in your hand." I unconsciously clasp my hands behind my back.
Steve gets exasperated at me after a few rounds. "Why won't you hit me like you mean it?" he asks crossly.
"Because I don't want to hit you," I said blankly. "We're friends."
I think Steve really wants to swear.
I'm quite surprised when somebody grabs me from behind. Actually, I'm scared, and I fight dirty to escape, including raking my attacker's face with my nails. What can I say? I like to keep a nice manicure. I've got the guy down and I'm about to gouge his eyes before running away when arms encircle my waist and I'm lifted bodily away.
The guy on the ground sits up. "I think she can defend herself," he mutters. Natasha, standing off to the side, looks at me crossly as Steve warily lets me go. It turns out that he's from SHIELD and her sparring partner. I mutter an apology and he nods. The professionals are convinced I should learn a weapon, and Natasha's partner has an idea about which he's evasive, so I'll have to wait for the next time he comes out.
Steve is serious that I should do more cardio, and gets me up in the morning to chase me around the obstacle course. I'm actually strong enough, but the obstacle course makes me move differently than I do in my work, so it takes some getting used to to be hauling myself over things. It isn't too long though before I don't need Steve's helping hand. Part of that is also due to the rope climbing he makes me do in the gym. It's like high school gym class all over again, and Steve is in real danger of losing his status as my favorite Avenger. Tony times his workouts to coincide with mine and taunts me as I pull myself up the damned ropes and do the calisthenics. Steve decides he could use the extra work and makes him join in too, so he has two people glaring at him as he leads us in old-fashioned exercises like pull-ups, pushups, and jumping jacks. Tony gets to escape when his master shows up, though. When I'm just a mess on a mat at the feet of Captain damn America, Tony's master approaches me with a thing. It's rectangular and heavy, and I look at it and the master in curiosity before discovering that it opens. It's a metal fan. I get a short lesson in how to use it. I'm feeling a lot better about using it rather than the gun Natasha wants to train me with. She and her training partner show up partway through this lesson, and he's got a present of his own.
"It's a poleaxe," he says. Straight outta the Middle Ages. There's a nice long wood handle, a big spike on the end, a wicked curved blade on the side of the shaft, and a metal hook on the other side of the blade. It requires zero explanation for how it works, and since it was a common tool of foot soldiers, it can be learned by pretty much anybody and doesn't require a lot of skill to use. I'm feeling more fond of this thing by the second. Plus it doesn't necessarily have to be lethal. The guy gives me a flash drive with some descriptions of how soldiers were trained with this, and that's all. He and Natasha go off to the side and start warming up. Steve lets me stretch out and leave.
I get about halfway to the residence when I have to stop, take a break, and stretch again. I think I did too much, and by the time the residence is in sight, I'm trying not to whimper and I'm grateful for the poleaxe since I can use it for a staff. I hear somebody on the path behind me and hobble to the side. Steve doesn't say anything, just scoops me up and carries me to my apartment, where he deposits me beside the bathtub. I get the hot water running, throwing in bath salts and a huge amount of Epsom salts, and when he returns, he's got a change of clothes, including a skirt that will be easier to get into than jeans, my bottle of Advil, a couple of large bottles of cold water and one of orange juice from the minifridge. And my Kindle.
"Sorry," he says, abashed. "I'm not used to training anybody, so I went overboard. Next time we won't do so much." He takes my new weapons from me, drops them off on the table, then leaves after telling me he'll check on me later.
I step into the shower first to wash my hair, then I manage to get into the bathtub. I'm too tired to read, and actually take a little nap after washing down the painkiller with the orange juice and part of a bottle of water. I feel better about things a bit when I haul myself out, and I manage to walk slowly over to the caf for a late lunch, escorted by Sigurd and Torburn, who are concerned.
We skip the next day's workout the next day and take it easier the following session. I'm able to go to work afterward, which is good because when I was researching the tessen, the war fan, I came across an unusual weapon that I wanted to construct. It would require practice to use, but the urumi looked like it could be highly effective if I could learn how to use it. I would have two weapons that I could use from a little distance and one for close fighting, and that should satisfy Nick.