Mission: capture and disarm

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***

2 May 19:35

Shield organisation's private airport

Peter Benjamin Parker.

The car stops and we amicably step out of the vehicle.

I look round the spacious hangars and landing strips, my eyes catching on a few cars. They appear to be refuelling trucks.

I notice a figure moving towards us from the hangar, and as I get closer, I recognise an old acquaintance.

- Agent Spider, Agent Wold, Agent Lux, - greetings, - calmly nodded the man in a Shield jumpsuit, who was once my weapons training instructor.

- Hi, Rup, how old are you, how old are you, how are you? - Rupert gave me an expressive look," Ahem, or rather, hello, Agent Reds.

My brother and sister ineptly restrained their laughter, but when the old corporal gave them a glare, it was silence and discipline. That's what discipline means.

- Soon fly-training, please follow me.

The agent turned round like an army man, and we followed him. I wonder, if I start marching, will he get angry?

I put aside my thoughts and walked calmly to the hangar.

Inside there were a lot of workers, preparing the plane for departure. I glanced at the machine and whistled involuntarily. The Quinjet looked amazing, the bird was almost glistening, I should give the Shield engineers credit, they made a great machine.

- You like it? - Rup said, of course he did, he's a gun maniac.

- It's a good fighter model of the second type, powerful engines, coded manoeuvre protocols, designed for a long flight," I remembered everything I knew about this model of technology, "it's a good bird.

- I agree," Reds nodded and opened the door of the room at the end of the hangar.

We walk a few metres and find ourselves in some sort of briefing room or meeting room. Inside, Nat and Barton, who didn't surprise me, and a man in a yellow and blue suit, who was a fucking surprise.

Here we go, Wolverine's here! Where the hell do they want us to go?! I thought this was a routine mission!

But I quickly put my emotions aside and return to my normal state.

- Agents," the Widow begins, "it's a pleasure to welcome you.

Everyone responds.

- Well, let's get started.

Romanova invites us to take our seats and as soon as the seating is finished, she switches on the presentation.

A portrait of a grey-haired, dark-eyed man appears on the screen: a hunched nose, a strong-willed look and a slight cold smile.

To my surprise, Logan, sitting three rows away, growls.

Who is this guy?

- This is Gustav Fierce. A defector. He used to be a former Shield agent, but he betrayed the organisation by turning out to be a fanatic of the long-destroyed HYDRA. We thought he was eliminated 16 years ago, but it turns out Firs survived. He was discovered in Berlin a few days ago by our agent, who will be waiting in Germany with more information on the area. Gustav was a brilliant scientist in biology, chemistry and robotics.

- Also a mad vivisector," Logan nodded from his seat.

Did he know Fierce?

- Either way, we don't know what the doctor has been doing all this time, so keeping him alive is a priority. Our mission, agents, is to capture and incapacitate," Natasha finished her speech, "any questions?

Rachel raises her hand.

- Agent Lux.

- How was Dr Fierce eliminated if Shield was sure he was dead? It doesn't make sense.

- Our agents managed to capture him in Catalonia, and their goal was to bring him back to America for trial, but something went wrong. Maybe Fierce managed to escape during the flight, maybe he planted a bomb, either way, the plane crashed in the Atlantic Ocean, taking the lives of all the agents as well as Fierce himself. At least that's what it seemed, because nothing has been heard from him since.

- Thank you, Agent Romanoff," the brunette sat back down.

- Any more questions?

The others were silent.

- Good, then get ready, the flight will take place in half an hour. Dismissed.

As everyone started to get up, I decided to take the opportunity to meet one of Marvel's coolest heroes.

- Hello, I'm Spider-Man, nice to meet you," I extended my hand to the mutant.

To my surprise, he only sniffs it back.

- You smell weird, kid," the sniffer says uncertainly.

Hell, he can't be talking about Raj, can he?

- Um, maybe it's my deodorant. - I try to reduce it to a joke.

Logan just hums and walks on by.

- Good talk, see you later.

- Don't worry about Wolverine," Natasha came up to me, "he's never been the best at keeping company.

- Really? He seemed like such a nice guy to me.

- Let's go, joker, - Romanova smiled.

- Where are we going?

- The development department did something at our request, - said the Widow, opening the door on which it was written locker room.

Let's go inside. A typical locker room for a sports centre, a smooth line of metal lockers, and on a few benches stands an unremarkable grey suitcase, made of plastic, I think.

- Open it," my mentor suggested.

I walk over, listen to my gut and open the locks just in case.

The suitcase contains an obviously modified jumpsuit of a Shield agent, and I don't even doubt who made the modifications.

- It's a tactical suit specially designed for you, consider it a welcome gift. It's official, welcome to the Shield.

- Thanks, Nat.

- Don't look so surprised. You didn't think we'd send you out in civilian clothes," Black Widow glanced at my red and blue spandex.

- I got it," I pulled out the present, "do you mind?

- What haven't I seen in there," the spy smiled and left the room.

Okay, okay, don't think about the cameras in the shower of the training centres, don't think about it.

Taking a closer look at the suit. It's like it was taken from Spider-Man: Far From Home, the same black tones with flecks of dark grey elements. Same mask, even the lenses are raised in the manner of glasses. From the unexpectedly pleasant changes - no cheesy half-gloves without fingers, but a good pair of fairly thin, but dense solid gloves. Also included were modified army boots, not so massive. The Shield emblem was proudly emblazoned on the right side.

I got dressed and looked to see what the suit could demonstrate other than aesthetic beauty. The lenses turned out to have a zooming effect and a night vision mode. It's funny, if I detach them, my mask becomes, in fact, a balaclava. Judging by the recess in the right part, the mask has a communicator built into it.

I managed to fit the native web shooters under my wrists without any problems, it seems that this point was taken into account in the design.

Unexpectedly pleasant moment became, lying at the bottom of the box, an unloading belt with a double shoulder holster, two Berettas, an army knife and some other thing, which, judging by the accompanying information sheet, is a wrist rocket launcher. That's what I didn't expect.

I put on all the good stuff: the Beretta takes its place of honour in the holster, the knife is fastened on the belt like an integral part, four magazines and two charges for the grenade launcher are placed in the unloader.

The grenade launcher is quite compact and I attach it to the inside of my right forearm.

Too bad I don't have a mirror, I'm sure I look great.

I walk out of the changing room and see Natasha.

- How do I look?

- Like a mercenary," Romanova answers me.

- Is that good?

- To some," the Widow snorts, "I'm kidding, it suits you very well. It's better than your rags. By the way, where are they and why did you take the suitcase?

- I left my suit in the suitcase, it won't be a problem, will it?

- Don't worry, you'll get it after the mission, but in the meantime, take the suitcase to the storage room.

- Cool, where is it?

- Follow me, - rolled her eyes Romanova.

We reach another room, where there is a pile of items, and I put the suitcase on a free rack.

- That's it.

We leave the room and go back to the briefing room.

- I forgot to tell you," Natasha grabs my shoulder, "I've been put in charge of this mission.

- Cool, congratulations.

- It's serious, Spider, - the redhead looks at me with a frown, - now it's not a training, but a combat operation, I need to be the leader for the whole group and my authority must not be questioned, do you understand?

- You mean?

- No "mum" jokes, got it?

- Yes, Agent Romanova, - I answer in Russian.

- And speak English," Nat added with a smile.

- Got it.

In ten minutes we start loading into the Quinjet.

The agents are doing their own things: Rup is checking weapons, Rachel is digging into her tablet, Rick is leaning back in his chair, probably, he decided to take a nap during the flight, Natasha and Clint take the place of pilot and co-pilot respectively. Logan has hunkered down in the back of the plane and is sitting with his head down, hands clasped together, praying or something, no way?

- So you're religious? - I approach Wolverine, thinking that my own way of talking might have a favourable effect on him.

- I just can't stand flying," Logan replies, taking off his mask. "Nice suit, was it a gift from Shield?

I wonder if you can tell from the emblem.

- Yeah, from him," I answer, looking at the mutant.

He looks nothing like Hugh Jackman, I could tell from his height, Logan's no taller than six feet, and he's about my shoulder height. And his face doesn't look like anything at all, something between a human and an ape, no offence to the clawed one. Wouldn't it be better if he shaved his tanks?

- No offence, kid.

I'm looking at the mutant with a puzzled look.

- I'm talking about the smell, and even though you do smell weird, you're not a bad guy," Wolverine held out his hand, "James Howlett, but mostly everyone calls me Logan.

- Like I said, Spider-Man, nice to meet you," I responded to the handshake. - So are you some sort of cavalry or why were you sent on this mission.

- I have a grudge against Fierce," Wolverine grinned maliciously, and let out his claws defiantly.

Uh, okay, Spidey Sense pleasantly prickled in his head, Logan broadcasting a truly beastly rage into space.

- Okay, that's cool," I look closely at the adamantium-coated claws, "Are you some kind of super soldier or robot? - I'm "interested."

- You really haven't heard of me?

I shake my head negatively.

- Good. So Fury keeps his word and the Shield doesn't have access to my case," Howlett retracts his claws and I watch his regenerating factor heal the cuts, "and to answer your question, I'm a mutant.

- Mutant? You mean like the ones Professor Charles Xavier wrote his thesis on? - I'm probing.

- You know about Chuckie?

- I've read his work. He's very familiar with the question phenomenon.

- I bet he's a mutant himself.

- Really? - "surprised."

- Come on, I'm sure Shields knows about his school.

- Apparently, this information was not part of my training programme - even if I knew about one mutant.

- What's your opinion?

- What?

- How do you feel about mutants," Logan asked interestedly, "in recent years they have been showing their powers more and more often. Most of them hide and hide, but society is starting to react, and often in a very negative way.

- I don't hate or fear mutants, if that's what you mean. Just reasonably wary? Yes. Like any man would fear another man with a gun. But I'm certainly not in favour of persecuting or destroying you, after all, many of the mutants can't simply control their awakened abilities, but they're still mostly innocent people.

- Some people think mutants are the new stage of humanity.

- Perhaps, but they are still people who have simply awakened a hitherto unknown genome. There are people with heterochromia, and genetically they're mutants, but does that make them no longer human? No. Same with some bloke who can shoot beams out of his eyes or fly.

- Compare conditional telekinesis to multi-coloured eyes? Interesting thinking, bro," Logan grinned.

- As best I can," I shrugged.

- You said "you," by the way.

- What do you mean?

- Aren't you a mutant yourself?

Oh, what conclusions you've drawn, my clawed friend.

- Last time I checked, I wasn't.

- And your powers? Don't look so surprised, Natasha told me, and I've been looking you up on the internet. All that webbing, sticking to walls, you call that magic?

- Well, what about the web, - I roll up my sleeve and show the cartridges, - technique and no fraud, I personally developed it. But as for sticking to surfaces.

I thought to myself for a second. You can't call it pure science, but there's a very conditional admixture of mysticism.

- Let's just say I wasn't born with these abilities.

- Like many other mutants, - Wolverine continued to bend his line, - they woke up in adolescence, am I right?

- You know, it's funny not to dissuade you, so think what you want, Logan, and I'll take a nap while I have time.

I go back to my chair and get comfortable and fall asleep.

***

3 May. 8:00 local time.

Berlin, Germany.

Agent Spider.

The flight lasted a little over five hours, and I ended up taking a nice nap, defiantly snoozing the entire flight.

The Quinjet landed at yet another Shield private airport. Still, it's nice to work for guys with dozens of offices around the world. Super spies with a capital letter.

We were met by several agents speaking English with a slight German accent, they escorted us to our cars and took us to the safe house. Still, we are on a mission and hotels are contraindicated if you are operating in a large group like ours. Most of the squad behaved as usual: Clint and Nat were serious and focused, but there was a joke here and there in their conversations. Rick was serious after the landing, but his sister had put the clipboard away. Rupert looked as if he'd been carved out of stone and sat staring at himself with a serious expression.

The only one who stood out was Logan, who sat down next to me and started telling soldier stories, suggesting that I go for a walk and he would show me the best places in Berlin and the best brothels.

Well, well, well, old chap, I'm afraid Berlin wasn't in the best condition the last time you were here.

Ten minutes later, the car stopped in front of a small three-storey building.

- Miss Romanoff, the entire building is leased to Shields, a meeting with Agent Dugan will take place as soon as he's finished at the centre, but I'm afraid that will be closer to the afternoon.

- Thank you, Agent Reinhart.

- Ma'am.

The shieldmen escorting us helped us get our stuff out and left.

- Dibs on the shower," Barton said, slinging his bag onto his shoulder.

- Clint, haven't you heard, the whole building's for rent, they're not just putting us in one room," she rolled her eyes, but smiled.

Nat rolled her eyes but smiled.

- Dibs on my best flat.

While the apparent commanders of the operation banter, I reflect on what I've heard.

Dugan. Isn't that Dum-Dum? Yeah, that's quite a nickname. Well, I hope it's a nickname. Except isn't he supposed to be an old man or a corpse? It's all so confusing in these multiverses. Maybe in this version Fury shared the Infinity Formula with him?

It's funny how sometimes facts that have been dormant in the back of my mind come to mind.

Okay, never mind.

- All right, people, choose a room and rest," said the Widow, hiding behind the door.

The others disperse with their usual movements.

Am I alone for the first time at the Shield's safe house?

I look around and go to the door at the end of the corridor. I turn the handle and step inside.

It's a nice flat, not five stars, of course, and it's not the same as mine, but I've been in worse places.

The living room is spacious, obviously connected to the bedroom, at least the bed against the left wall hints at it. A small bathroom, an even smaller kitchen, a closet, and that's pretty much it.

I walk over to the window and open it for air.

"What are we doing, Bearer?"

"Well, we're kind of on a mission, so flying around Berlin is cancelled, no shining."

"How about we just go for a walk?"

"I'm kind of keeping my identity secret, so I didn't bring civilian clothes."

My mental conversation with the symbiote is interrupted by a knock on the door.

I tense slightly and, listening to my gut, go to open it.

On the other side is Logan in jeans and a checked shirt with a bottle of whiskey in his hand. When did he change his clothes?

- Come on, kid, I'll give you a tour of the city.

What a surprise.

- Um, Logan, I'm not supposed to bring civilian clothes. Secret mission and all that," I'm duplicating what I just said.

- No problem, take mine," the mutant offers, scratching his chin.

- Okay, let me rephrase that. I'm kind of trying to keep my identity secret.

- Then you're obviously taking the wrong approach. If you wanted to keep your identity, you'd stay as far away from Shield organisations as possible. Or do you trust the Fury that much?

- They came after me. I didn't have much choice. And yes, you could say the secret identity is a kind of guarantee of my trust in Fury.

- So you're working for the shield for fear of being exposed?

- I'd say it's a mutually beneficial use of each other.

- And what do you get out of this symbiosis?

I hope that's a random choice of words.

- Are you kidding? Technology, knowledge, skills and information. Lots of information.

- You didn't know about me.

- Somehow I don't think 90% of Shield knows about you.

- Fair enough. So, are we gonna keep talking like women or are we gonna go?

- Why were you listening to me? I'm pointing at the suit.

- Oh, come on! Leave the gun rack on, take off the emblem, and everyone will think you're some kind of animator.

He's serious.

- You know, that's not a bad idea.

"Carrier, are you serious?"

"Why that's an okay option. My suit isn't designed to hide from the enemy in that sense anyway, so if I get recognised what difference does it make?"

I lay out my weapons and detach the Shield emblem, thankfully it's not sewn on. Now I'm just wearing a very, very, very, very stylish and unusual ski suit.

- Okay, let's go!