2. A Dead Trail

354 8 3
                                    

It is not easy to make someone dissapear. Yes, you can hide them from veiw, conceal them, make it appear as if they are gone for good. But if you look closer, sooner or later they'll find your finger prints. Whether it's weeks ago or years ago, there is always something. If you know where to look.

This is the premesis I'm working on. Six months ago the planet was torn apart by a man who blew every mass murder off the scale in two days. What do you with someone like that? I wondered if Thor would kill his own brother. Hopefully not, I laughed. Yet  the US government had been searching for Loki since the end of the crisis, and it was a well known secret that they had not got very far. I suppose it's easy to avoid a whole government, but how about one person? It's easy to find an island in the ocean, but not a single pebble.

The logical place to start was the end. The end of the trail, that is. You can only carry on from the end. But the end of the trail was not exactly accessable to the public. High fences guarded the base of Stark Tower, the most modern ruin on Earth, I suppose. Wrecked tangles of cabled and wires lay like rusty barbed wire around an enemy base. Slices of torn concrete were scattered around the exposed foundations. As I watched a battered old bulldozer drove by, piling up the rubble. Yet still the guards sat vigilant at the base of the tower, keeping out unwanted visitors. I suppose I fell under that clasification.

It was impossible, as far as Mr Stark could see. But anything outside his vision was a different story.

The fance consisted of two layers: one blue, opaque fence with a singular gate, heavily guarded and topped with barbed wire. Not an option. I skimmed round the fence, surveying the layout and possible weaknesses. The barbed wire ran the whole length, but in a few places a small gap had formed where the roll of wire ended. Not wide enough to fit through, but just enough space to place two hands side by side and lift yourself over. I sat on a grubby bench that sat beside the wall and lay my head against the blue plastic. I could hear, easily, the heavy foot fall of the S.H.E.I.L.D agent roaming on the other side. When it passed, I counted. 1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7. 8. 9. 10. 11. Eleven seconds to pass both fences.

In between two street lights, the darkest place on the street, I stood facing the wall, waiting for the footsteps to pass. When they were just fading, I laid my hands on the wall. The reaction was instant: my fingertips stuck to the wall, not unlike a lizard's. I lifted myself up, and flipped over the wall.

But the next agent came early. I froze, not turning back, but risking my life instead. I attempted to use two powers at once.

The agent came into veiw, and did not seem to see me. He marched miserably past, not wasting a second glance on me. I was still stuck to the wall, and I was completely invisible. It was a feat I had not managed many times, but I knew the challenge of killing Loki would always be a test of my abilities.Using two skills at once tended to give me a headache - it was like trying to pat your head and rub your stomach at the same time.

I dropped to the base of the second fence, and landed below a warning sign:

Electric Fence: Danger of Death.

I didn't waste time trying to think of a way around. I launched myself up the fence.

I got half way up the fence in one leap. But the moment my skin hit the fence it began to ripple, and scales ripped across my skin. It burnt horribly, but I raced onwards, reaching the top in seconds and dropping to the other side. I buried my face in my hands, waiting for the scales to go away. Finally I felt the rock hard, reptilian skin fade away, leaving my skin perfectly soft, but warm. I shook myself, aware that I had caused quite an alarm. I lay on a rock like a sunbathing iguana and dissapeared.

Around me chaos had broken out. S.H.E.I.L.D agents ran about like headless chickens, searching the area frantically to find the intruder. It came heart stoppingly close when they checked my spot, but they didn't notice me. "Where is he?" a gravelly voice yelled, halting the panic. No one answered.

"Well?" he asked again. More silence. I heard the speaker sigh. "Just find him," he ordered, exasperated. I heard him take a seat on a nearby rock. And then he stood again.

"Mr Stark!" he said, shocked. "Can I help you?"

"What happened?" he asked, seriously. I wondered if the slightly intoxicated persona he was in the media was nothing more than a facade.

"Not much, really. Thought there was a break in, that's all..." the first man explained nervously. I wondered what kind of person Tony Stark was beneath his suit.

"Hmm, maybe it was a bird," he pondered, then wondered off. Slowly the patrols became regular again, and there search halted. It had been a mistake, as far as they could see. Nothing more than a pidgeon or a rat.

I peeled myself from the rock, shaking myself out carefully. I was sore and stiff from the climb over the fence, and I was more than a little lost. There would never be a chance to fully scope the last clue, and wondered what on Earth I'd been thinking. What exactly did I expect to find? Nothing of use. The destruction only hinted at what had happened. I needed solid facts, not simple ideas. This job was counter intuitive. I couldn't approach it as I would any other job.

Counter intuitive. I smiled, sudden hope after my pointless adventure. I knew just what to do.

Thievery, Murder and Mischeif (Avengers Fan Fiction)Where stories live. Discover now