OOM: Haiti

[spit_it_out]

In the end, he'd had to fly. Days of hanging around the port was starting to look suspicious, and the couple of people he approached weren't interested in selling passage to a guy with no passport. It figures, really. Shipping along the canal is watched, and he was stupid to think that it'd be easier to hop on a boat just because there's a lot of them here. He thinks about stowing away, but it's not as easy as it sounds - or maybe he just hasn't mastered the unsubtle parts of criminal behaviour. Stealing someone's uniform and creeping into a hold, not being noticed long enough for the ship to leave, dealing with what might potentially happen if he were discovered - he recoils from it. It might be something he'll have to get used to.

Not today. Today, he takes all the money he'd had wired to the Western Union office from his black transactions, as well as the cash he earned from helping a few people who weren't feeling well at the port. That wasn't as hard as he'd thought; when deckhands don't speak Spanish, or English, it seems they're quite willing to give a few bucks to a guy who can help, and save them a trip to a hospital in the city. He'd stitched a few cuts, reset a shoulder - it added up to enough to persuade a down-at-heel pilot with a rickety plane to make the flight to Haiti. He'd objected at first, thinking Bruce was asking him to fly without a destination, but he convinced him that he could file a flight plan. Just not ask for a passport. The guy shrugged, and took his money.

Getting out of the tiny airfield was more difficult. But hiding out, and slipping away unnoticed, wasn't so much difficult as time consuming. And the week was up; he had to get to the hotel today. That was the easy part - the difficult part was resisting the temptation to use the room reservation. No way was he going to stay in a place where S.H.I.E.L.D knew he'd be. But he needed the phone held there, and they would only do that for a guest. He got enough strange looks because of the state of his clothes when he appeared; not a chance would he hang around to answer questions. The most pertinent being, how would you like to pay, sir? 

So he took a room in a boarding house, little more than a bed with four walls around it. That was yesterday. This is today.

The floor is bare boards. The sink has a split basin that pours water on to the floor, and the whole place stinks of the crack someone's smoking on the floor below. He's slept, woken up, packed to go. Just a phone call to make first.

He dials the number, and waits. A childish part of him he didn't know he had, hopes this is waking Nick Fury up.

Comments

[the_man]

Someone picks up on the first ring. "You have reached S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters, office of the Director," says an overly perky voice, relentlessly cheerful even at this hour. "Your contact number has been authorized as secure. How may I assist you?"

[spit_it_out]

He's a little taken aback by the perkiness. Somehow, in his head, S.H.I.E.L.D. offices are dark places, where only solemn and miserable drones work, locked away from anything resembling normal life.

'Uh...Nick Fury, please. It's Mr Green.'

[the_man]

"The Director is expecting your call. Please hold!" There is a click, and some pleasant and unobtrusive classical music begins to play.

It's on a relatively short loop, though. It would start setting your teeth on edge after a while. (Probably on purpose.)

Bruce doesn't have long to wait. There's another click, and the music stops.

"Doctor Banner. This is Fury. Nice of you to call."

[spit_it_out]

'Seemed like the only way to get you to leave me alone.'

It's not as hard to be civil as he thought, though it's an effort to take the platitude at face value.

'So. Do I take you at your word, or can I expect the door to get broken down at any moment?'

[the_man]

"Doc, we would like nothing better than to leave you alone to live a happy, productive life. Unfortunately, we've all got a few complications to deal with."

A brief pause.

"And we don't have any agents in the area right now, unless the one who dropped off the phone got a flight delay. Now, can we talk, or are we still in the 'exchanging empty threats' portion of the conversation?"

[spit_it_out]

He sighs, and rubs the heel of his hand over his forehead, then smooths down his hair at the back.

'I think I've earned the right to be a little defensive.'

He can hear it in his tone. But he takes a breath, and makes an effort to get rid of it. If this is going to work, he should probably try and listen.

'Fine, OK.'

A pause, while he tries to figure this out.

'...look, I don't know what you want from me. If you want to leave me alone, then just do it. Less chance of 'incidents' like that. I get peace, the Other Guy stays away. I'm not sure what all this is supposed to achieve.'

Because the only thing he can think of that these people want from him, is what Ross wanted. What other use could he be?

[the_man]

"Let me send someone to meet with you. A calm, experienced agent who has seen plenty of action, not a bunch of wet behind the ears army assholes. Or another adrenaline junkie psychopath like Blonsky. You can have a short talk. He'll deliver his professional assessment that you are not currently a threat to national security.

"Then, I get off your back, and my superiors get off mine. Everyone wins. That's what I'd like to achieve." Fury's tone is still dry and collected, as if this could be any of a number of calls he's taken today.

[spit_it_out]

His tone helps. It always helps when Bruce isn't being treated like the focal point of anyone's investigation. Particularly when the investigation is under Ross's control.

'Just out of curiousity, how do you determine whether or not I'm a threat to national security? Because as I'm sure you know, the...Other Guy, isn't going to go away any time soon. Unless you've got information there that could help me out?'

It's worth a shot. He might be the world's leading expert on gamma radiation, but who knows what these guys have up their sleeves.

[the_man]

Fury is silent for a moment.

"I wish we did," he says. Fury's voice gains some inflection for the first time. He sounds tired. "As for your first question, I'm trying a new tactic, here. I've decided to trust you for the time being. Nothing else seems to work, so why the hell not?"

[spit_it_out]

That hint of inflection makes him look down to the floor, and unbidden gratitude bloom in his chest. There aren't many strangers who sound like they might get how...inconvenient, for want of a better word, the Other Guy is.

Then he reminds himself that Fury probably knows how to play people, and he'll have read his file. Plus, he likely just thinks of him as a pain in the backside that he'd rather not have to deal with. He can't imagine anyone has any real understanding of what it's like.

'Yeah, well,' he says, forcing the disappointment not to come through. 'You can trust me to do my best. But you know that doesn't always work.'

Just to be clear, for the last time.

'Hold on.'

He opens his bag and pulls a map out. This would be easier with technology, but he can't carry anything that'll make him trackable. And he knows where he's going, but if he's going to meet someone, it's probably best to revise his semi-planned route, a little.

'I'll meet your guy. Give me an address I can send instructions to. And what's his name?'

[the_man]

"His name is Coulson. I'd email you with a contact address, but you seem to have closed your account. So send him your info at p.coulson@shield.org.

"I look forward to hearing his report."

[spit_it_out]

'I said I would.'

He's tracing a route with his finger, calculating odds of finding a ship and estimated length of journey. But Fury doesn't need to know anything more at this point, and no doubt this agent will report whatever he says straight in.

'I presume he'll be able to get anywhere in the world quickly? I'll give thirty-six hours notice, no more. That should give him enough time to be flown wherever.'

He pauses for a second, and his voice becomes more serious - not that it wasn't already.

'And, Fury? He comes alone. I mean it. He shows up with guys and guns, I won't be held responsible.'

He will, of course. He'll hold himself responsible. But he also knows what the outcome will be if there's another incident like on the campus at Culver.

[the_man]

"That should be plenty of time."

Another pause.

"He'll have a support team," Fury says. "For back-up and possible damage control. And to discourage anyone else from showing up. But they'll stay out of the way if they know what's good for them. Got me? This is a one-on-one with you and him, and it's on us to keep any...disruptions from occurring."

[spit_it_out]

He pulls in a deep breath, closes his eyes, and lets it out.

'I don't think you get to make the rules here. You don't get to tell me what will, or won't, make 'disruptions'.'

A one-on-one, he could handle. He could handle that in a crowded space, where there'd be less chance of anyone being able to grab him. But being told 'possible damage control' suggests that Fury doesn't really have faith in his ability to keep the Other Guy under wraps after all.

'If you think I'm going to go somewhere secluded, and face a guy I've never met, with a back-up team around the place - forget it. You're asking for trouble. We'll meet alone.'

It comes out more firmly than he intended, but he means it.

'You know as well as I do that if things go south, no agent and no back-up team is going to do any good. So why risk them? One guy, one conversation. It's safest for everyone.'

[the_man]

"So don't make it secluded, Doctor. If you can take it, we can take it. But all right. He'll meet you alone. Can he have a pilot, or do you want him to fly himself?"

Fury still sounds the same. A little tired, dry, and like this is not the only thing he has to deal with today.

[spit_it_out]

'As long as the pilot's not at the meeting, I don't care.'

He wonders whether this'll make any difference whatsoever. But if Fury wants him to trust S.H.I.E.L.D., he hopes so.

'So. We're done?'

[the_man]

"For now. Send Agent Coulson the location. He'll be there. Feel free to contact us as well. If you have trouble, or especially if you have any further run-ins with Ross or his minions."

[spit_it_out]

For now?

He doesn't like the sound of that. At all. It in no way sounds like Fury's going to leave him alone.

'Right,' he says, drily.

'Well, I appreciate that.'

He doesn't sound like he does, but that's just because he's unimpressed with the other thing. He's very glad not to have to deal with Ross any more. The man's a maniac.

'Goodbye, Director.'

He hangs up without waiting for anything further. Maybe he'll have more luck getting the leave me alone message across to this other guy.

And just to be safe, he destroys the phone before leaving. Can't be too careful.