Doomed

Chapter Eight

Steve waved a hand at him. "The double agents working for those organizations are sloppy. I've known who they are for quite some time. Most often I feed them false information to give to their superiors. On occasion I've had to give them something small but legitimate that would pan out in their favor, just so their bosses don't think their covers have been blown."

Peter shook his head, trying to clear the cobwebs. "Wait," he said, "You're telling me you keep these guys on the S.H.I.E.L.D. payroll just so you can keep tabs on them?"

"You're missing the point, Peter," Steve said. "The agent working for Doom is actually good at his job. I have no idea how long he's been in place, much less who he is."

Scratching at the stubble on his chin, Peter said, "Can we get back to what this means for our current problem?"

Steve gripped the back of a chair. "It means we have to leave. Soon. Within the hour."

Peter felt adrenaline coursing back through his veins. "Good. I'll go get my gear and meet you upstairs."

Steve grabbed Peter's arm as he tried to leave the room. "Wait. You can't tell anyone that we're leaving or where we're going," he said. He let go of Peter and crossed his arms over his chest. "The rest of the team assumes we're going after Doom anyway, but they don't know that we're leaving right now. I don't know how far up the chain his mole has access, nor whether he's tapped into the Avengers' communications."

Peter raised his eyebrows.

"Once we're gone, we're going to have be radio silent with the rest of the team," Steve said. "No cavalry. We can't risk Doom's agent learning vital information or alerting Doom to our presence. Obviously we're just hoping to get in, get the data, and get out, but I don't see things going that way."

Peter crossed his arms. "Ok," he said. "You and me," he pointed at Cap, then himself.

"You and me," Steve repeated.

"On our own," Peter said.

"On our own," Steve repeated again.

"Busting into Castle Doom and getting Carol's cure back," Peter said, taking a step toward Steve.

Cap held up his arm, his hand cupped but open. "Damn right," he said.

The popping sound echoed in the meeting room as Peter clasped Steve's hand. "Let's do it."

XXXXXX

Half an hour later, Peter and Steve were both in their red and blues, meeting outside the Quinjet hanger. Steve had the shield strapped to his back, as well as his belt of extra munitions. Peter had put on his belt of extra web cartridges, as well as checking the spares in the web shooters to make sure they were full.

Standing outside the door, Steve said, "Are you ready?"

Peter was holding his mask in his hands. "Absolutely."

Steve nodded in the direction he'd come down the hallway. "You sure you don't wanna check in one more time? Medical's just down the hall. I've got to flight check the Quinjet before we can leave anyway."

Peter looked down at the blank lenses of his mask. His thumbs rubbed the stretchy red material. "No, I'm ok. You said we shouldn't tell anybody we were leaving."

A gloved hand fell on Peter's shoulder. "Peter," Steve said, "You won't be able to get any updates on her condition once we're gone." Steve pulled on Peter's arm, forcing him down the hallway. "Go check on her."

His footsteps were silent going down the hall, but they were slow. Peter wasn't sure about this. Taking on Doom with just Cap as backup? No problem. Talking to Carol one last time before leaving? He'd rather try to crawl up a water spout.