Chapter Five: While the World Watches

"It is dangerous for a hero to think he is perfect. It is twice as dangerous for everyone else to think so."

-Anon

"So who exactly are we going to meet?" Natasha asked Clint. She spoke softly, without looking at him. They were standing next to each other on the subway, headed uptown, looking like two complete strangers who happened to be next to each other.

"James North," said Clint as the subway slowed. "My stop. See you."

Natasha was left gaping like a fish as he left the subway car. James North? With a start she reproved herself for breaking cover and left the station two stops down. She met up briefly with Clint on the corner of Fifth and Broad St, before veering off on another "short cut." She and Clint had developed this system for losing tails ages ago, but had never used it as much as when they were staying at Stark Tower. It seemed as if reporters prowled the perimeter day and night, honing in on anyone who went in or out.

Finally they stopped by the foot of an office complex somewhere on the outskirts of town. "Do you mean James fired-from-SHEILD-for-paranoid-tendencies North, or someone less imbalanced whom I don't know?"

"No, that's the one."

"You have such weird friends. How did you track him down?"

"Actually, he found me, after the throw down last year. He wanted to congratulate me for foiling some 'grand conspiracy' that happened to include the alien invasion."

"Clint, this guy thinks that AT&T is trying to take over the world. How is he going to help us?"

"Hey, he's crazy, but if there's anything going in SHEILD that we should know about, he can tell us."

"Do you really think Hill has anything do to with this all?" Natasha asked.

Clint shrugged. "She's been acting strange, but it could be because she's had to take over Phil's job. Maybe she's finally learning people skills. There's really not much against her. Anyone she had working on that trace I put on Di could be the person we're looking for, and all that's assuming we're not dealing with a major leak."

Natasha didn't like it. The argument made sense—it matched her own thoughts—but Clint wasn't usually one to think over all the angles like that. That's why they made a great team: Clint followed his brilliant but reckless intuition, and Natasha kept him up to date on the real information. Natasha tried to put it out of her mind; she needed to stop analyzing everything he said. She wished Di hadn't frazzled her that morning. It was putting all sorts of distracting thoughts in her head.

"Clint? You said Mariah was being very friendly lately. Just how… friendly is that?"

"Hmm?" Clint was scanning the street, presumably for North.

"Are you and Mariah…?"

"What?" Clint rolled his eyes. "Tasha, you need a vacation."

Natasha willed herself not to blush. Note to self: kill Di. Partners. Just partners.

"There he is," Clint pointed out a figure coming along the street.

Clint and Natasha approached the bus stop halfway down the street, where a smartly dressed man was waiting. He looked more like he belonged on Wall Street than this dingy corner. Crisp suit, fashionable hair, and a charming grin, Agent North used to be one of SHEILD's top "smile guys," working undercover to uncover leaks within organizations, even within SHEILD itself, before he had a breakdown that left him convinced the whole world was conspiring against him. His calm, bright eyes were only the result of mountains of medication. Author of nearly a dozen conspiracy books, as well as a few more that SHEILD had preemptively censored, James North was a veritable magnet for scandalous information. Natasha could see the logic behind Clint's decision—to a degree. North could tell you something valuable one moment, and then regale you with something like the AT&T theory.

"Miss Romanov, Clint, it's a pleasure. I understand you have a few delicate questions for me?"

"Lots of questions, James, and I would appreciate it if they didn't appear in your next book."

James' smile tightened slightly. "Don't worry. This will be completely private." He gestured at the earphone he was wearing and the iphone in his hand. "Audio therapy. Do you mind?"

"Not at all. I trust you."

"You would do better to be a little more skeptical. If you knew half of what I know…"

"… I would never sleep soundly again. I know this lecture by heart. What I'm interested in right now is if Maria Hill could possibly be behind a plot against the Avengers."

"What's the motive? Is she working alone or is she leaking?"

"We were hoping you could tell us that."

"I have to know the details. What makes you ask in the first place?"

"I was ambushed while on surveillance in Phoenix, and someone tapped a secure phone of mine—both of which Hill organized. This team was good, James. You don't know how close it was."

James frowned and ran a hand through his hair. "I don't have anything on Hill. She doesn't have the imagination for something like that. You know she works best following orders. If she had something to do with it, someone else is pulling the strings."

"Any idea who it could be?" Natasha asked. She had already gotten over her skepticism. North seemed likable, helpful, and reliable, at least for the moment.

"Someone who has a grudge against the Avengers." James glanced at Natasha for the first time and caught her eye. She was surprised by the earnestness in them, as if they were encouraging her to find the answer, as if she was very close. James looked away, sighed and continued, his shoulders dropping slightly. "Have you thought about Fury?"

"Fury? He's the one who thought up the Initiative. Why would he want to destroy it?" Clint asked.

"It's not as if you six have been at his beck and call, is it? Perhaps he's regretting the idea. He has access to everything Hill does, and more."

Natasha's phone rang. With a nod to James and Clint to continue, she answered. "Hello?"

"Someone's playing Demolition Derby with the New York subway system," said Stark. "Cap and Thor are over evacuating survivors under Time Square; I'm headed there now. We need some back up to watch for more crashes."

"Didn't they shut down the subways?"

"They did; it didn't work. If it's terrorists then they've got really fancy toys. I'm leaving the kid with Banner. Can you two get over here?"

"Right away." Natasha hung up and addressed the two men. "Clint, we've got to go. Sorry to cut this short, James. Thanks for the information."

"What's the matter?" Clint asked.

"Cap and Thor went looking for trouble and found it."

James North remained standing alone by the bus stop after Clint and Natasha left. He glanced around idly at the tops of nearby buildings, not really expecting to see anything.

"So, are you going to shoot me now?" he asked.

"Yes," replied the voice in his earphone.

"Then I'd like to say something."

"It won't change anything."

"It will. You've made two big mistakes so far. I'd tell you to watch out for a third, but I'm actually hoping they catch you."

"I fail to see what mistakes I've made."

"You underestimate people. You're taking on the Avengers, and you think you're going to win. That's mistake number one."

"I know I'm going to win. It's hardly a mistake. What about the other one?"

"I'm the Master of Secrets. I carry enough sensitive information around with me to make the guys in the Pentagon lose sleep at night." James North smiled. "Mistake number two: you let me use my cell phone."

A bullet shrieked through the deserted street, and an iphone clattered to the pavement, sporting the message: "text sent."

"I don't get it," Natasha muttered, looking at the flames sputtering out of the subway entrance on Rue Ave. Beneath her feet the station was in ruins; two subway trains had conveniently collided at top speed. Fire engines and police cars had already arrived on the scene, along with EMTs and reporters, all the usual type of people who descend on these catastrophes. They were having trouble getting down into the station, which had partially collapsed after the explosion.

"What's the matter?" asked Clint over the comms. He was on somebody's roof, trying to spot maintenance entrances for the subway through the smoke billowing out of the station.

"Why hit Rue? Time Square I can understand, lots of people, lots of property, high terror factor. Rue Ave? There a hundred survivors down there, tops."

"They're not going to be survivors if we don't find a way down there. Help now, think later."
"Sorry to burst your bubble, Birdie, but she's right. We need to figure out how they're controlling the subways if the city's cut the power." Tony interrupted. "Barring that, if we know why they're doing it we can figure out who they'll hit next. There are hundreds of people sitting in those subways right now, waiting for some psycho to blow them up."

"Well, I don't see what you're doing to help, big shot."

"Boys," Natasha warned.

"I've got the maintenance entrances off of the city database. Closest one is out of service, sealed up. You're practically on top of it, Natasha. Fifty feet north. Get a big strong fireman to blow it open for you."

"Bite me, Tony. You two find the nearest one on the other side. Tunnel may be blocked." Natasha switched off her end to shut out Tony's next smart comment and headed in the direction of the maintenance entrance. One look at her face and a worry-eyed policeman let her cut through the barricade. Everyone was too distracted to give her more than a passing glance and a prayer for help. Most the city's emergency teams were already battling the bigger crash up at Times Square with Cap and Thor, and they were decidedly short-handed here. Despite the torrent of high pressure water flooding into the station from the fire engine, smoke—and now steam—still guarded the entrance of the station. The heat was oppressive, blasting the surrounding street in an almost physical wave. Everyone's faces were grim. Natasha caught site of a couple of firemen pacing helplessly and beckoned them over. Natasha was usually leery of working with other people, but this wasn't a one-man job. They followed her obediently, no questions—there were perks to this Avenger stuff. "They'll never clear the entrance. I'm using the maintenance tunnel. Come on."

"It's blocked; we already tried it."

Natasha glanced at the panel of scuffed metal on the side of the street. The edges had been cemented over awhile ago, and everyday grime had completed the job. "So let's blow it up."

She slipped a metallic box the size and shape of a bar of soap from one of her many pockets and set it down on the panel. She flipped the switch and backed away, dragging the disbelieving firemen with her. There was a small tinny noise as the box magnetized to the panel and began the ten second countdown. Natasha could not help but grin. She loved blowing things up. Clint always laughed at her and made some remark about girls and their toys, but he never lost to opportunity to let her do so during missions if it was tactically viable. After a satisfying bang vaporized the panel and surrounding pavement, Natasha switched on her comms, requesting a private link to Tony. She had to hand it to him—the communications system was considerably better than SHEILD's, probably because it had a semi-omnipotent supercomputer running it.

"Tony, did you see that?"

"One of your Widow bombs? Impressive enough, for an amateur. Mind if I take a look at them?"

"Not a chance." Natasha smiled. Tony had been trying the sneak a look at her gadgets since he had first seen them in action. Amateur her foot. "I'm going in. Is Clint alright?"

"We just got to the other entrance, so no chance to see how he does yet." There was a pause. "He'll be fine."

"Tony…"

"If you want it straight, I don't think he should be out here. Adrenaline is not something you can control. But you try telling him that."

He was right. There was absolutely no reasoning with Clint sometimes. "If anything at all happens to him—"

"—you're going to kill me, right? By now you should know I'm used to death threats."

"No, I won't kill you, but Diane might. Last time I checked she was the president of his fan club, not yours."

No answer. For once, she had knocked him speechless. How Di managed to stand Tony was beyond Natasha, but the girl had him wrapped around her finger.

She broke the link and dropped down into the hole in the street. "Come on!" she yelled up at the firemen. Starting down the small access tunnel, Natasha was almost immediately aware of the smoke wafting past her to the new outlet she had created. A strip of specialized cloth—another of her gadgets—wrapped around her mouth and nose fixed that problem. Her two firemen followed behind, flashlights out, helmets on.

The subway tunnel was pure horror. Two subway trains had slammed together and the one in front of Natasha had gotten the worst of it. The entire tunnel was filled from top to bottom with twisted, red hot metal. The heat was unbearable; the smoke killed any chance of visibility; and the noise—people's screams, the inferno's roar, and an eerie groaning from above—was deafening. Natasha carefully memorized her own steps so she could find her way back to the access tunnel. Unable to communicate with the firefighters, she let them spread out to do their job, hoping they were smart enough to do the same. Farther down, the tail end of the train was intact, and there were people inside. Natasha turned to beckon on the firefighters and found that they had dissolved into the smoke.

Scrambling for a grip on the outside of the doors, Natasha dragged them open a few inches. She couldn't blow them off without hurting the people inside. Pulling harder, she managed to open a person sized space and squeezed through it. She was greeted by a break in the screams. Pulling the muffling cloth off her face, she addressed the dozen people quaking inside: seven adults, a couple of teenagers and three kids. "I've got a way out. Everyone's going to be okay. Just calm down. Is anyone hurt?"

A stocky blonde woman stepped forward. "Bruises and scrapes, concussions later, the kids are getting the smoke bad. Nothing serious." The woman was scared, but confident. Natasha would bet her paycheck she was a nurse, off duty EMT, something like that. What a lucky break. It gave her time to think about a plan. If she could get everyone out at once…

Natasha gestured at the two teenage boys. Despite the life threatening danger, they had been ogling her avidly; she figured if they were alert enough to ogle they were alert enough to help. "Get those doors open." They jumped to obey.

Meanwhile, Natasha had pulled out one of her grappling lines and smashed it against the wall of the subway car. Flicking away the broken pieces, she took the ultra-strong line and tied it to a seat. "I don't want any of you to move until I come back. Then you can follow the line to the exit. Otherwise you'll get lost."

The blonde woman nodded and Natasha jumped down off the car and onto the tunnel floor. Finding her way back was easy; she was met at the exit by a crew of firemen and paramedics, who immediately bustled around to prepare for the coming survivors. When Natasha arrived back at the subway train, the nurse had already organized it occupants. Two adults escorted a woman with asthma first, gripping the line tightly and disappearing into the smoke in seconds. Natasha felt a twinge of unease over letting them go alone, but there was no danger in the tunnel that she had seen other than the smoke and other obvious, unavoidable threats. Next came the kids with their parents and last the teenagers. Natasha let the nurse go in front of her and followed, keeping an eye out for any more survivors.

"Natasha, how are things going down your end?"

"Fine. I'm nearly done. There weren't many people left on this side."

"Well then get over here. We've gotten a few people out of the tunnel and even more out of the train, but we've still got six cars to go and Jarvis doesn't like the sounds I'm getting from the tunnel roof. The station's a lost cause. Anything in there in a fine black powder by now," returned Tony without his usual sarcasm. Casualties tended to mellow him.

"Got it. How about Clint?"

"Nothing's happened. I don't think he could be happier unless he had something to shoot at. I heard from Cap and they're stretched pretty thin up at the Square. We better hurry this up."

"Be over soon."

Natasha allowed herself a sigh of relief as they entered the access tunnel. She'd gotten everyone out. Suddenly the line tensed behind her; she froze, instantly alert. A moment later one of her firefighters stumbled into view, grasping her line, an unconscious bundle slung over his shoulder. She relaxed.

"Is there anyone still in there?" she asked.

"No one I could find. I found this one by the station, but I couldn't get any closer. It's bad down there. I got lost; thank goodness I found your rope. Has Evan got back yet?"

The other firefighter must still be lost. "I'll go find him," she offered. The man nodded gratefully and followed the line past her towards fresh air. Natasha fixed her mouth scarf and headed the way he had come. She crept as close as she could towards the crushed station. It wasn't far—the heat was a nearly tangible wall that kept her back. "Evan?"she called.

No answer. Natasha crossed her fingers and headed towards a cooler locale, shouting the missing man's name as she went. A flicker of movement caught the corner of her eye and disappeared into the darkened end of the tunnel. "Evan!"

"Tasha, we've got a problem. Get over here."

Natasha hesitated, still itching to creep after the shadow. "I'm just looking for one person. I'll be over in a minute."

"The roof is about to cave, and we haven't got everyone out yet."

Natasha stopped. "How much time? Clint, are you alright?"

A moment later Tony cut in. "Hawk, you said you cleared everyone out of the last two cars! This party's about to bust and there's still people in there."

"I did. What are you talking about?"
"What's going on over there?"

"My scanners are reading eight people in the third and fourth cars. How'd did you miss that many?"

"Somebody explain—"

"I swear those cars are empty, Stark. You're scanners are broken."

"Stop arguing and get everyone out of there!"

For a single moment the comms were completely silent. If Cap at Time Square or Banner back at the tower had tried to contact them in the preceding seconds, they probably would've been drowned out. Tony's voice interrupted the silence. "Well, kids, this situation has officially hit the fan."

"Tony, tell me now—"

Natasha was jerked back to her own side of the subway by a jet of flame splashing into her side. Stifling a gasp, she lunged away and rolled to the ground. Another spurt of white-hot fire narrowly missed her head as she scrambled through the debris on the tunnel floor. She backed into the end of the subway car and dodged around the corner. The advancing spray of fire halted and Natasha wasted a few seconds rolling on the ground to put out the sparks dancing on her clothing. She glanced around the corner, mind racing. This was not some accidental explosion—she was nearly a hundred yards away from the fire and the station. Beyond her and the single subway car, there was only darkness, and whoever was throwing fire at her.

Natasha listened for the telltale clink of a weapon or hiss of a flamethrower. When nothing was forthcoming, she crept slowly along the side of the subway car until she came to the open doors. Ever so quietly, she slid one closed, until it pulled at the grappling line she had left there. Finger gently trailing the line, she crept away from the door.

A footstep. It was definitely a footstep. Or was it the fire crackling? Natasha chanced it; she yanked on the line, which pulled on the subway door and sent a metallic squeal echoing through the tunnel. Quickly, Natasha squeezed underneath the end of the car, struggling to fit into the not-meant-for-people gap between the tracks and the train—just in time. As soon as she was hidden, a figure whipped around the corner and jumped into the car. Fire erupted inside a moment later, with the accompanying ruckus. Natasha allowed herself a sigh and looked around for an escape. Instead, she came face to face with the missing fireman.

What was left of him. Clothes charred, skin seared away, recognizable only by the firefighter's helmet, his body was sprawled along the side of the tunnel as if it had been thrown there. Natasha's blood chilled at the thought of the temperature it takes to melt a fireman's equipment. She switched on her comms. "Tony," she whispered. "There's a creep with a flamethrower in my tunnel."

"A little busy right now, sweetheart. Our tin can took off with the Hawk and half a dozen civilians. Did I mention the heavily armed party crashers on board?"

"How can a crashed train take off? Half of it is stuck underneath the station."

"Well, when I catch the party crashers, I'll ask them. Meanwhile you're on your own."

"Why isn't Clint on the comms? Is he alright?"

"He's probably too busy shooting bad guys. If he was in trouble he wouldn't tell me; you take a turn babysitting."

"I told you to watch him, Stark!"

"I'm trying to stop this train from crashing into something else and killing everyone on board. Try and keep an eye on the big picture, Agent Romanoff."

Natasha sighed. He was right. Focus. Focus. Eliminate the flamethrower first. Catch up with the runaway train after. Natasha tuned out the noise from the fire and listened for the man's footsteps. Was he still in the car?

He was not. Natasha held very still and watched his boots stalk along the side of the car, coming to rest level with her head. Then he spoke.

Agent Romanoff was not frightened easily. She held it as a matter of professional pride that nothing could scare her. She could get angry, worried, nervous maybe, but she absolutely never panicked. At the sound of her attacker's voice, however, Natasha stiffened, gaze locked on the two black boots beside her head.

"Natasha, why are you hiding? Don't you remember the good old days?"

It was a soft, familiar, Russian voice, and it terrified her.

Di was furious. Times Square was merely blocks away, Rue Ave was just across town, and where was she? Stuck at Stark Tower, watching anxiously as smoke and fire erupted out of the two subway stations. She and Dr. Banner had exploited the movable screens in the lab to monitor the news coverage, anything Tony sent them, and the communications network. Cap had told them "to keep an eye on the big picture," i.e. do nothing.

Jarvis watched both the news and the city's databases for more crashes or other disasters, so there was nothing to do there. He handled the comms as well—Di and Banner missed half of them because they were "private links" anyway. It would have relieved Di of a lot of nail biting if only she knew what was going on. Of course, the Avengers didn't have the time to keep her filled in.

Banner steadfastly ignored all of her suggestions to go help; even her most convincing entreaties received only a "No, Diane." When they heard about the attacks, however, Di set to with renewed conviction.

They saw it on the news first. Figures in black, converging on both stations with grenades and other instruments of violence. The authorities put up a good fight, but, as one commentator put it "the money is on the Avengers."

Except that the Avengers, for lack of a better word, were getting trashed. Tony and Cap's reports flew back and forth, more to each other than to let the shut-ins at Stark Tower know what was going on. Snipers and other baddies had trapped Cap, Thor and a horde of civilians and police in the mouth of the burning station, and seemed content to sit where they were and shower their victims with bullets if they so much as peeked outside. At Rue, one of the subway trains had broken free of the wreckage and proceeded to race along the tunnel with Clint inside and Tony following. No one had heard from Natasha.

"Come on," Di began.

Dr. Banner shook his head. "We just had this argument. I still say no."

"Why not?"

"Cap told us to stay here."

"Cap doesn't think we can help."

"Cap is right."

"No, he's not. I can fly. You're practically invincible. If that's not useful—"

"I'm not invincible. The other guy is, and he is not making an appearance today, or ever again if I can help it. You know that, so stop pushing me, Diane."

Di sighed. Arguing with Dr. Banner was not a good idea, especially at the moment, when even normal people were getting worried. She just had to get out there and help, though. Di decided to come at the problem from a different direction. As far as she could tell, the doctor had a huge conscience. Di intended to apply a little pressure there.

"Dr. Banner, do you see what is happening out there?"

Tony Stark could not understand why everyone else in the world was allowed to violate the laws of nature while he wasn't. Take the stupid train, for instance: no visible means of power, half of it missing, and still it was racing underneath New York, trailing a train car that had broken in half pulling itself out of the station. It was going impossibly fast, fast enough that even the Ironman suit was having trouble keeping up. Every time Tony got close, the train would speed up, whip around a corner and leave him behind. It was infuriating; the darn thing was toying with him. What the heck was going on? As the train rounded a corner ahead of him, Tony slowed to a stop. "This is getting old. Jarvis, find me a shortcut."

"You recently passed a tunnel intersection. If you take the left side you should intersect with the train's projected route, sir."

So it was leading him in circles. Lovely. It was a miracle it hadn't hit anything yet. Tony sped back the way he had come and zipped down the left tunnel. "Cap, how's it going up there?"

"It's a rock and a hard place. The station's still burning and the enemy is still catching us wherever we stick out our necks. We've tried four different entrances and it's getting harder to move around the station. I think we should try and creep down to the next one through the tunnels. We've got to get these civilians out of here."

"Not a good plan. My runaway train is playing games; it might head your way and try to squish everyone."

"What else do you want us to do? We're running out of elbow room."

Tony hesitated. He hadn't figured that out yet. Still, it was nice to have Mr. Star Spangled Tights asking him for advice. "Hole up somewhere and try and figure out their angle."

Cap cut the link and Tony focused on the approaching sound of a subway train. He'd outsmarted it, alright. Tony tried for the third time to connect to Clint, and was surprised to get an answer.

"Stark, where the heck are you? I've got six civs back here and four guys trying to bust in from the next car. I took out three but there's one missing and it's making me nervous."

"I stopped for lunch awhile back and now I'm going to head over to the country club for a round of golf. Where do you think I am? I'll be there in a sec."

"You heard from Tasha? She won't answer me."

Tony was glad the spy couldn't see his face. No one had heard from Natasha since she had reported the "creep with the flamethrower." Tony avoided the question. "You still 20/20, Hawkeye?"

There was pause. "Just get over here."

Jarvis spoke as soon as Clint cut the link. "The train is deviating from course, sir. It is slowing down."

"What?" Tony glanced around at the mini map flashing along the inside of his helmet. The train was indeed slowing, it had almost rolled to a stop. Sensing mischief, Tony sped up—he could see the train now, only a block away.

"The train is changing direction."

"Yeah, I kinda noticed that. Let's not lose it again, Jarvis. Give me some extra power."

This time, the train did not disappear around the corner. Tony was gaining; he was close enough for the suit's infrared to pick up the signatures of a dozen people in the last two cars.

"The new route predicts a collision, sir."

"With what?" Almost there.

"The station at Time Square."

Oh crap. He had to figure out who was driving this thing. Tony was now close enough to consider busting inside to help out Clint, but something else on the scanners caught his attention. A highly concentrated dot of infrared farther up the train—Clint's missing man, perhaps. What was he up to?

"Jarvis, tell Cap we're headed his way. Clint, I've got to figure out how to stop this thing, or we're going to join the mashed potatoes up at the Square. I'm checking out a suspicious character in the front car. Do you mind holding the fort?"

"Would it make a difference if I did?"

"Probably not."

"You have two minutes to vaporize the jerk and get back here, Stark."

"You're very generous." Tony signaled Jarvis to put him up to max speed and he sailed past the front of the train. He turned around and slowed rapidly. A quick energy blast opened an Ironman-sized hole in the end car. The train was approaching rapidly.

"Sir, there's been a malfunction—"

Tony drew in a sharp breath as all the lights winked out and his suit powered down. Not again.

"Thor, we're in position. Are you ready?"

"I am fully prepared, Captain Rogers."

"On three, then. 1—"

"On three what?"

Steve Rogers blinked. Usually he was the one things had to be explained to. Despite the march of progress, however, some things didn't change. Just a simple 1 2 3—but of course, nothing could be assumed with Thor. "It's a human thing. I count; you go—"

"—on three. A starting signal—I understand. You may begin counting."

Steve took a deep breath, nodded at the waiting emergency response team behind him, and wished he could peer around the corner out onto Times Square. "1… 2… 3!"