บท 8: chapter 8
"Sir? What is it?"
Fury stared at the piece of paper in his hand for a minute that felt like an hour – he clenched his fists without really being aware of it as he narrowed his eye dangerously. When he finally looked up, Triers stepped back involuntarily at his dangerous expression. He gritted his teeth. "Get me every damn person on this vessel that has clearance on knowing about Harry. NOW."
As Triers left, Fury considered the message. Somewhere within the last half hour his phone had been stolen – stolen from right on his person – and switched out for this.There were only two possible ways this could've happened, both of which were enormously disturbing. One: Harry had managed to contact a spy on-board that was responsible for delivering the message, which meant a fatal flaw in S.H.I.E.L.D. security and a traitor - or Two: Harry had managed to come on board the Helicarrier himself and somehow personally delivered it, which was perhaps an even greater breach.
Fury strode over to his computer and looked at the pictures there for a little while – one depicted Harry looking relaxed as he leaned against a building somewhere in Afghanistan, a bored look on his face. He turned back to the note, barely capable of keeping his cool.
Those drones were a nice touch.
The bastard knew. Acting completely oblivious, their target had evidently figured out the Nano-probes and performed counter-measures; that had to be why they were dropping like flies. Likely he'd intentionally been teleporting around to get them off him, or had them outright disabled. Fury growled under his breath. He could have been on the Helicarrier, then – undetected.
I'd appreciate it if you approached me personally on matters of dispute, though. It's more civil.
He wasn't nearly stupid enough to consider talking face-to-face with a possible enemy – not to mention a super powerful one – and certainly not from someone who'd just gone through the most egregiously offensive ways of delivering the message. Breaking into the Helicarrier to deliver a message like this wasn't sensible. He might as well have given the note to Barton if that had been the only goal, as Harry doubtlessly had been aware of the man. No – if the teleporter had been here, it'd been with ulterior motives; spying on S.H.I.E.L.D. or to make a demonstration of power.
You know where to find me.
Harry.
P.s. Constant Vigilance.
There was no worry or fear expressed– no care at all of what he might do. Harry had to be aware that S.H.I.E.L.D. could track him: as long as the Nano-probes occasionally made contact, Fury would have a pretty good general idea of his location, and him showing up near Tony Stark's house would hardly go without notice. Yet - the man didn't seem bothered by the concept at all, as if he knew that he was beyond their ability to catch.
Then there was the implied threat - the message rang loud and clear. It might as well have read: 'If I can get this note into your pocket, I can do other, nastier things at any time.'
Fury smashed his fist onto his desk and it groaned under the stress.
Harry sat high on the top of the Helicarrier's tower, legs crossed as he enjoyed the grand view – the air was slightly thinner than he was used to, probably due to the altitude, but the scent of the sea from far below could still be detected, alongside the far closer mixture of burned jet fuel and a tinge of burning rubber. He could hear the distant heartbeats of the many people who went about their business, as well as the whine of the engines, and he could see with crystal clarity how the vessel glided slowly through the air. He sighed as he cancelled his Supersensory Charm; suddenly things were quiet again, the only scent a vague unidentifiable blend of questionable odours and his eyes in need of their glasses. It was unfortunate that there were no more permanent solution to increasing eyesight, Harry mused idly, as he enjoyed having such a clear view of things.
He'd intended to just leave, after he delivered his note and placed his charms – to fly back towards the mainland until he could apparate the rest of the way and crash at Tony's again. It'd taken him a bit longer to realize that that was currently a verybad idea – he'd get Tony and Pepper involved with S.H.I.E.L.D. more so than they already were by associating with him. Harry wasn't stupid – he knew Fury would probably not take his request lying down. Judging from the harsh words that filtered through his listening charm, it wasn't quite going as he'd planned in any case. He winced at a particularly loud curse.
His choice of where to place the listening charm had been brilliant, Harry thought in amusement. There was one thing that Fury would doubtlessly keep on his person all the time, and it was in a very useful position for sitting in on what S.H.I.E.L.D. was planning. He'd enchanted Director Fury's eye patch.
"I don't care if they're currently working or lying half-clothed in an alley, get them here!"
Harry rubbed the back of his head in embarrassment as Fury became increasingly angrier and louder while he occasionally muttered things so low even Harry couldn't catch them. He finally turned down the listening charm until it was no more than a soft murmur, barely understandable. True, he'd wanted to get Fury's attention – but this was a bit much.
Regardless of the wisdom of his choice in retrospect, sneaking in and out of the S.H.I.E.L.D. base had been a surprisingly nostalgic experience. It reminded Harry quite a bit of those other times he'd been infiltrating, even if Muggles hadn't been involved. Indeed, thinking back on his active years as an Auror he smiled weakly – those had been the better years.
Getting into the Auror program straight out of Hogwarts, Ron and he had gotten involved in short order, rolling through the usual requirements quickly, and even the practical exams had been doable enough between the two of them, though they'd frequently gotten Hermione in on it as well to study more obscure spells. It'd been a wonderful time, in which being Harry Potter was quite manageable and he could get away with a lot just because he finally defeated Voldemort. It wouldn't last, of course, but the memories remained, and they were enjoyable.
Ginny – Ginny hadn't been the beginning of the end, but she'd been the catalyst. He supposed that Ron and Hermione had long suspected something; they'd certainly invited him over a lot and spent quite a bit of free time around him. In the end it had perhaps only delayed the inevitable fall. His choice to leave the active Aurors in favour of a far less out-going profession had been the direct result: his voluntary isolation not far behind.
He sighed deeply, shaking his head as memories of those last days back home returned to him – the tear-streaked face of Hermione, Ron looking like he'd just swallowed half a bottle of fire-whiskey in one go, even George's storming out, no trace of a smile to be found. He knew they'd accepted, but he doubted they'd really ever forgive him for his selfish choice. Still – he was allowed a selfish choice for once in his life, wasn't he?Then there were the other memories. Fred had been less than enthusiastic; not like his twin, but it had been close. Sirius hadn't said anything, just stared. He'd anticipated their rejection, and they probably disapproved. Still – friends let friends make stupid choices.
Harry stood up. Thinking about the past wasn't going to help his current predicament, and if he was going to have any semblance of a normal life, he'd have to deal with it. Of course, he'd already realized that a 'normal' life was a fool's hope for someone like him. It was like ordering a bird to have a terrestrial life. Throw him off a cliff, and he'll still open his wings, even if he loathes the things.
Harry listened in on Fury again – the man was quite mad and spitting orders to what had to be a dozen different people who responded nervously to each statement; he recognized a few of the voices from earlier.
"Mr. Miles - get Agents Barton and Romanoff."
"Yes, sir – do we have a way of tracking him?"
"We're locking this place down and if that guy shows up again, we'll take him out, understood?"
Harry didn't hear an answer – he imagined 'Miles' had nodded. He rubbed his face tiredly, realizing that he'd been completely mistaken in his expectations of what S.H.I.E.L.D. might do; it seemed that Fury had actually taken his note as a challenge rather than an honest invitation. That would make things more difficult than they really should've been in the first place.
He really wished he could ask someone for advice, right about now. Unfortunately, he didn't have anyone that even had an inkling about any of this.
"Clint, talk to me," Natasha said softly, glancing at her neighbour. "Do you know what this is all about?"
"I know as much as you," Clint answered finally, shrugging. "Something must've come up – I think we should just wait and see."
Natasha wanted to ask another question but quickly closed her mouth as the door slid open and Director Fury stalked in, face blank. He stopped in front of the gathered group, staring for a few moments with narrowed eyes.
"At a quarter past four this afternoon – approximately eighteen minutes ago – I became aware of a major security breach on board the Helicarrier," Fury began. "It is, in fact, the largest security breach in several years, as it involved the removal of classified material from the premises."
"Did anyone claim the attack?"
Fury nodded at the short, squat man that had asked the question. "The infiltration and successful theft have been claimed by Harry, the unknown we have been tracing over the last months – this is why you are all here. Only this group had both access and knowledge about relevant information. Evidently Harry is no longer interested in leaving matters be and has chosen to directly go after S.H.I.E.L.D. It seems like it might be a show of power." Fury turned to his chair and dropped into it. "A top level security breach cannot be tolerated – data regarding several programs and people has been stolen, and attempts to remotely disable the media device upon which they are stored have had no effect."
"How did our security network get compromised?" A lanky man with greying hair wondered, adjusting his glasses. "Infrared sensors have been on the entire day – should they not have been tripped by an unknown?"
"One of the most likely scenarios is an internal leak – which means that someone in this room may be responsible for the breach. I must insist that everyone consent to having their person and quarters searched for the missing items or communications with persons on the outside." He looked dispassionately over the group. "If someone here is responsible, they will be court-martialled, and prison is the likeliest location you would end up. Confessing would help decrease your sentence."
Nobody spoke – Natasha raised an eyebrow to Barton and he shrugged.
"Very well. Security throughout the Helicarrier will be going up and the upper decks in particular need to be checked more often – in the event that no S.H.I.E.L.D. traitor was involved, our cameras and sensors clearly weren't up to the job, as the culprit got in and out without our knowledge."
Natasha turned to Barton with a scowl. "I don't believe a word of this. Harry just decided to up and steal from the Helicarrier one day? How would he even be aware of its existence? I think caution just turned into paranoia."
"Your – 'friend' is able to teleport," Clint pointed out with a whisper. "He certainly didn't tell you about that particular gift, did he? The Director was expecting something like this theft, as he's been on edge for a while; clearly this Harry of yours is a little less innocent and carefree than one might be led to believe. I'm not all that surprised."
Natasha sighed, not speaking for a little while as she listened with half an ear to the director giving orders to the techies. "If itis Harry, he must've finally gotten tired of S.H.I.E.L.D. following him around, and decided to take action. I would guess it was something you did."
"Me?" Barton looked positively affronted by the idea.
"You were the last one to follow him, weren't you? Perhaps you annoyed the guy." She shook her head and smiled before she frowned and glanced at the Director. "I hope Fury realizes what a mess this could become if it's not treated properly, though. Friendly or not, anyone would lash out if someone tried to put a leash around their neck – and I think that Harry could do a lot more damage than we appreciate, especially if he actually managed to sneak into the heart of this base."
Barton scoffed. "This Harry is bound to be capable, but not that much. S.H.I.E.L.D. already got him once with the Nano-probes; if those had been designed to knock out instead of root around and spy, this situation would never even have come up." He sighed wearily. "You only spent a few weeks near the guy, hanging out in bars for expatriates, talking about nonsense. You never did see him cornered, did you? He never did tell you any of his secrets, either. Even the kindest of people might turn out to be a monster underneath."
"So melodramatic," Natasha muttered – she didn't know what to think about this new development. With S.H.I.E.L.D. actively hunting Harry, it was likely sooner than later that they'd meet again and probably from different sides of a cell's walls. Though she knew she should be impartial, trying to mesh this idea of Harry as a criminal with the one she'd met in Afghanistan and spent so much time with was difficult. She prided herself in her understanding of people – in the ability to manipulate them to her ends – and yet here she wondered if she'd been hoodwinked. Had Harry simply shown her the benign, slightly dopy side, and kept his claws hidden?Natasha was still considering the issue when the meeting ended – Fury's hard stare and sharp nod confused her for a moment as she walked out. She and Barton hadn't even been addressed. Suddenly her phone beeped and she quickly flipped it open – her eyebrows rose as she read the message. Turning to him she shrugged. "Here I thought he was paranoid before. Secret orders, seriously?"
"We're to leave tonight," Barton said, stuffing away his phone. "He must have quite a bit of faith in us, to entrust us with something like this."
Natasha nodded, reading over her mission objective at the end of the message, alongside the three people that'd be going with her. She wasn't surprised, but she did feel uncomfortable about it.
'Capture and retrieve Harry.'
Fury's phone was an odd little machine – Harry tapped the buttons to see if he could get anything to appear, but he constantly got the same annoying windows to pop up. It was a bit of a surprise that it even worked, Harry supposed. He'd not actually intended to steal it, standing there in Fury's office with the bald man unaware of his presence. A simple Switching Spell to deliver his note without startling the S.H.I.E.L.D. leader or throwing off the cloak – that'd been his plan. He'd not thought about what to do with the phone – let alone realized that it might actually still work after the magical treatment of the delicate object.
He didn't know what he was doing – he'd used a mobile phone before, but it'd been way less sophisticated than this one, and by the time he'd gotten the hang of sending a message it'd made an unfortunate blazing exit. This one – there were little pictures and lists of options and a long, long list of people that were apparently on Fury's frequent call list: tapping different buttons just seemed to make things more confusing, as everything shifted around and new buttons popped into existence.
"Where's a Muggle when you need one," Harry muttered as he fiddled with the keys. "Maybe I should've paid attention to what Dudley was doing all the time…"
Trying to use Director Fury's phone had been a spontaneous thought – Harry had been considering going back into the Helicarrier to find what he needed, but with the increased guards that Fury had announced, he wasn't sure if he could get away with just pranks again. He would rather avoid getting into a fire-fight, too. It was bad enough that the people here had figured out about his apparating without them knowing about the rest, too.
"Ah!" he exclaimed as a lengthy list of recognizable words popped onto the screen – most he couldn't identify, but the presence of 'S.H.I.E.L.D.' was promising. Several other names were also in all capital letters: A.I.M. and HYDRA in particular. Just above the latter he found his own name, and he gingerly tapped the screen, hoping that would work; familiar photographs popped up, showing his own face. They were the same pictures that Fury had shown at the meeting Harry had been spying on, including the Afghanistan pictures – even a fun one that also had Natasha in it which he actually wouldn't mind keeping. After a few lines of text containing a last known location and physical details, the phone just refused to continue: it made a decidedly nasty sizzling sound and a vague whiff of burning plastic almost made him drop it.
Trying to go back to the large list – thankfully it actually worked – the phone briefly flickered again, and Harry nervously kept it as far from the cloak as he could manage, awkwardly holding it by the top: it was still Muggle technology, which meant it probably wouldn't survive for very long after being exposed to such magical items as the Invisibility Cloak (casting spells directly on it would probably make it explode, Harry thought tiredly. It wouldn't be the first time.)
Near the top of the list was another name that had caught his interest – another name of someone that S.H.I.E.L.D. was tracking – 'Banner'.
Banner. Another person followed by the same organization, listed in one breath with himself and with decidedly similar entries on Fury's phone: someone in the same predicament as him and evidently capable of keeping away for years at a time – perhaps someone worth speaking to. The majority of his photograph were blurry or downright distorted (on one he looked positively green) and most weren't even accessible – but there was something useful there. A last known location. Harry smirked as he grabbed his broom, diving off the edge of the flying aircraft carrier with a graceful leap, his cloak flapping around him wildly.
Fury stepped into the labs with a quick gait – several scientists glanced up and stared for a few moments as he stopped between them, and they leaned backwards from their computers and large spectrograph.
"Gentlemen – your help is needed on a serious issue," Fury started as a number of other researchers entered from the neighbouring room. "I require you to develop something that is capable of interrupting or preventing a process recently discovered – either biological or technological in origin – that allows for teleportation."
"Teleportation? We don't have that kind of capability," one of the elder scientists noted, frowning. "Even the crudest form of such technology is in its infancy."
"Nevertheless," Fury stated, raising an eyebrow at the man. "You are aware that there are other nations in this world, other organizations – advances can be made that may seem staggering, if we don't pay attention. In this case, we have a clue – the person capable of accomplishing this unbelievable feat has been infected with Nano-probes, Though they're currently almost all gone, they have been transmitting data on the subject's body state since they've been active, including at least several times while he was teleported. I want you to use that data – and find a way to stop it."
"You wish a container – like the other." A second man responded, adjusting his glasses. "Is it another one of – those?"
"Unknown – but doubtful," Fury admitted. "It's plausible that this target is capable of travelling straight into this base without setting off alarms – that must be stopped. Preventing access from smaller areas to this kind of travel has priority, so we can protect our most important data.""Understood, sir."
Fury started as his phone rang – he'd gotten a replacement quickly enough, but the ringtone was still annoyingly itchy. "What?"
"We've found the signal!"
Fury smiled. "Excellent. Where is he?"
"It was found in data from a few minutes ago, sir – it's coming from approximately fifty miles south of here. There was a brief but significant pulse. It seems that the subject's stopped whatever dampening device he was using – those Nano-probes that remain are transmitting again, if only occasionally."
"Fifty miles is very close," Fury commented, frowning. "It's practically around the block compared to where he's supposed to be. Harry must've been involved with the breach. I suppose that confirms it, then – he broke in and took the classified data."
"The signal's at a distance of eighty miles in the very latest data that just came in, and as far as I can tell is moving southwards at high speed. The data's very intermittent though; judging by the velocity at which he moves, either our target's on an airplane or covering huge distances with that ability of his, and we're catching his stops."
"Heading south – that's interesting… How long will the Nano-probes last like this? Will we be able to gain more information regarding his abilities?"
The technician sighed on the other end of the phone-line. "They should have a few more hours of life in them if this Harry is travelling normally. Only a few minutes if he's teleporting – but I don't believe that's really that important right now. There's a stronger signal that I'm currently tracking. Your telephone – it's heading in the same direction."
"He left it on?" Fury wondered, amazed. "Even the greatest buffoon knows that you can track someone's phone..."
"Looks like this one doesn't..." the technician replied, shrugging. "What can I say - a shut-in? Never watched a cop-show in his life?"
"Intriguing," Fury admitted, narrowing his eyes. "Perhaps he is simply so arrogant he doesn't care that people are following him - he hasn't shown any care before. He appears able to slip into one of the most well-protected vessels that exists, after all. Can we lock him out of the phone's functionality?"
"Signal strength is too weak – we can get its location, but what information we get is fairly garbled, and I think anything we send would not be properly received and fail to do its job. Still – we can extrapolate based on current trajectory and get some idea of the target's destination, especially if he keeps using the phone."
Fury nodded. "Relay all relevant information to Agent Romanoff and myself only until further notice – we're taking this one down."
"Yes, sir."
94 days since last incident.
Making his way through the bush was tough – hacking away at plants and wiry roots was tiring business and Bruce brushed sweat off his forehead as he forced himself to continue, his muscles protesting about a lengthy day of abuse.
He'd been gathering the rarest of Brazilian herbs for a week now, and it was still a mystery to him how the plants managed to grow only in the most inaccessible of places – high up on cliffs, in spider-infested caves or embedded so deeply into the forest that it took half an hour to even get through the mess of plants that completely covered them.
Ninety-four days – Bruce smiled to himself slightly as he pulled a hand through his tangled brown hair to get rid of some of the knots. He'd been trying new methods of control of late, and something appeared to be working, at least a little – perhaps it was the breathing techniques that he'd been learning from a local Jujitsu expert, though he was really not good enough that they could be having any effect – not that he was ever very much the type for martial arts. Well… perhaps the Other Guy was.
"Hey, little vira-lata, where are you?" Bruce said, glancing around the trees as he made his way out of the cluster of vines and twigs with his prize: three bright pink flowers, their leafs oddly twisted and somewhat droopy. He didn't know its name – wouldn't be surprised if it didn't have one yet – but it matched the description he'd read well enough.
The mixed-breed dog that he'd sort of adopted suddenly appeared, tongue lolling out of its mouth. Bruce really shouldn't have fed the little mongrel all those scraps. Now it seemed to follow him around wherever he went, even fairly large distances from Rocinha, the little shanty-town he called home these days. He'd been somewhat glad that the Other Guy never bothered with his 'pet'.
It'd been four years now - four years since the experiment, since his whole life had gone down the drain. He still missed Betty and hoped that someday things could get a little better again, but it didn't look too likely. Unless he managed to keep a lid on his volatile emotions, he'd wreck any place that he'd go to. Well, not him exactly - the Other Guy. The monster.
He finally put the flowers away in his bag, glad he'd brought along a good-sized pack to keep them in – soon he'd need to find somewhere to test these, as his own supplies were limited, and they wouldn't stay intact forever. Pondering what to do about that, he didn't pay much attention to where he was going.
"Oy, are you Bruce Banner?"
His head shot up and he gasped, heart suddenly thundering in his chest: a complete stranger had appeared before him as if appearing from nowhere, gazing at him worriedly. Bruce clasped at his chest, forcing his breath to slow – thankfully, his heartbeat stopped pounding in his ears and he slowly unclasped his fists - the new arrival just stood there, unarmed.
Someone had found him – all the way out here.
The dark-haired bespectacled man, dressed in what appeared to be remarkably thick clothing for the temperature was looking at him worriedly, frowning slightly. Although Bruce had gotten somewhat calmer, his pulse refused to stop ringing around his skull as he finally spoke, harsher than he'd intended.
"Who the hell are you?"
The man smiled then, sticking out his hand. "My name's Harry – I came quite a long way to talk to you."
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