A Dish Served Cold - Part 1
(USA Sokovia Accords Headquarters, Washington, D.C.)
“Miss Potts… this… I don’t even know what to say,” said Everett Ross, who was fortunately unrelated to the other Ross charged guilty of treason, among other indictment, just a few days ago.
“We apologize if this all seemed staged, but all this footage were only accessible after the Council gave Miss Crowley the green light to intercept Scarlet Witch’s tampering on Dr. Stark’s mind,” Pepper explained smoothly. “As you know, she was busy preparing to give testimony on Thaddeus Ross’ trial and her own hearing a few days ago. These videos were taken directly from what she had seen in the Witch’s mind, translated into a digital format via Dr. Stark’s B.A.R.F. technology.”
Ross was pensively silent for a moment. “Miss Potts, what exactly are you planning with this… evidence?” he asked finally.
Pepper sighed internally. It seemed like King T’Challa’s sympathy for the rogues really did rubbed off on him. “What I am doing with it right now, of course. Reporting it to the proper authority.”
“I see,” Ross hedged with a visible gulp. “And… what is your expectation from us? If you don’t mind me asking?”
Too easy. “Well, we would appreciate a fair response, that’s for sure.”
“Fair?”
“Miss Maximoff is to be tried for her involvement in the “civil war” once the Council caught her, correct? We are giving you these footage along with the official statement from Stark Industries that we are charging press against Miss Maximoff for mental assault and manipulation, as stated in the Sokovia Accords’ 5th amendment.” She felt her eyes turning flinty and cold. “We also hope that the Council would try her for her involvement and actions as a part of a well known terrorist group, H.Y.D.R.A..”
Ross shifted nervously on his seat. “Ah…. And I don’t suppose I can convince you to… uh… go easy on her?”
This man was making it way too easy. “By “I,” do you mean “the Sokovia Accords” or “Everett Ross,” Mr. Ross?” she asked calmly.
“I… uh… Everett Ross, of course. Miss Potts, you can’t possibly deny the fact that this is nothing more than a revenge on Dr. Stark’s side,” he fumbled to answer, sweating profusely.
Pepper gave him her sharpest smile, one that had brought grown, rich, powerful men to tears multiple times before. “Of course it’s a revenge, Mr. Ross. But can you point out why we shouldn’t or couldn’t do it? Is it not more illegal for us to hide this kind of information? Stark Industries does not abet terrorism and any kind of criminal behaviors - as should you.”
“Of course, Miss,” Ross answered quickly, “it’s just… wouldn’t the people get suspicious? I’m not saying that these are fake, of course, it’s just…. How convenient it is that a woman that Dr. Stark saved from being held captive suddenly found information that benefited his… vengeance? And that it’s made possible for the world to see using his own technology, no less?”
“Oh, we are prepared for that, of course,” Pepper waved off the unveiled accusation, pulling out a memory stick from her purse. “This is the documentation and science behind B.A.R.F. technology. Here you will find that as sophisticated as it is, B.A.R.F. is inherently incapable of creating visual from imagination. Long story short, it only has the capability to access a long-term and short-term memory, via the hippocampus. Imagination, on the other hand, happens mainly in the brain’s occipital lobe, which Mr. Stark had deemed too close to the skull to be safely “hacked” using B.A.R.F.”
Ross looked stuck between confusion and dread. “I… see?”
“The point is, Mr. Ross, we are confident we can prove the legitimacy of our technology. Of course, the council is welcome to provide their own experts to check this evidence. In fact, we’d rather they do.”
“Very well, Miss Potts,” Ross said finally, “I will see that the Council is notified about this.”
She nodded regally. “Thank you, Chairman Ross. I think that would be all, so I’ll take my leave here.”
Pepper stood from her seat and started to walk to the door, but Ross called after her, weak but still imploring, “I can understand Scarlet Witch… but what of the rest of them?”
“Captain America, you mean?” she asked, turning back slightly.
“And Black Widow, Hawkeye, the Falcon… all those that sided with him…. Is the bridge truly burned, Miss Potts?”
She didn’t hesitate when she answered, “It did.” Ross flinched and opened his mouth, but Pepper cut him off. “Don’t be mistaken, Mr. Ross… we’re not actively searching for dirt to bury them with - after all, we’re all quite busy, too busy to be bothered with those… people. But really, we don’t need to. They’re quite adept at shooting themselves in the foot, and all we had to do is stop covering for them, and do our civic duty to both this country and the world.”
“Case in point?” Ross asked in defeat.
“Case in point,” she agreed.
“And Dr. Stark won’t raise a hand? Not even for old time’s sake?”
Pepper turned the door’s handle, and threw one last cold gaze backwards. “I don’t see the point in celebrating a toxic past, Mr. Ross. But you can tell his majesty that Dr. Stark’s sentimentality is neither his business, nor yours. Good afternoon.”
(Trinidad, Trinidad and Tobago)
Being with just one other person already made Steve nervous. Having that one person completely mad at him for some reason was doubly so. He’d given up attempting to breach the subject to Sam, and just opted to wait it all out instead. They both watched Ross’ trials in awkward and tense silence because of that decision, but at least Sam had stayed in the room without bolting out like a bat outta hell.
Still, Steve had felt the need to break the awkward tension. “See? I told you Ross’ a bad news. Good thing we didn’t bow down to him like Tony did,” he said triumphantly as the trial went on on the screen.
“In case you forgot, Steve,” Sam answered coldly, “it was Stark and the Accords Council that put him in trial.”
Steve stumbled for a response, but Sam didn’t even look at his direction. “Well, he should’ve done it from the start then!” he tried indignantly.
“Whatever,” Sam bit harshly as he stalked out of the room.
Steve was left dumbfounded. Sam… Sam had stuck by his side the whole time he knew him. And now, suddenly he was acting so mean just because of one news? Steve shook his head and followed Sam out of the room. Seemed like waiting this out was out after all.
“Sam! Wait up!”
Sam whirled angrily. “What do you want??” he spat.
“Why are you being so… so mean to me??”
“Mean?!” Sam shouted incredulously. “What’s “mean”, Captain, is the fact that you roped me into this gig, making me believe that we did the right thing - that we’re saving the world, when the truth is you’re doing this just so you can save your fucking boyfriend!”
Steve flinched. “Hold up, now, that’s not－”
“Don’t you dare lie to me too, Rogers. I was there with you at Triskelion! I dragged your sorry ass from the river to hospital! I stuck with you, thinking that you’re a good man that the universe seemed to like to fuck with, but guess what?! You like to fuck with people just as bad, you fucking liar!”
“What the hell, Sam?! Are you talking about… about what HYDRA made Bucky do? That’s not your secret to know!”
“Well, it’s certainly Stark’s, considering it’s his parents your precious Bucky murdered! But I guess Captain America is god now too, huh? Only you get to decide who gets to know which secret.” Sam was panting from his cruel outburst, but his next words came just as sharp. “Good news for you, Cap, you get to play god all you want now, because I’m out.”
Steve felt the cold of Arctic sea washing over him. “What… what do you mean you’re out??”
“Exactly what it means. I’m. Out.” Sam glared daggers at him when he moved in with his hands outstretched. “I refuse to stay in this bandwagon any longer, Cap. Full offense, but you’re not the guy that I thought you were.” With a huff, Sam slammed his room’s door on Steve’s face, ignoring his attempt at adult communication.
A few minutes later, he emerged, bearing his bag and falcon wings.
“Wait! Sam, please…－”
Said wings flared defensively just as he came close to Sam. “You wanna keep counting to ten with your fingers? Don’t you fucking touch me.”
“Look, is this because of that video? Sam, it wasn’t that bad, OK? I was defending myself and Bucky! If I didn’t stop Tony－”
“Do you honestly think he was trying to kill you, Rogers?” Sam asked mockingly. “Even if he wanted to make it long and painful, he could’ve just used his one off lasers at your knee caps and watch you bleed to death. But he didn’t, and I’m not sure if that makes him kind or stupid.” Sam crept closer, wings still in defensive position. “Trust me when I say that if you try to stop me, I won’t be as lenient.”
Sam stomped outside, and quickly flew away without even a second glance back.
Steve didn’t know where things had started to went downhill ever since he woke up, but he knew that this was Tony’s fault. If Tony hadn’t blown things out of proportion… If Tony hadn’t been so infuriatingly self-righteous…. Hell, if Tony hadn’t fought so hard against him in the first place, then none of this would’ve happened. It was Tony’s fault for being such a drama queen, like Clint had said once.
Steve sighed heavily. He’d wanted to move past this, but it’s clear that Tony had drawn his lines in the sand. Still, the Avengers was in need of his resources. If nothing else, Tony was good at providing for the Earth’s Mightiest Heroes. But if Tony thought Steve would let him play hero for one second longer when he got back home, he’s in for a big surprise.
Steven Rogers did not bow down to bullies. Especially not to Tony Stark.
(Classified Location, Trinidad, Trinidad and Tobago)
A handsome man, clad in black combat outfit peered through a binocular, completely indifferent to Trinidad’s harsh midday sun. Suddenly, he spot a winged figure taking off into the sky. “Heads up, guys. Falcon has been sighted.”
“Alone?” A similarly clothed woman with rich cinnamon skin muttered, breaking the silence.
“Yeah, he’s flying south… oh, wait. Is it only me, or is he really going to to that police station all by himself?” The man whistled appreciatively.
Another woman, dressed in white blouse, looked up in surprise from the card game she was playing. “Huh… would you look at that. Looks like minion number 2 still has some common sense left in him after all.”
“Do we need to escort him or something? Because I am not doing that,” scoffed her opponent, who was looking down unhappily at his hand.
A pair of twins that were, somehow, floating cross-legged at the back of the room perked up. “Nah, don’t bother. Mr. Stark’s already given us his wings and drone’s override code. What’s he gonna do then? Punch someone in the face?” said the girl.
The boy shrugged. “Not exactly far out, all things considered.”
“Touche,” the blouse-clad woman admitted, before revealing a royal flush with a grin to the man in front of him.
Said man huffed, and leaned back. “Any news on Black Widow and Scarlet Witch, Ate?” he asked when the woman, his sister, already scrolled through her phone’s feed.
“Their plane just landed. People’s already posting videos about her having a mild breakdown in the cabin, screaming “I’m not a Nazi!” over and over.” she answered with a chuckle.
A tall, terrifyingly muscular man entered the room with a lightness of step that belied his stature entered the room. “Whoa, that Tracy girl is not playing around, is she?” he said, impressed.
“Transcontinental micro-illusion. She literally whispered in that witch’s ears from across the Atlantic. Undetected. I think I’m swooning, am I swooning?” quipped yet another girl, this one reclining casually against a guandao, twanging the pole arm’s blade every now and then.
“Well, we’re not getting one-upped without a fight, are we?” the first woman said playfully, striding across the room to perch herself on the card-playing man’s lap.
“Hell no,” he answered in a sultry, husky voice. The man craned his neck to nuzzle the woman’s hair, revealing an intricate tattoo underneath his shirt.
“Oh, get a room, you two,” their leader joked, tossing his binocular into a nearby pile of clothing.
The bloused woman stood and mock-saluted at him. “Sir, yes sir!”
“You’re not letting that one go, are you?” he groaned.
The tattooed man chuckled. “For the right price, Chief? Sure.”
“Yeah, no thanks. I don’t wanna go broke at 27.”
“Hell of a goal, man. Hell of a goal.”
“Har, har. Get ready. It’s going to be 8 on 3, but I’d rather not take any chances.”
The floating boy cut, “Actually, Boss? It’s gonna be 8 on 2.”
“Hmm? Update from the Council?” the Large man looked up from where he was shuffling through his pack.
“Yeah, it’s just in. Looks like our little red wasn’t just getting trolled in the plane, she got her mind screened too!”
“SI just gave the Council some… incriminating evidence of the Witch’s past,” his twin continued.
“Short version? That whole Ultron mess was basically her fault,” he concluded, looking a little sick.
The girl with guandao raised her eyebrow. “Oh, dear. How surprising,” she deadpanned.
“Also, she’s HYDRA,” the floating girl added.
Silence.
“Holy shit,” the large man said finally.
“Yeah, I know. The council just cranked their threat level to S class,” said the twin boy.
The woman in blouse groaned. “They’re going to blast that on the news, huh?”
“Well, that is one way to make the Widow go AWOL,” answered the floating girl with a shrug.
“It’s gonna make the Witch skittish, though,” the cinnamon-skinned woman noted.
“Good. All the more reason for us not to hold back,” said her companion confidently, even though his hands wrapped a little more tightly around her waist.
“You sure you can take her? Crazy as she is, she’s still undeniably strong,” The leader said as he strapped weapons after weapons around his body.
The tattooed man waved his hand nonchalantly. “Relax, Chief. We got three energy projectors and three psychics here. Worst comes to worst, you can just stick an bullet on her head and call it a day.”
On his lap, his partner twist to raised an arched brow at him. “And let her get an easy death instead of making her pay her dues? No chance. Besides, someone’s got to make sure our dear captain is well cared for, right?”
“Okay, so you and Boss vs Cap, the rest of us vs the Witch?” the girl in the back asked, twirling her guandao.
“No, he can handle him alone. I’m gonna track the Widow. I’m not convinced she’s going to surrender herself to the police quietly,” she answered, finally getting up from the man’s lap to stretch.
“She’s slippery, though. You sure you don’t want my brother to go with you?” the woman in blouse offered.
“Yes, because my sun-themed, hyperactive fiance-slash-hero is the epitome of discreet take down and/or assassination. I’ll be fine, people. Baba Yaga’s got nothing on me.”
Their leader clapped his hands sharply, gaining their attention. “That’s settled then? Good. Stay sharp, they’re coming in a few hours.”
(Piarco International Airport, Trinidad and Tobago)
Most times, reading the political climate meant reading the actual lines instead of the implied meaning between said lines. After all, every entity in the world had their own breaking point, including the UN. And the bigger - and stronger - the organization, the more blatant they can afford to be about their intentions.
Natasha read and reread the official statement from the UN with a feeling of dread running down her spine.
“New evidence… involvement with HYDRA… denounced the main cause of Ultron incident… SI cooperation with UN investigator….”
Stark had sold Wanda out… and by extension, the whole Avengers Initiative.
Maybe she should’ve predicted this. Wanda didn’t make her hatred for Stark a secret… and while Stark had been showing nothing but remorse and guilt in the face of her hatred, she should’ve guessed that even Stark had his own breaking point. Stark was aiming for Wanda, but in the process, he also shoved the cross hair into her and the others as well.
She shouldn’t have followed Steve here.
She took a deep breath and closed the news apps on her phone. Right now, she was supposedly finding information about Wanda’s meltdown aboard the airplane. And she did find the information she sought: Wanda Maximoff had become a deadweight.
Logical course of action: abandon ship.
She was more than ready to do it. While Steve had been a good comrade, she knew that between her and Maximoff, he’d choose “Wanda the Kid” every time. Sam’s already voiced his displeasure ever since that Stark showed the footage from Siberia, and without her to cajole him every 5 minutes, she doubted he would still be there when she came back.
Staying would mean death, and the Black Widow’s first lesson was not to get killed.
The only problem with that, however, is the fact the Council was obviously rearing to get one of their “superhero” teams to catch them. And while none of them was on her caliber, sometimes quantity won over quality. She needed to find friends on higher places to survive. Someone not even Stark could touch.
She needed to bargain with the Council itself.
Well, she thought, time’s wasting. Better move now before Maximoff could read my mind.
Without even a backward glance, she slunk away through the crowd, mind already buzzing with plans. She needed to convince the Council to take her back… but to gain a position of power, she needed a lot of voices to vouch for her. She didn’t have that, for now, so maybe start slow? Offer the Council her service in teaching new recruits? Yes, that could work…. She’d pose herself as the mentor those amateurs would love, and then… they will vouch for her.
She changed her wig so quickly, nobody would’ve noticed, and got into a taxi to the port. Thankfully, her driver was silent and didn’t ask questions. She needed the quiet to plan her whole move, and she wasn’t above committing a grand theft auto to get the peace and quiet she needed.
She got into this mess in the first place because she didn’t plan enough. She got too careless, and now, unless she could pull this off, she’s going to pay a heavy price. She wasn’t going to make the same mistake twice - she would think of every detail, including what would happen after she was all buddy-buddy with the Council.
It’s risky, but she could start to take Stark down then. He obviously had no more lost love for his former team, if the dirt he threw Steve and Wanda’s way was any indication. No doubt, he’d have some saved for her too, but she wasn’t going down without a fight. If Stark wanted try and blackmail her, then two can play the game. Someone needed to tell the Council about Stark’s rouge A.I., might as well be her that did it.
Her taxi suddenly lurched as the driver slammed the brake in front of the port’s entrance. She bit back a curse, and payed with the paper notes from her counterfeit wallet, and walked in confidently. For some unknown reason, however, the port was… deserted.
Two muffled bangs rang from behind her, and she toppled down as her thighs were pierced by hot lead.Trapped… again. She growled in irritation. They weren’t supposed to find her this soon! She scowled at her shooter, a woman in her mid-twenties. She was beautiful… in an exotic kind of way - brown skin, piercing dark eyes, a dancer-like poise. Another Black Widow wannabe, in short.
“Who are you?” Natasha barked, refusing to stay down on the floor even with two holes in her legs.
“Srikandi, AERA,” she answered casually.
Srikandi. Natasha mused.
She had heard rumors about how when USSR had given weapons and information to their allies during the cold war, they’d had also gifted one particular country with the training regiment from the Red Room. USSR government had hoped to stretch their influence to Australia, so naturally, they stuck a deal with the closest country they could find - Indonesia. Of course, in the end, the communist party still got violently toppled. Last she heard, though, the government still hadn’t scrapped the project.
But if her sources were to be trusted, the regiment they had been using was incomplete. USSR hadn’t been keen on giving away some no name country their best weapon yet. Supposedly, they only divulge the physical aspects of the Red Room - combat training, physical conditioning - and some infiltration drill.
They certainly hadn’t given away the juicier bits - the ones that truly made a Black Widow. No seduction and manipulation tactics, no psychological conditioning, no nothing.
She must’ve seen the amused look in her eyes, because the woman, Srikandi, huffed a laugh. “You don’t think we’d just use your regiment as is, do you?”
“You can’t improve perfection.”
“Is that why you’re here now? Limping and desperate?” she mocked.
Natasha let her crackling widow’s bite answer the question.
Srikandi smirked and pounced forward, faster than her eyes could see.