Chapitre 79: Chapter 79
From: Peter
Hey Ms Stark, I saw you on the news! It's so awesome that you're an Avenger now, is it true that you get Starbucks discounts?
From: Maggie
Honestly I hadn't heard about that, but now I'm going to go find out. Thanks, Peter.
From: Shirley
Go, Maggie! You be careful out there, being an Avenger doesn't mean you can't be cautious. By the way, since your birthday bash got canceled you'll have to come over and pick up the cake I made you. Let me know what time to expect you!
Marrakech, Morroco
"So. Maggie Stark's an Avenger now."
Steve looked up from the blueprints on the table in front of him, his dark uniform seeming to absorb the shadows in the small room. "I know, I saw the news."
Sam crossed his arms over his chest. "And?"
Steve looked up again, and there was a glint to his normally serious eyes. "And… I think it's great."
"That's it? A new member on the… on the team, and all you can say is sure, it's great?"
Steve sat back in his chair and ran a hand over his beard. His eyes were still glinting. "What do you want me to say, Sam? I think she'll be great, and if things were the way they used to be then I'd have asked her to join the team anyway."
"You would?"
"You wouldn't?" Steve cocked an eyebrow, and gestured to the TV screen in the corner, which – sure enough – was rolling the footage of the Avengers press conference. Maggie Stark leaned forward with a grin on her face to answer a reporter. She looked so different from the first time Sam had properly seen her face in that van in Germany. "You've seen her fight, you don't think she'd make a good Avenger?"
"Oh I know she can kick ass." Sam held up both hands. "I just thought you might have something to say about her… y'know, throwing herself headfirst into danger. You might recall that we spent months trying to keep her out of danger."
"Seems like she can handle herself," Steve replied wryly. The TV showed grainy footage of the Wyvern fighting with the Helicarriers in D.C. "And we can still keep an eye out for her."
"She signed the Accords."
The glint in Steve's eye did dim a little at that, and he leaned forward. "Yeah, I know," he sighed. "Seems like she's got the same idea that Nat did – keep one hand on the wheel and you can still steer."
"And look how well that turned out for Nat."
Steve sighed again. "Sam… the Avengers are the best defense the world has right now, and they're far better off for having Maggie on their side. As for the Accords… if the Committee comes after Maggie, then we'll be there when she needs us."
"Or Bucky'll have your hide."
"I think he's accepted that there's not much I can do to stop Maggie Stark when she sets her mind to something."
"He's learned from experience, I suppose." Sam sniffed and crossed his arms again as he eyed the TV. After a few moments, he added: "They better not start calling her 'the winged Avenger'."
Steve snorted. "Oh that's what this is about - you're worried she's usurping your position?"
"Uh, no, I just think it's important that people remember that I was the first Avenger with wings, and–"
"Sure, Sam. Let's get back to planning our surveillance."
From: Bucky
I gotta say, I don't like that guy Ross, but it was pretty great to see him having to shut up and listen while people asked you questions. Looked like he wanted to eat his own mustache.
You've got a good team, looks like they've sure got your back. And I'm sure you won't listen to me but please at least try to be careful. In the field, and with the Accords Committee. And if you can't then remember Steve's out there and he's got your back too if you need it.
From: Maggie
I will listen to you! Honestly, you make it sound like I'm deaf. And yeah, I rewatched the conference just for Ross's face. It was pretty great.
I meant what I said about the Avengers: they're a good team, and I'm excited to be a part of it. But I'm not under the illusion that there are only three Avengers left in the world. They're out there, and I have no doubt they'll be there when the world needs them.
Love you x
PS: I forgot to pass it along earlier, but Shirley said to make sure you eat enough, and to keep up your physio. I think she's worried you're going to walk lopsided for the rest of your life.
A few days later, Tony walked into the workshop to find Maggie perched on a stool, her chin resting on her fist as she considered a neatly folded dark blue tactical suit on the workbench in front of her.
"Having a stare down with your outfit, I see," he commented as he walked past, fending off U's attempts at getting in his way.
Maggie looked up. "It's standard issue," she said.
"The suit? Yeah, all the agents wear those. You worried it's not up to scratch?" He stopped walking and turned, his head suddenly full of combat specifications and damage resistance.
Maggie chewed her lip. "No, it's not that. The suits are fine, but…" she looked back at the lightweight suit, and cocked her head. "Honestly, the blue doesn't do it for me."
He blinked. "This is… a fashion issue?"
The corner of her mouth tugged up. "Kind of, I guess. But it's not so much fashion as it is…" her eyes gleamed. "I want to make a statement."
Tony knew the look Maggie got in her eyes when she had an idea, so he easily recognized it now. "Sounds like a fashion issue to me," he replied, and she rolled her eyes at him.
"Stop being such an asshole. You designed suits for the rest of the team, right?" She whirled her fingers and brought up a holographic design, just a basic outline. "Would you mind taking a look at my idea?"
Tony looked over her initial sketches and designs, her list of specifications, and her idea to make the entire uniform out of nanotech and house it in her wing moorings and those bracelets she wore all the time. "Huh," he said, and found himself nodding. His fingers itched to create, to fabricate, and he expanded her designs. "Alright, Maggot. Alright. Let's do this."
June, 2017
Bariloche, Argentina
"Alright, the lakefront is secure and we've got the hospital under control," said Rhodey as he landed beside Tony and Vision outside the cathedral, where the Avengers were coordinating their operation against the terrorists who had attacked the mountain city three days ago. It was a cold, bright day, and the local residents who'd fled to the mountains were already filtering back into the city.
"That leaves only the two leaders," Vision summed up, turning away from a conversation with a senior Avengers agent. "Maggie?" he called into the comms. "Have you located them?"
"Oh, I located the hell out of them," came Maggie's voice. Seconds later a shadow flitted over their heads and they turned to see two bound men in camouflage gear fall right in front of an Avengers armored van. The Avengers agents on the ground looked up, smirked at the sight of the Wyvern wheeling overhead, and then went to process the captured terrorist leaders.
After one more loop over the city square, Maggie dropped out of the sky and landed on the pavement with sure feet and flared wings.
"Nice suit, Wyvern!" called a nearby agent, and she grinned at them.
Her new combat suit was more dark red than black, reminiscent of her HYDRA uniform and yet so much more her. The dark red nanotech blend highlighted the strength of her body, lined with pockets and holsters for nearly anything she might need. She had her red goggles, of course, but she'd dispensed with the full-head cowl. Her face was bare, and her hair tied down. The suit did have an extendable cowl if she ever ended up in a fire or poisonous gas situation, or needed to hit extreme g-forces, but she preferred not to hide her face. She wore clawed gauntlets nearly identical to her ones from HYDRA (though these were nanotech) and her strong, lightweight black boots had slots for her heel spurs. Her energy blasters seemed small and innocuous on her wrists but packed a hell of a punch, as she was sure the terrorists would agree. She stored extra nanotech in the wrist circlets, ready to form new weapons as she needed them.
The suit was still fully capable of scaring the crap out of bad guys, especially when she flared her dark, sharp metal wings, but it didn't make her a monster. She was just… the Wyvern. An Avenger.
Vision and Rhodey nodded to her and went back to coordinating the start of the cleanup, but Tony cast a critical eye over her.
After a few long moments, Maggie sighed. "What."
The armor whirred as he shrugged. "I still think you should have put some gold in the suit."
"I'd rather eat it," she replied, then turned to Vision. "Okay, where do you need me?"
Working with the Avengers took some getting used to. Maggie was used to working in silence, sharing only the most essential mission details as she moved quick and quiet before a lethally efficient execution. The Wyvern and the Winter Soldier had never needed words.
But the Avengers' approach to missions was a little more… creative, was how she described it to Bucky. They discussed ideas and gave each other feedback, ribbing each other even in the very midst of battle (well, Tony and Rhodey did. Vision was a little more professional). And even as they teased each other, each member of the Avengers held each other up – they offered words of encouragement and support in the fight, patted shoulders and gave reassuring nods. They stuck up for each other, in the battlefield and in front of the Accords Committee.
Maggie wasn't used to it. But she loved it.
Tony worried about her, though he tried not to show it. He knew she could handle herself, but sometimes after fights he noticed that she was a little colder, a little more intense, until she shook it off and became his dorky little sister again. But he supposed violence didn't come so easily to her any more.
Maggie loved her wings, and her new suit. Wearing the suit made her feel finally like she was a part of the team – she felt strong, professional. She felt like she could handle anything. The suit didn't hide her like her HYDRA uniform had, it just felt like her. Like the Wyvern had gone through some immense metamorphosis over the last three years to become this: an Avenger.
Bucky was endlessly supportive, talking her through her low moments and celebrating her highs, and though they'd made the odd long-distance relationship work for them Maggie found that she missed Bucky a little more every single day.
Vision took breaks more and more often as the weeks and months dragged on, giving vague excuses to the team but confiding in Maggie about his and Wanda's plans. Maggie filled in for him most of the time, glad that at least someone got to go see the person they loved. The Accords Committee weren't suspicious of Vision in the way they were of her, so he escaped their scrutiny much more easily. Maggie wasn't jealous, just annoyed at the Committee.
One day – those became the words she and Bucky traded back and forth, a hope and a promise.
On one mission, in the sticky summer heat of June, Maggie found herself flying into another mission with the Avengers. She looked to Vision, soaring ahead of them with his gold cape streaming behind him, then looked from side to side at the metal men flying at her flanks. Tony's nanotech gleamed in the sunlight, and Rhodey looked like a flying tank with his shoulder-mounted cannons and heavy artillery. And then she paused to consider herself, wings spread wide and her heel spurs extended to give herself the extra edge of maneuverability in the air.
This was by no means her first mission as an Avenger, but in that moment it finally hit her just how much her life had changed. Here she was, soaring through the sky with her team, protecting people. It was what she'd always wanted.
When it came time to fight the Avengers worked together better than they ever had – they fell into a groove, seamlessly working with and around each other. Tony took point and they supported his leadership with their own advice. They swooped in, cleanly and efficiently dismantled their opposition, protected the civilians, and attempted to do as little damage to infrastructure as possible.
Later, in the cleanup, a little girl shyly asked Maggie for a high-five. Maggie complied, staring as the child's small white hand pressed against her dark clawed gauntlet. When the child rushed back to her mother excitedly exclaiming, Maggie grappled with the realization that she had become something that children didn't have to fear.
July, 2017
Maggia Base, Colorado
"Wyvern, status?"
Maggie slipped out of the musty warehouse full of shipping containers and into a narrow corridor, her boots soundless on the concrete. "Still clearing the northeast sector," she murmured into her comms. "We've still got thirty missing persons unaccounted for."
"They will be here somewhere," Vision replied. "They're more valuable to the Maggia alive."
"Bastards," Rhodey added. "Human traffickers make me sick. Good call following up that lead from your advocacy group, Maggie."
Maggie didn't reply, too focused on checking each corridor intersection before she entered it. Her teammates already knew well by now how much she despised human trafficking – it hit a little too close to home for her, every time she heard of a child kidnapped from their home and taken away to have despicable things done to them.
Her HUD blinked. "I've got something," she murmured, sliding along the edge of the corridor so the fluorescent lights didn't cast her shadow and give her away. "Looks like a… basement of some kind. I'm going in to check it out."
"Be careful," Tony replied. "This chapter of Maggia have some pretty concerning connections with the scientific community, and we don't know how that'll manifest."
"Understood." She slipped down a set of metal stairs – careful not to make a sound – and found herself in a long, dark corridor with a metal door at the end. "F.R.I.D.A.Y., can you scan past that?"
After two seconds F.R.I.D.A.Y. brought up a illuminated scan of what lay behind the door on her HUD. Maggie took one look at the human forms in fetal positions behind metal bars and darted forward. The door gave way under two shots from her energy blasters and a well-placed kick, and she paused for half a second to let her eyes adjust.
The sight turned her stomach. The basement was a wide, low-ceilinged room full of cages. The cages were box-shaped, only large enough for a person to curl up in or sit, not to stand or lie down. The people inside the cages wore thin, dark clothes, with no sign of life beyond the slight rise and fall of their chests. The whole room rang with silence.
"Ms Stark–" F.R.I.D.A.Y. began, but Maggie cut her off.
"I've found them," she informed the rest of the team as she rushed to the nearest cage and knelt beside it, her hand snaking in to touch the captive's shoulder and turn them over. It was a girl, probably no older than twenty, her eyelids fluttering in her sleep. Her skin looked waxy and pale, as if she hadn't been in the sunlight for a long time. Maggie's gut twisted and she took a deep breath. "Keep the Maggia busy on the other end of the compound and send agents my way, I'm going to try to get them out."
She stood up, her head spinning, and looked around.
F.R.I.D.A.Y. spoke again: "Ms Stark, there is–"
"Not now," Maggie grit out, and found herself moving towards another cage. The body inside was small, with one tiny hand curled around a metal bar. She dropped to her knees and reached through the bars to check the child's pulse. It was there: fluttery and light, but there. The little girl's eyelashes seemed so dark against her pale skin.
Maggie looked up. "Why aren't there any guards?"
F.R.I.D.A.Y. said something in reply but Maggie either didn't hear, or didn't understand. She put her hands on the bars of the child's cage and stared at them. Her vision swam. She needed to… she needed to break these.
She pulled, but the bars didn't move. Instead, her fingers slipped free and the world tilted, sending her crashing on her back. She blinked up at the concrete ceiling, which seemed to undulate and ripple before her eyes. Her ears rushed and roared with her own heartbeat.
"What–"
She closed her eyes.
Her eyes opened to a world ablaze with color and sound. She stood in the middle of a wide, gleaming dance hall, the light soft and decadent in a way that reminded her of some kind of old Hollywood movie set. Wide windows looked out on a sky glittering with stars. Maggie stood in the center of the dance floor, surrounded by laughing, beautiful couples who danced in circles around her. The band on the stage played jazz, so loud that Maggie felt it in her bones, and she had to blink to take in the spectacle around her.
"Fancy seeing you here, doll."
She whirled around, absently noticing the red dress that spun with her, and gaped at the man behind her. "Bucky."
He looked just like he had that first night they danced, smartly dressed in a navy blue suit with his long hair brushed and looking so, so soft. His grey-blue eyes glowed as he looked at her, and a small smile lifted his lips. His metal hand glinted. Dancing couples swirled behind him in streams of color, but Maggie only saw him.
She blinked, and suddenly she was in his arms and dancing, his right hand warm on the small of her back and his metal hand linked with hers. Maggie could barely breathe. The steps filtered back into her memory and she moved with him, stepping and turning and twisting. A bubble of something glittering, radiant, expanded in her chest. She looked up into Bucky's face, finally there before her, and tears welled in her eyes.
"I miss you," she breathed. She slid her hand up his shoulder to cup his jaw, like she had that night when she'd first kissed him. His heart beat slow under his warm skin. Behind him, a child with dark eyelashes pirouetted in a flash of golden light.
Bucky's eyes softened, became sad. "I miss you too, doll." He smelled so good, and the feeling of him there in front of her was dizzying. "But that's not your line."
In the corner of the dance hall a thousand lights snapped into existence, shuttering like camera flashes. Maggie winced and hid her face in Bucky's shoulder.
But Bucky stepped back and turned her, and she spun and spun and spun. Her head tilted back and she saw the chandelier, a big black Vibranium orb that hung on a chain. It glowed purple before her eyes.
"What's my line?"
Bucky pulled her in close the way she liked, so she was wrapped up in the flesh and metal warmth of him, and she felt close to flying. He bent his head and his lips brushed by her ear.
"Wake up."
She jerked awake to the feeling of hands under her back and legs. She cried out and instinctively kicked away, yelping when there was a short, sickening drop and then the hard bite of concrete on her side. It was bright, so bright, and the light speared into her eyes and made her blind.
"Whoa, whoa, Maggie. Are you okay?" Tony's voice. Tony was here, he would… she was okay.
She lifted her hand, squinting, and managed to block out the blazing light. She fumbled around, feeling the rough surface of asphalt beneath her, and struggled into a sitting position. A dozen technicolors flashed across her vision and she swayed. "Whoa."
A hand settled on her shoulder, and she blinked enough to bring Tony's face into focus. He stared intently into her eyes, his hand firm on her shoulder. But then a second later his face swirled into streams of eddying color like a Van Gogh painting, and Maggie blinked again. "Whoa."
"Maggie?"
She cast a sweeping look at her surroundings – they were outside, she thought, on the runway outside the… where had they been? The sun shone bright above them, and the air was cool on her skin. Tony wore his armor, and the colors hurt to look at. Her vision turned back to her raised hand and she wiggled her blurry fingers.
"Maggie…" Tony repeated, his brow creased. "Are you… high?"
"Oh, I…" she swallowed and closed her eyes, then had to open them again to stop the world spinning. "Yeah, I think I might be. Are you going to arrest me?"
He stared at her. "Uh, no."
A blast of sound pierced Maggie's ears and she winced, and would have fallen flat on her back if Tony hadn't steadied her. She heard clanking footsteps, and then Rhodey's voice. "Is she okay?"
"Her pupils are the size of saucers and she thinks I'm going to bust her for being under the influence," Tony replied.
Maggie frowned. His words were casual, but he sounded worried. He did that a lot.
"M'fine," she said, because Tony worried too much. "What…" she frowned, thinking through the fog clouding her brain. "There were… people. A child. What happened?" She almost said they were dancing, but that didn't seem right.
Tony's eyes softened. "The Maggia were pumping the basement full of a sedative gas to keep their captives compliant, and someone went straight in without checking the environment beforehand."
Maggie frowned again. "Stupid."
"Yeah," Rhodey said. "But we've vented the basement now and we're getting the captives out. How do you feel?"
She swallowed. "Blurry."
"Alright," Tony said with a sigh. "F.R.I.D.A.Y. says the gas is non-lethal, so you should be alright until we get you to Dr Cho back home. Let's get you up."
His metal hands moved to her arm and new, silver metal hands appeared under her other arm. They heaved, and suddenly Maggie's head was spinning and her stomach lurched, but she was on her feet. She staggered even with the armored support, her legs forgetting how to hold her weight.
"Okay Mags, that's it."
For a few steps across the tarmac she was fine, but then all of a sudden the hands on her became too much, constricting and cold and filled with memories of lightning chairs and forgetting. Panic flared in her chest and shot outwards, turning her cold.
"Let me go!" she cried. She planted her feet and pushed, shaking the hands loose, and staggered away. She couldn't think – she was... was this a malfunction?
Red-and-gold turned and held up his hands. "Okay, calm down," he said in a low voice. "We're just trying to help you. You're not in your right mind."
She held up both hands, warding off the blurry metal men. "Stay away!" her mind reeled, searching for a threat. "M-my boyfriend's one hundred years old but he'll beat you up," she mumbled, then held up her fists and squinted at them. "If I don't get t'you first."
The two men in front of her went rigid and shared a glance, and Maggie cocked her head. "I'm not meant to tell you that, am I?"
Tony sighed, and with a roll of his shoulders the red and gold suit retracted, leaving him in a dark undersuit that didn't hurt her eyes so much. "It's okay, Maggot, I already knew that. Your boyfriend already beat me up, remember?" He took two steps toward her.
She frowned at him. "You took his arm off."
Rhodey glanced at Tony. "You took Barnes' arm off? Which one?"
"Th' shiny one," Maggie slurred, listing sideways. "Liked that one, it made funny noises." She thought about it. "Other one's alright too, s'warm."
Tony made a face. "Eugh, okay, I don't want to hear this. Yes I took your boyfriend's arm off, Maggot, but you know damn well why I did it and we both know you don't blame me for it."
Maggie's eyes welled with sudden tears. "I don't," she gasped, and stumbled forwards so she could grab Tony's arm. He winced at her tight grip. "I don't blame you, I'd have done the same thing. I did do the same thing. I…" she blinked for a moment, the light and the talking making her dizzy. "I love you Tony, I'm so sorry, I'm–" she hiccuped.
"Oh geez," he sighed, and reached up to support her shoulders again. "Okay, we really don't need to be talking about this of all things while you're high. Let's get you back to the Quinjet and get you some water."
With Rhodey's help Tony managed to get Maggie back inside the Quinjet, though she staggered all over the place like a sailor in a storm. The drug made her see things: flashing lights at the corner of her vision, shifting shapes on the ground. They lowered her into a seat and strapped her in, and Tony held her hand as she drank some water.
After taking a long gulp, she pulled the bottle away from her lips and stared at it. Then, before Tony could stop her, she upended the bottle and poured it over her head.
He batted the bottle away. "Jesus Christ, what are you–"
"Y'know, Charles Bukowski said that people run from rain but sit in bathtubs full of water?"
Tony blinked.
Maggie shifted uncomfortably in her seat and grumbled: "I wonder if he bathes in his clothes. Goddamn asshole."
Tony rolled his eyes. "Are you serious? You can barely speak and you can pronounce Charles freaking Bukowski?" He shook his head at her and wiped her bedraggled hair off her face. "You're something else, Maggie."
"Where's Vision?" she blurted, suddenly leaning forward as if she might see him just outside the cockpit. Tony pushed her back down.
"He's clearing up, he'll be back soon. He's worried about you but we told him you'd be okay."
"Will I be okay?" she asked, her eyes wide.
Tony eyed her for a moment, his head cocked, then lowered himself into the seat beside her. She was still holding his hand. "Yeah, Magpie. You're going to be okay."
"Okay. I might sleep now."
"I think that's a good idea."
"Did you get that kid out of the cage?"
"Yeah, we did."
"Okay. Good night."
"Night, Maggie. Sleep tight."
When Maggie woke up the next day to a splitting headache and a mind full of embarrassing memories, she tried to smother herself in her pillow. But Tony, who had sat beside her bed in the medical wing all night, pulled the pillow away and told her how the rest of the mission had turned out. All the captives were being returned to their families, and the Maggia were off to prison.
"I'm so sorry," Maggie moaned. "I was an idiot for rushing in without checking, and then… I'm sorry you had to deal with me like that. I was… really stupid."
"Nah, it was a nice change," he said, punching her lightly in the shoulder. "Are you feeling alright? Still blurry?"
"Well I'm not high any more. I'm… embarrassed, I guess. I really am sorry."
"You don't have to be," he replied, and… there was far more weight in his words than she'd expected. Maggie met his eyes, and saw in their darkness that he wasn't just talking about her slurring and stumbling. She cast her mind back to exactly what she'd said, and… oh.
You don't have to be sorry. Tony met her gaze, still and serious.
She swallowed. "Oh. Tony…" she opened her mouth, searching for words, but she wasn't sure what she was going to say until she found herself saying: "Thank you."
"All good. And for what it's worth…" he glanced away for a moment, then met her eyes again. "I'm sorry too."
"You don't have to be," she whispered.
"Neither do you." They watched each other for a few long moments, until a familiar teasing look slid over Tony's features and he squeezed her arm. "So, Charles Bukowski, huh?"
Maggie groaned and pulled her pillow over her face again.
September, 2017
Stark Mansion, New York City
Maggie sat by herself in the room that had become her study in the mansion, sorting through piles of documents relating to a HERACLES case she'd been asked to consult on. F.R.I.D.A.Y. played soft music in the background, and a muted TV screen in the corner played the news.
She'd found herself a bit at odds the past few days, since the rest of the team had gone to an international law enforcement conference in Italy. Maggie had originally planned to go, but then the Accords Committee got antsy about her leaving the country while not on a mission, and uninvited her. So she'd taken herself back into the city to do some solo sightseeing, and to work on some HERACLES business. She didn't mind it that much – she loved Tony, Rhodey, and Vision, but being around them all day got frustrating at times.
Chewing on her lip, Maggie leaned back in her desk chair and her eyes drifted to the silent TV screen. Suddenly, her spine stiffened.
ATTACK IN QUEENS: LAW ENFORCEMENT ON THE SCENE
The headline scrolled beneath footage of a sandstone and glass building with the doors hanging off their hinges, as smoke rolled from the roof. After a second, the image cut to blurry, shaky footage of some kind of… metal man?
"F.R.I.D.A.Y., volume," Maggie grit out.
The TV volume came in just in the middle of the newsreader's report: "– after police received reports of a robbery at the Global Savings Bank in Queens at around three PM this afternoon. The situation then became a standoff between police and, as you can see, some kind of robot." The screen cut to helicopter footage above a four-lane road in the middle of Queens, cars abandoned in the middle of the street and people fleeing. The police had set up a blockade at either end of the street, their cars flashing blue and red. The footage zoomed in on the no-man's land between the blockades, on a glinting metal form. "Witnesses say the robot 'appeared out of nowhere' in the middle of the bank's foyer, proceeded to raid the safes, and then broke out the front doors. Police are baffled about how to deal with the apparently highly weaponized robot, which – oh, I'm getting reports that Spider-Man has arrived at the scene."
Again the footage changed, this time to what looked like a hand-held news camera on the ground behind the police blockade. People screamed, and Maggie finally got her first close look at the 'robot' – it was humanoid and stood nearly eight feet tall, glinting silver in the afternoon sun. Its limbs were blocky and well-armored: Maggie spotted gun turrets, spikes, flamethrower nozzles, and bulky armor. It didn't have a face, just a blank metal block at the top of its body. So not an Iron Man knockoff then.
The camera swung to film Spider-Man swinging down from a nearby building, his bright red and blue suit cutting through the drifting smoke. Maggie's heart leaped into her throat. At Spider-Man's appearance the robot widened its stance and then… for a second Maggie thought it was falling apart, but the metal pieces falling off the robot stopped before they hit the ground, shuddered, and then hovered back into the air.
Drones, Maggie realized as she spotted the spinning rotors. The drones swarmed into the air around the robot like angry hornets and started firing at Spider-Man, who zipped out of the way in the nick of time. Weaponized drones.
Maggie came back to herself with a jolt, and stood up so fast that her chair went toppling. "F.R.I.D.A.Y., what the hell is going on?"
"The robot appears to be a Dreadnought," F.R.I.D.A.Y. replied. "It's a scrapped HYDRA experiment."
"So what is it doing in Queens?"
"Someone must have found an old prototype and re purposed it. The Dreadnought was designed as an anti-infantry weapon; it's a structure of titanium steel alloy, with an artificial intelligence to guide it. It's strong, agile, and highly skilled in combat. Initial designs also indicate that it can be packed down to briefcase size, so that's likely how it was snuck into the bank."
"And the drones?" Maggie asked, rushing for the study door and flinging it open.
"… apparently a new addition."
"Fantastic. Call the emergency Accords Committee line for me."
The Committee picked up just as Maggie dashed through the front door of the mansion and fired up her nanotech. Her wings unfurled from her back, tearing through her shirt, and her uniform slid out from her wing moorings and bracelets and flowed across her body.
"Yes?" came Ross's irritated voice. Maggie cursed internally. The emergency line went to whichever of the Committee members was available and had the clearance to authorize Avenger action. She'd been hoping for anyone else, really.
"Uh, the giant death robot in New York?" Once her uniform closed over her feet, she flared her wings and leaped into the sky.
A minute of silence passed over the line, which Maggie used to gain height and get her bearings before jetting in the direction of Queens. She shot past skyscrapers and over busy streets, the wind in her face.
Finally Ross replied: "Emergency services are on the ground."
"Yeah, and Spider-Man, but it looks like they need all the help they can get. Can I get the green light on this?"
Again Ross met her with silence for a few moments. Then: "The situation seems to be under control."
She ground her teeth. "Ross, I've got eyes on the situation and it's hanging by a thread. They need backup, that thing is built for destruction."
"That's not your call, Stark." Another long pause. "I'm on the line with the rest of the Committee, we're going to send in the other Avengers."
"Are you serious?" Maggie veered up and skimmed the top of an apartment building, scaring the crap out of some poor soul on the roof. His small white face stared after her, mouth open and eyes wide. "The others are halfway around the world, it'll take them hours to get here. I'm in Manhattan!"
"There's already one enhanced person on the scene and his Accords approval is thin enough–"
"Ross, come on. Our job is to protect people!"
"You can't just go wherever you like, Ms Stark, we'll need approval from the NYPD. Hold the line."
"No–" she was met with honest-to-god hold music, and she growled frustratedly as she flew. "God dammit." She channeled her frustration by pushing her wings to their max and keeping an eye on the unfolding situation in Queens on her HUD – Spider-Man was flipping and diving through the cloud of drones, trying to get at the Dreadnought. The Dreadnought itself was advancing toward the north police blockade, laying down fire. She tapped into the police comms and heard their desperate calls for backup, followed by an order to evacuate their position.
"Come on, come on…" She shot over the East River and over the bustling brick buildings of Jackson Heights. She could see the smoke unfurling from the bank, and as she closed in she picked up the sound of gunfire.
She'd just caught a glimpse of Spider-Man, a red and blue blur somersaulting above a distant rooftop, when the irritating hold music stopped.
"Alright, Wyvern," said Ross. "You've got the green light."
She grit her teeth. "Great, because I'm already here." She hung up on Ross just as she shot over the last line of buildings, her wings spread wide and her eyes darting.
The situation had devolved into chaos: the police fled under the Dreadnought's onslaught of gunfire and bursts of flame, and Spider-Man desperately tried to get past the drones long enough to help the police. Dozens of web threads hung from buildings, lamp posts and the nearby elevated train tracks, from where Spider-Man had desperately swung out of the way of the ruthless drones.
Maggie took two seconds to assess the situation, and then she dove.
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone