Chapter 55
Avengers Tower
July 2011
“Police report came through,” Tony announced.
Everyone’s attention snapped to him.
“Mott’s been dealing Chitauri weaponry and other shipments for the cartels. Doesn’t know which one, though; he claims there’s some kind of anonymity buffer and he never knows who his buyers are. They pay and he drops off the shipments. He’s just the middle man.” Tony shook his head. “I don’t buy that he has no clue who his buyers are, but the guy’s set up nicely behind nine layers of security. We won’t get in there to talk to him without causing a scene, so we’ve got to work with what we have.”
“I could get in.”
Tony stared at Loki.
The unwelcome guest stood up from the sofa and approached the table, where several Avengers sat in wary silence. “It would be a simple enough matter to wear the face of a guard or another inmate or some innocuous visitor and speak with Mr. Mott in the privacy of his cell,” Loki elaborated. “No harm will come to any of the guards at the prison.”
“I notice that he didn’t mention the inmates,” Clint muttered.
Loki smiled.
Clint glanced almost expectantly at Steve.
“No,” Tony said. “Sorry, drama queen, but you’re not going anywhere.”
“Tony, maybe it wouldn’t hurt,” Steve said.
“What would we owe you in return?” Darcy asked Loki.
He shrugged gracefully. “A small favor.”
“Not worth it,” Darcy said instantly. “An unspecified favor–this kind of bargain’s too risky.”
“I agree,” Bruce said.
Loki merely shrugged again and returned to his seat on the sofa. He was reading a book, but Tony couldn’t make out the title.
“Anyway. Those arms shipments aren’t traceable right now,” Tony said in frustration. “I’ll know more once they cross-examine him in trial. He’s pleading guilty to smuggling charges and he said he’d come clean about everything if he gets a reduced sentence. We need that confession. His servers were trashed; I barely got anything off them.”
Tony’s phone rang. A second later, so did Darcy’s.
“That is not a good sign,” Darcy said. They answered.
“Mr. Stark?”
“Maybe,” Tony said.
Steve rolled his eyes.
“I regret to inform you that Carl Mott died in transit this morning.”
It took Tony a few seconds to find his voice. “ What?”
“How?” Darcy demanded simultaneously.
“There was a mechanical malfunction in the transport vehicle. We’re not sure precisely what went wrong, but it blew up on the street.”
“Private property or public roads?” Darcy asked.
Tony plugged the ear not covered by the phone to block her out. “I assume you ID’d the bodies.”
“Carl Mott is one, going by dental records and clothing. One of the drivers survived with severe injuries. The other died in the ambulance.”
“Noted,” Tony said, and hung up.
Darcy stabbed the ‘end call’ button a second later. “Mott’s dead.”
“How?” demanded Steve, sitting upright.
“‘Mechanical malfunction,’” Tony sneered. “As if. Someone wanted him dead before he could talk.”
“There’s something more going on here,” Clint said.
Tony rolled his eyes. “You think?”
“What can we do?” Steve asked.
“Until I know more? Nothing, except keep going after those weapons shipments. The files and papers from that case indicate he’s been selling Chitauri weapons and other things for at least a month, but none of them have shown up on the market again. Right now, we’re stuck.”
Darcy sighed noisily. “Right now, I need to deal with the shit storm you three stirred up when an arms dealer launched SAMs in an urban area and then you killed eleven people getting inside the compound with no prior law enforcement coordination.”
“What, so we’re supposed to saddle ourselves with slowpokes who can barely shoot a gun?” Clint argued.
Darcy threw up her hands. “I’m not pissed at you , the stupid press can’t deal with the fact that we don’t do things the same way they’ve always been done, but next time maybe try to make it easier on all of us? Steve, you and I are doing a press conference tomorrow. I’m sending you a briefing. Someone show him how to open the files on a computer, because I don’t have time.”
She stormed out of the room.
“Well, that went well,” Clint muttered.
Steve sighed and dropped his head into his hands.
Tony poured himself a drink.
Darcy stuck her head back through the door. "Steve," she called. "I'm... sorry I snapped at you. Frustration. Et cetera."
"You suck at apologies," Clint said with a grin.
"Noted."
"I understand," Steve said, and managed a small smile. "I learned how to open files already."
Darcy sent them all a cocky grin and left again.
"We are so dysfunctional," Tony said to no one in particular.