Chapter Twenty-Seven: Secrets Are Meant To Be Exposed
This wasn't the team’s usual meticulously-planned
operation. Normally, they'd have spent weeks gathering intelligence, mapping
out every inch of the target location, and dissecting the security systems with
painstaking detail. But tonight, circumstances had forced their hand. The lack
of preparation left them all on edge, the electrifying atmosphere on the
Quinjet replaced by tightly-wound anticipation.
They'd have to brief on the move, piecing together
what little information FRIDAY had while racing against the clock. This
improvised approach went against everything they were accustomed to, but
sometimes, “you have to throw the rulebook out the window and trust in your
instincts and each other”. A quote, surprisingly, by Steve Rogers.
Tony engaged Autopilot and retracted the pilot’s
seat, joining the team and Maria via video. Steve leaned forward, his face
illuminated by the light of the screen, brow furrowed with concentration.
"What do we know about her location?"
Tony’s fingers danced across the holographic
interface, conjuring a shimmering 3D map of Eastern Europe. The team
instinctively huddled closer, the air thick with anticipation… and perhaps a
hint of dread.
"Target located," he announced, a pulsing
red dot appearing on the map. "Bucharest, Romania. Facility codename:
Bright Light."
Steve’s eyes narrowed. “Bright Light? But that’s…”
“Part of the CIA's network of black sites? Yes.
Officially, an off-the-books interrogation centre.”
Thor squinted, trying to make sense of the rapidly
changing information. “I do not understand. Why would your own intelligence
agency hide this prisoner?"
“’Cause what they're doing isn't exactly above
board,” Steve stated grimly.
Tony nodded, his fingers flying over the controls.
The hologram zoomed in, revealing a nondescript building nestled in Bucharest's
urban sprawl. "Exactly. These sites operate outside of normal legal
jurisdiction. It's where they send people they want to... disappear. Exterior
security is tight, but nothing we can't handle… It's what's inside that worries
me. No floor plans, no staff roster. We're going in blind."
“What do we know about her abilities?”
“Not much. Confirmed telepathy and telekinesis. But
I have a feeling there's more to it than that.”
“Telepathy and telekinesis? Sounds like a HYDRA
experiment, if you ask me… in which case, the goal could be to weaponise
her."
Thor scoffed in disbelief. “A dangerous game, toying
with powers they do not understand.”
“Agreed. We need to get her out of there. What's our
approach?”
With another push of a button, a new data stream
appeared, scrolling rapidly across the display. “Bucharest isn't as heavily
fortified as some of the other sites. It’s possible to go in quiet and extract
her before they even know what hit them.”
“And what of her allegiance? Can we trust her once
we've freed her?”
“That's a bridge we'll have to cross when we get
there,” Steve answered quickly. “Right now, our priority is getting her out of
there.”
“Cap's right. Whatever she's done or might do,
nobody deserves to be a lab rat."
Steve stood, his presence commanding the team's
attention. "Alright, listen up... We're operating without a net here.
Trust your instincts, trust each other. We go in fast, we go in hard, and we
don't leave until we have our target. Questions?"
Silence answered him. Each team member's face was a
mask of determination.
"Good," Steve nodded. "Gear up. We
hit the ground in ten."
“Hey, hey, wait!” Maria interrupted from the tiny
screen below the console. “Whatever you guys do, just make sure you bring Cap
back unscathed… I need him suited up and pretty for the President’s fundraiser
tomorrow.”
“Oh, no worries, Hill. This is a simple extraction,”
Tony assured, suppressing a smirk. “We’ll bring the princess back, unharmed,
right on time for the ball. You have my word.”
While usually good-natured and quite accustomed to
the team’s playful ribbing, Steve didn’t like that. It wasn’t so much Tony’s
comment as it was the vivid recollection of being used as a propaganda tool
during World War II. Used to boost morale, performing in shows and making
public appearances in costume. Especially given that now, several decades
later, he found history repeating itself.
The penthouse was silent as Lily made her final
sweep. She peered into Sarah’s empty bedroom, the uncharacteristically rumpled
designer sheets indicative of her hasty departure for the recording studio.
Down the hall, the guest rooms stood vacant, doors slightly ajar. Satisfied
with her solitude, Lily allowed herself a small, tight smile.
The lift chimed, its tone echoing through the
spacious living area. She smoothed her silk blouse, took a steadying breath,
and strode to the entryway. Richard Hartley, family accountant extraordinaire
first put on retainer by Harrison and Amanda Carter, stood there, briefcase in
hand. Lily slid her expertly crafted mask of maternal concern into place and
ushered him further into the penthouse.
"Richard, darling!" she exclaimed,
channelling her inner Stepford wife. "How lovely of you to come at such
short notice. I do hope I haven't pulled you away from anything dreadfully
important."
"Not at all… I assume we're here to discuss
Sarah’s accounts?"
Settling into the office, Lily crossed her legs and
smoothed her designer skirt. "Actually, I'd like a comprehensive review of
all her assets. You know how these young starlets can be… I just want to make
sure everything's in order."
Richard nodded, opening the first folder. "Of
course. As Sarah’s… well, essentially, momager, it's admirable how
involved you are in her finances."
“Hm, someone has to look out for her best interests.
Now, shall we start with her main checking account?"
“Sarah’s main account seems to be in order. This is
a breakdown of her investment account and savings… And then this large
withdrawal here is from her personal shopping account.”
As Richard continued his rundown, Lily’s gaze
drifted to the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city. Sarah’s face
beamed from a Chanel billboard in the distance, larger than life. Lily’s
expression softened for a moment, then hardened as she turned back to the
accountant.
“Alright, let’s transfer some of that money to the
family management account. For safekeeping, of course…”
“Family management account, got it. Simple enough.”
“…And then about her trust fund… Has there been any
unusual activity there?"
Richard paused, a slight furrow in his brow.
"Unusual? No, nothing. She hasn’t even touched the money Harry and Amanda
left for her. Is there something specific you're concerned about?"
"Oh, just being thorough. Can't be too
careful."
Richard droned on about interest rates and
investment portfolios, and Lily hung on every word as she scrutinised the financial
statements before her. So much so that she barely registered the soft whoosh of
the elevator. Her head snapped up to see Sarah striding in, all legs and
attitude, her face a thundercloud of rage. Sarah barely spared a glance for the
scattered papers on the table or the startled accountant, her gaze
laser-focused on her aunt.
“You vetoed my single?”
Lily’s eyes widened for a fraction of a second
before her composure snapped back into place. She rose smoothly from her seat,
placing a hand on Richard’s shoulder. "Excuse me, Richard. Give me a
moment, would you?"
Without waiting for a response, Lily marched across
the room and gently grasped Sarah’s elbow, steering her towards the hallway.
Sarah allowed herself to be led, but her posture remained rigid.
Once out of earshot, Lily leaned in close.
"Honestly, Sarah, I don’t know what you were thinking. The track is simply
too personal, too revealing. It’ll conflict with the public image we’ve
cultivated for you. And with great care, I may add. Revealing such personal
information could jeopardise your reputation and career."
“This wasn’t about ‘public image’. This was
for me. Releasing it was supposed to be therapeutic.”
Lily’s laugh was bitter and sharp. “Ah, and how do
you think Steven or James would have reacted to your beloved work of art?
You’re playing with the lives of others here too, dear child. This isn’t the
Sarah Carter show. I assure you, be releasing this single, you’d have alienated
yourself from those you love most.”
“Bucky wouldn’t have cared!”
“Let me put this in terms you’ll understand… You do
not have absolute creative control. We do. And based on market strategy, I’m
afraid it just doesn’t align with our long-term plan.”
Sarah opened her mouth to retort, but Lily cut her
off with a raised hand. "So I suggest. You. Drop it."
As Sarah spun on her heel and stalked out of the
room, Lily smoothed imaginary wrinkles from her skirt and turned back to
Richard, her smile firmly back in place. "Now, where were we?"
Richard, who was pointedly shuffling papers and
pretending not to listen, cleared his throat. “Right, uh… the transferral of
funds.”
“On second thought, Richard, let’s divert a
percentage, say thirty percent, of the main account into the shelf company I
had set up last year.”
“Sh– shelf company? That's an unusual move, Lily.
Are you sure Sarah approved this?”
“Richard, darling, I know what I'm doing. Sarah
trusts me to handle the boring financial side of things. Now once that’s done,
I wish to discuss royalties… Album sales, merchandise revenue, and the like…”
The Quinjet's engines whined to a halt as it settled
in a desolate, snow-covered clearing. Steve emerged first, his enhanced senses
immediately on high alert. Tony was already airborne, the repulsors of his suit
leaving swirling eddies in the snow.
"Alright, let’s move out," Steve ordered.
The rest of the team disembarked swiftly. Nat and
Clint melted into the treeline toward a camouflaged Jeep, Mjolnir cut an arc
through the leaden sky as Thor took point, and Hulk bounded across the tundra
with surprising stealth for his size.
Steve mounted his customised Harley, the bike's
engine purring to life. He followed Tony’s trajectory, awaiting intel on their
primary objective.
As the team navigated through the terrain, Tony set
eyes on the target: a fortress-like structure against a snowy backdrop. Upon
closer inspection, he noticed a barely-there distortion wavering in the air
around the building. The unexpected precaution gave him pause.
“So… uh… not to be an alarmist here, guys, but
remember the lightly-guarded facility we were expecting?”
Nat shared a look with Clint, grabbing an Energy
Rifle from the back seat. “I believe your words were, and I quote, Bucharest
isn't as heavily fortified as some of the other sites.”
“Great. Now she listens…”
Steve’s voice crackled through his comms. “What’s
the status over there, Tony?”
“We’ve got an energy shield around the main
building; it's disrupting my thermal imaging.”
“We need to get through that shield. Any weak
points?”
"Unclear. But we've got bigger problems."
Tony’s built-in cameras panned across the courtyard of the facility, capturing
dozens of humanoid figures moving with frightening precision through the
snowdrifts. “This place has more bots than a sci-fi convention. By the looks of
it, they’re autonomous security units… And they don't look like they'll
be bothered by the cold. We’re grossly outnumbered here, kids.”
Clint’s low whistle came through the comms.
“Wait a minute… The shield’s output is fluctuating
near the east side. I might be able to create an opening there.”
Thor was the first to encounter a swarm of bots. He
backed up and leapt, springboarding off the stone watchtower. He landed hard
and slammed Mjolnir down, the resulting shockwave knocking back the legion of
humanoids.
“Shall I summon lightning to overload it?”
“Negative! Too much juice might fry whatever’s
inside.”
Steve, close enough to feel Mjolnir’s shockwave,
grabbed one humanoid by the ankle and inspected it for a few seconds before
hurling it toward a tree with brutal force.
“Tony, what about these bots? Can we use them
somehow? Hack ‘em and… maybe use its frequency to disrupt the shield?”
“Cap, you beautiful genius! You know, sometimes I
don’t give you enough credit. Alright, I’m making my move. Cover me…”
As the team converged—Nat and Clint in the Jeep,
Steve on his Harley, Hulk hurtling through the forest, and Mjolnir pulling Thor
through the air—all violently attacking their way toward the facility, Tony
busted through the portcullis, blasting missiles at everything and everyone.
On the slopes of the mountain, Steve somersaulted
and flung his Harley at a Humvee filled with humanoids
“Tony, how’s it looking up there?” he grunted.
“Give me two minutes. Maybe three if–“ With a loud
‘oomph’, Tony was knocked off course, flying against the east side of the
courtyard. “Yeah, make that definitely three.”
Tony’s fingers flew over the touchscreen interface
embedded in his suit’s forearm. Lines of code scrolled rapidly as he probed one
of the humanoids' defences. Suddenly, its eyes lit up.
"That’s right, WALL-E, tell Daddy your
secrets…"
With a few more keystrokes, he hijacked the bot's
communication frequencies. He hit the final command, and a distant rumble
echoed across the snowy landscape. A streak of light arced through the sky,
colliding with the invisible barrier. For a moment, nothing happened. Then,
with a sound like static electricity, the distortion around the facility
rippled and sparked. The shield flickered once, twice, and vanished.
“And… we’re in! Shield’s down, kids. Let’s crash
this party.”
Sarah's suite looked like a Vogue photoshoot gone
wrong. Designer clothes were strewn across every surface, from the king-size
bed to the chaise lounge by the floor-to-ceiling windows. In the midst of this
fashionable chaos stood Sarah, frantically trying to stuff a handful of silk
blouses into her overflowing LV Keepall.
The soft click of Louboutins on marble made Sarah
freeze, a pair of straight-leg jeans dangling from her hands. She looked up to
see Althea standing in the doorway with an expression that screamed 'oh,
honey, what now'?'
Sarah sighed dramatically, collapsing onto the bed
next to her weekender. "They killed my song. Apparently, being real
doesn't 'fit my brand'," she air-quoted, rolling her eyes.
Althea took a step further into the room, her heels
sinking into the carpet. "How is connecting with your fans off-brand? That
song was like... Adele meets Taylor Swift levels of emotional."
"I know, right?" Sarah groaned, burying
her face in a cashmere sweater. Then, peeking out, she added hesitantly,
"But... maybe Lily had a point? This isn't just about me. It could affect
him, too."
“I’m so sorry, babe.”
Sarah shook her head gently, a small smile playing
at her lips. "No, it's fine. Can you imagine the tabloid frenzy if I'd
gone through with it? I'd be on the cover of every gossip rag from here to
Timbuktu. As if I need more haters picking apart my life!"
“You do not have haters! It’s all
smoke and mirrors!” Althea exclaimed. “The media is creating an illusion of
widespread dislike, disproportionately focusing on negative narratives. The
Everhart chick on the news, that Vivienne woman who interviewed you and Bucky…
They’ve single-handedly created a more hostile public perception than what
exists in reality. Casey is not doing a very good job, I can tell you that.”
Sarah let out a light, mirthless laugh. “Yeah, all I
took from that was ‘widespread dislike’.”
“Sarah, don’t torture yourself over a hypothetical
scenario. Your secret’s safe. Apart from the five of us—you, me, Lily, Cece,
and Nick—who would ever know?”
With a playful smirk, Sarah snatched up a sequined
top and tossed it at Althea. "I don't know, maybe a psychic? Ooh, or one
of those celebrity mind-readers on TV!"
Althea caught the shirt with a laugh. "Please,
if those charlatans could really read minds, they'd be living it up in the
Bahamas, not peddling their 'gifts' on late-night television."
************************
Secretary Ross stormed into the conference room, his
gaze boring into Steve’s composed features. “So, let me get this straight. You
extracted an enhanced individual from a foreign black site, and now you want to
keep her at the Avengers Compound?”
“That's right. She's not a threat. The poor girl
needs help, not incarceration.”
Tony leaned forward, his expression placating.
“Look, we've all seen what happens when you try to cage power like that. It
doesn't end well.”
Nat nodded. “We're equipped to handle this. Our
facility has the necessary safeguards.”
“Safeguards?” Ross snapped. “Against someone who can
potentially control minds?”
As Ross continued, Steve found his gaze drawn to the
large monitor on the far wall. On the screen, a live feed showed the young girl
sitting calmly in an interrogation room. Her posture relaxed and her expression
serene as she silently juggled toy blocks with her mind.
“She's not some weapon to be locked away. She's a
person who's been through trauma… With all due respect, putting her in the Raft
would be a mistake. It could push her over the edge.”
“Plus,” Tony added, “have you seen the compound?
State-of-the-art everything. It's practically Fort Knox with better Wi-Fi… Come
on, Ross. You know it’s the best option. Unless you want yet another enhanced
individual with a grudge against the US government?”
Ross narrowed his eyes. “If Wanda Maximoff loses
control, if she turns on you, I hope you’re all prepared for that level of
collateral damage…”
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