19: surmise

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Midgard

-

The gloomy, rainy day bathes the whole room in a cold light. The TV, volume turned down, fills the room with unintelligible dialogue. I can just feel myself dozing off when I hear something.

My relatively uninteresting and quiet, rainy Saturday afternoon is quickly interrupted by a raucous knock on the door.

Not again.

I clutch the TV remote and quickly turn the volume down, just to make sure someone really is at the door.

There it is again. Someone pounds upon the door to my left. Any harder and they might break a hole through it. I roll my eyes and stand up from the couch and take my time in answering the door.

I swing it open. Without bothering to see who stands behing it, I start. "I told you, I don't know—"

Wait a second.

Standing a foot away from me is a man dressed in cargo pants and a t-shirt. He's blond, and kind of short, with bright blue eyes. He looks average, but I feel like I know him . . .

"Nice to meet you, Ms Macintyre. I'm Steve Rogers. And on behalf of S.H.I.E.L.D, I would like to ask you a couple questions."

Steve Rogers. Mr. Captain America himself.

Completely dumbfounded, I step out of the door way so he can come in. "Y-yeah of course. Sorry, I just wasn't expecting—"

He smiles sympathetically. "It's alright Ms. Macintyre." He's so polite for someone from SHIELD. "You're probably still a little shaken by the circumstances under which we're meeting." Steve walks in and I follow him, softly shutting the door behind me.

"I can't lie— it's certainly been rough. But I don't care where she went anymore. I just want her to come home." I rub my arm out of uncomfort, almost like I am subconsciously trying to push away my feelings. "Please, have a seat."

Steve nods his thanks and sits down on the couch. I walk into the kitchen and turn on the coffee maker. It rumbles to life and begins to churn out a steaming hot, fresh pot of coffee.

"So, you're Allissa's roomate, right?"

I grab two mugs from the cabinet and set them down on the counter, a little harder than I intended. They clank loudly.

"Yeah. We've been roomates since freshman year." I don't look up.

"And you haven't noticed any odd behavior? She never said anything that would cause you to believe that she would want to run away or anything?"

I pour the coffee into the mugs and return to the living room, handing one over to Steve. "She's never given me any reason to think that. Allissa's always been a great student and friend. She's responsible, trustworthy, and I thought she was happy." I pause and emotion unexpectedly overwhelms me. "That's what's so distressing about this whole situation. I don't have any clue where she went."

Steve takes a sip of coffee and I see his gaze travel around the room. "Everyone we've talked to so far has said something along those lines. Which leads me to believe that she was taken."

I sit down across from Steve and quietly sip my own coffee. Outside, the rain pours upon the windows, filling the room with a faint drumming sound.

"But who could have taken her?" I ask.

"That's what's tricky about this situation. I've been working with the local police trying to figure this out. I've been talking to anyone who knows Allissa, just to see if she had, maybe an abusive relative, or relationship that ended badly."

"Well, things with her ex didn't go great. I think— I think he was pretty abusive. She would come home from seeing him with faint bruises on her arms and even her face. Allissa broke it off with him, but I had a feeling he was going to show up again." Old anger I felt about Evan resurfaces, and I can feel myself heating up.

He takes another sip. "Actually, Evan has some involvement in this."

I perk up. Curiosity takes over my anger. "He does?"

"Turns out that he saw Allissa . . . " Steve's voice trails off.

"What is it." I set my coffee down and lean forward in my seat. "You're hiding something. When was the last time he talked to her?"

His expression turns concerned. "The last time he saw her was . . . complicated. Apparently, he saw her at a restaurant downtown with a man." Steve pulls his phone out of his back pocket. He tilts the phone in my direction and I grab it from him to see the photo on the screen.

It's a grainy, black-and-white photo that looks like it was captured from a security camera. The date, time, and location are written in the corner. The photo was taken only a little while after she first disappeared.

The photo is taken from the view of a bar inside a restaurant. Across the room is are two figures: one that can easily be recognized as Allissa, and a taller man dressed in black. They stand close together, and she gazes up at him with a frightened expression.

Who is she with? I've never seen her with someone like that before.

What is she hiding?

"That isn't all, though."

I look at Steve again. "Wh— what happened?"

"Whoever was working at the restaurant called the cops later that night, after they found a body. Evan's body. Later that night, an employee saw Allissa and Evan walk into the restroom together, and only Allissa and the unidentified man left it."

I'm shocked and overwhelmed. I don't know what to think. There's so much new information that I can barely process it all. "Does that mean—"

"Yes ma'am. We think that the man killed Evan for unknown reasons. Possibly to do with Allissa and Evan's past relationship. But who knows."

I can't form words. My best friend is kidnapped. And Evan was murdered?

"This is where SHIELD comes in." He sits back in his seat again. "The man Allissa is with? He's on the SHIELD watchlist."

I can't contain a gasp. "He's on the what?!"

"He's an old Norse god; in particular, Loki."

Memories resurface from a little over 2 years ago. The TV, turned volume turned up, the news channel blaring updates on the attack on New York. Headlines flash across the screen. Images of bloodied bodies and fallen towers appear on the screen. New York became a city of rubble. All because of Loki.

I remember calling my sister, who had just moved to New York a few months before, right in the heart of the city. I was panicked and scared and I couldn't reach her number. Finally it picked up, and she was okay . . . but what if she had been killed?

"Loki!? Like the Loki that destroyed New York and killed hundreds of innocent people?" I put my head in my hands and try not to cry. "Did he take Allissa?!"

I can feel Steve get up from his seat and sit next to me, putting a comforting hand on my shoulder. "We can't say for sure. The important thing is that she didn't look harmed. She looked okay. But we're still going to do everything we can to make sure she gets back here safely— from wherever she is."

-

I grip the steering wheel tightly and try to focus on the road. But it's difficult. I can't stop thinking about this kidnapping situation.

I tap on the dashboard screen. "Call Natasha."

The phone rings and Natasha's voice answers. "Steve. What's up?"

I run my hand through my hair. "I just stopped by Macintyre's house."

"And?"

"She knows just as much as everyone else— nothing."

The phone is silent for a moment. "I guess that confirms our suspicions, then. What's next?"

"I guess we meet back up at the tower and try to contact Loki."

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