Jones waved her hand, indicating the banks of hardware that dominated one side of the room. “You detected them before, right? You can’t just use all this to track her down again?” She snorted, looking decidedly unimpressed.

Tony started to bristle, but Bruce interjected before he could say anything. “The tracking algorithm isn’t reliable anymore. The net’s getting more and more holes in it every day—there’s a limit on what we can ask people to do for us. Labs have got their own things they need to use their equipment for.” He walked over to one of the monitors showing data from the algorithm and pointed at a barely discernible spike in one of the feeds. “There was a blip here in New York. Our equipment’s sensitive enough to be able to narrow it down to Steve’s apartment building. It was faint, below the threshold we’d set, so we didn’t see it right away and didn’t think to go looking until it was too late.”

“You’re sure it was a match? Why was the signal so faint?”

“We don’t know,” Tony said sullenly. “Any ideas that the experts in radiology here might not have thought of?”

Bruce was more conciliatory. “It could just be a blip in the background, but if it is it’s pretty coincidental.”

“Coincidences happen all the time.” Jones folded her arms and frowned. “Wanda can… what’re her powers again? She can teleport?”

“She creates portals in the air that connect two locations, among other things. We’re not sure on the details yet, but they basically seem to be miniature wormholes of some kind.”

“Right… and she knows you can track that thing she’s carrying?”

“Yeah, she seemed to realise it when we caught up with her in New Delhi.”

“If it was her, maybe she didn’t actually come through? Opened a portal then closed it again?”

Clint leaned back against the wall next to Nat and exchanged a thoughtful glance with her. “That might explain it.”

“You said her brother’s fast—how fast? Could he have run through, grabbed Rogers and gone back super quick?”

“Easily.” Nat found she was nodding along, but caught herself when she saw that Jones’ frown had deepened.

“It’s a neat answer, but I don’t like it. Are the portals flashy? How quickly do they open? Would he not have had any chance to react? Is her brother really so fast that he’d be able to take down Mr America without a struggle and leave without any sort of sign left behind?” Jones looked around at them as she talked it through, obviously expecting Tony or someone else to interject or challenge one of her questions, but no one did. “There was nothing out of place in his apartment. It was like he got dressed then evaporated into thin air. If they’d hit him hard and fast, there’d have been something, right? And why take him in the first place?”

No one else seemed to be interested in answering, so Nat took the opportunity to voice her own concerns. “Wanda can control minds. They might be trying to subvert him.”

Nat saw Jones go still at the mention of mind control, but a moment later she shook her head. “But then they’d have been extra cautious about being caught, right? Getting a mole into the enemy base is pointless if they detect you right away.”

“This wasn’t cautious enough?”

“Nah. You’re not tracking her, you’re tracking the thing she stole, right? And she knows that. If they were worried about being caught, wouldn’t it make more sense to put it down somewhere safe for a moment, then kidnap Mr America?”

“She could be paranoid and not want to let go of it?” Tony said hesitantly, but it was pretty clear he was just arguing for argument’s sake rather than because he thought Jones was wrong.

“We’re missing something. Someone else could be trying to make it look like the Maximoffs took him, but that doesn’t feel right either,” Jones mused. After a few seconds, she looked over at Nat. “Is there any reason he might have gone willingly?”

Nat froze. Wanda had affected Steve’s mind in New Delhi, but that had worn off pretty quickly. Hadn’t it? A heavy weight seemed to settle in her stomach. From the meaningful glances being exchanged, she could tell that the rest of the team had had the same thought. She found herself running back through every conversation she’d had with Steve over the last few days. He’d been sympathetic to the Maximoffs, sure, but she was pretty sure Steve could empathise with anyone, so nothing had seemed out of character, but now…

Jones read the sudden silence correctly and nodded to herself. “So there is something?”

“Fucking hell,” Clint swore. “I should have picked up on it. The sceptre…”

“His eyes were fine. No blue,” Bruce protested half-heartedly. “I mean, none beyond the normal amount.”

“His eyes were fine when we fought, I think,” Tony said quietly. “I can pull the footage from my helmet to confirm.”

Jones looked between them questioningly. “You want to fill me in, or…?”

Tony moved abruptly, stalking over to a chair and collapsing down into it. He looked tired. “No point dancing around it. We told you about her mind control. Loki’s sceptre could do it, too, and it’s pretty insidious. Long lasting. The sceptre is what gave the Maximoffs their powers and its power source is the thing hanging around Wanda’s neck.”

“Loki as in Thor’s brother? Invaded New York a little while back with a space army?” Jones asked slowly. “That Loki?”

Thor, who’d been content to loom quietly in the background for most of the discussion, nodded morosely. “Even in death, my brother’s foolhardy actions still plague us.”

“Okay…” she gave Nat a hard look. “I’d thought they were just Enhanced. No one said anything about alien space god magic. Portals, mind control—anything else I should know?”

“Telekinesis, energy projection,” Bruce answered. “That’s all. We think.” He shot her a sheepish, apologetic look.

“Great. She sounds like she’s going to be a pain in the ass to deal with.”

“But why take him, if he remained under her control?” Thor asked, circling back around to the questions Jones had been asking earlier. “Why now?”

“Who knows?” Nat shrugged. “They were after something specific, maybe. She got what she wanted, extracted the asset. We don’t know that he was under her control, but until we can establish otherwise it’d be safer to assume anything he knows, she does as well.”

“We should make some changes while we work this through. I’ll get JARVIS to update security protocols. Change the locks, just in case.” The door nearest to Stark slid open and he paused.

“Sorry to interrupt, we’ve had something come up,” Maria Hill said as she stepped into the room, tablet held cradled in one hand. She paused and her eyes flicked over to Jones briefly, her expression turning questioning. Nat nodded briefly and she continued. “Police in South Africa rolled up a black-market arms operation based out of a coastal salvage yard after it got hit. The initial reports made it seem like it was a rival dealer, but one of the guys they arrested was rambling about ‘something moving faster than the eye could see’ and a ‘red woman’.”

“That sounds like the Maximoffs,” Bruce said, perking up.

Stark snapped his fingers, forehead creased in thought. “Wait a minute. South African coast, arms dealer? Do we have a name?”

Looking back down at her tablet, Maria pursed her lips. “Ulysses Klaue.”

“Klaue? I know that guy. From back in the day.” Jones shot him an unimpressed look and he shrugged. “There are conventions, alright? You meet people. I didn’t sell him anything.”

“From what the witness said, it looks like they abducted Klaue so he could take them somewhere,” Maria said. “Took their ‘special stock’, too, though it doesn’t look like they were able to determine what that was.”

Nat held out a hand expectantly and Maria brought her tablet over, tapping away at it to bring up a series of photos. Thor and Jones hung over each of Nat’s shoulders as she looked over the pictures—several shots from what looked like some sort of weapons deal, focused on a rough, greasy-looking man with tribal-style tattoos peeking from the top of his shirt.

Stark was still talking in the background, partially to himself, his expression thoughtful. “He was talking about finding something new, a game-changer. It was all very Ahab.”

Thor pointed to the bottommost picture. “This?”

If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

Jones stepped away, clearly feeling a little crowded, as Stark joined the huddle around the tablet. “It’s a tattoo, I don’t think he had it back then.”

“Those are tattoos,” Thor clarified. “This is a brand.”

“What is that? The symbol?”

“JARVIS?” Tony spoke to the air. “Can you look this up for us?”

“Running a search now, sir,” the smooth, synthesised voice came from seemingly everywhere and nowhere at once and Nat caught Jones looking around, trying to determine its source. “Pulling up a translation on screen.”

Bruce turned back to his monitor, which had switched over from the gamma algorithm to a replica of the symbol, explanatory notes scrolling alongside it. “Oh, yeah. It’s a word in an African dialect meaning ‘thief’… in a much less friendly way.”

“What dialect?” Jones asked.

Bruce squinted at the screen. “Wakanada? Uh… Wak-Wakanda.”

It was almost imperceptible—if Nat hadn’t already been looking in his direction, she might not have noticed it—but Tony went still as soon as Bruce managed to get through the name of the country. “Tony?” she prompted him.

He shot her a pensive look. “If this guy got out of Wakanda with some of their trade goods…”

“I don’t follow,” Bruce said, confused. “What comes out of Wakanda?”

“The strongest metal on Earth.”

“Vibranium?” Nat tilted her head to the side. “Like Steve’s shield?”

“Oh, now that can’t be a coincidence, can it?” asked Clint.

“Took Klaue, took his stock. Took Steve, took his shield. The witness said Klaue was going to take them somewhere?”

Maria nodded. “That’s what it says.”

“They’re scooping up vibranium left and right. Think they’ve decided to go right for the source?” Tony said, stroking his chin thoughtfully.

“Can we reach out to Wakanda? They’re pretty isolationist if I recall correctly, but they might work with us if we warn them about what the Maximoffs can do,” Nat said as she handed the tablet back to Maria. Turning to Jones, she cocked her head to the side and shot her a questioning look. “Want to hang around for a bit? We might need your eye.”

“…I suppose I can help out.” The PI shrugged, pulling a face. “I really don’t like mind controllers.”

“Preaching to the choir here, sister,” said Tony as he stepped past them. “I’ll get onto those security protocol changes. Welcome to the team.”

--

I grabbed at the metal fingers wrapped around my throat in a panic, desperately trying to pry them off. My efforts met with mild success, easing the crushing pressure just enough that I was able to suck in a small amount of much-needed air. Even though Steve was seemingly as caught off-guard by Bucky’s sudden attack as I was, not being stuck inside a mental construct meant that he’d reacted much quicker than I had and already had his friend in a sleeper hold, one bicep locked around Bucky’s neck to cut off the flow of blood to his brain.

Between my mild success at stopping him from crushing my windpipe and Steve on his back, Bucky was forced to give up on me to focus on keeping himself in the fight. He shoved me back with a savage thrust and I landed painfully on the chair that I’d been sitting on when we started. The flimsy wood splintered as I went down, dazed and gasping for air like a beached fish. Ignoring the blossom of pain from what was probably a new set of chair-shaped bruises, I shakily probed at my neck with my fingers, confirming to myself that it was still intact and he hadn’t just torn my throat out.

While I hesitated, Bucky grabbed Steve’s arm with his metal one, prying it away from his neck, then bodily threw himself backwards. Steve held on grimly as he was slammed into the wall—once, twice, three times—his grip loosening with each impact until Bucky was able to dislodge him and flip him forward over his shoulder. Steve crashed down onto the remaining chair, smashing it to kindling.

I flailed a hand at Bucky, pulling at him with wisps of red telekinetic energy to try to run him head-first into the opposite wall, but instead of being caught off-balance he leaned into it, stepping forward to run up the wall before killing the momentum with a backflip and landing lightly back on his feet. As I processed what had just happened, he turned and lunged toward me, metal arm outstretched.

My body reacted without any conscious input from my brain, one foot tucking itself under me to launch myself forward, ducking smoothly under his arm. Bucky was just as fast, turning the lunge into a reverse elbow strike to try to catch me as I moved past him, but I twisted as I straightened up and blocked his arm with the palms of both my hands. There was a barely-noticeably pause as both of us were surprised at how quickly I’d managed to respond to his attacks, then Steve joined the fray, coming in with a sweeping kick to Bucky’s legs.

I bounced back and watched for a second as the two of them exchanged a rapid series of blows and counter-blows. My own enhanced reflexes had let me keep up with the Winter Soldier briefly, but I severely doubted my ability to do so for more than a few seconds. Steve and Bucky’s physical enhancements at the very least matched what I’d gained from the Heart-Shaped Herb, and even though I’d had some hand-to-hand training during my time with HYDRA, it was pretty clear I was an amateur compared to the two of them.

“Alright, enough,” I said, raising my hand again and taking firm hold of the power that was bubbling up within me, my magic responding easily to the surge of adrenaline the fight had caused. Red strands of chaos magic speared out, bright and strong, and slammed directly into Bucky, lifting him in the air before flattening him against the far wall. He tried to struggle, but gave up quickly when he realised there was no give in my telekinetic grip, electing to glower impotently at me instead.

Steve had followed Bucky’s movements with his guard up but, once he realised that his friend was no longer a threat, he turned back to me, concern in his eyes. “You okay?”

“No harm done,” I said, my voice hoarse and a bit shaky. I touched my throat again absently. Breathing hurt a bit and I imagined that I’d probably have some ugly red marks on my neck if not outright bruising. My shoulders shuddered involuntarily. If I’d been a little slower to react, or if I hadn’t been enhanced by the Heart-Shaped Herb, the Winter Soldier would have probably just crushed my larynx.

Steve didn’t look convinced. He spared a quick glance at Bucky to confirm he was immobilised before he turned his full attention to me, stepping in close. “May I?”

I nodded, then inhaled sharply as he reached out and gently took hold of my chin, lifting it slightly as he inspected my neck. I was suddenly hyper-conscious of his fingertips on my skin and how close he was standing to me, to the point where it was a struggle to maintain my focus on keeping Bucky pinned against the far wall. Well, that was pathetic. I hadn’t realised how utterly touch-starved I was. “Uh, I said we could do that before we went after Bucky. I don’t think now’s a good time,” I tittered nervously.

He shot me an exasperated look, though I thought I saw the corner of his mouth twitching as he stopped himself from smiling. His piercing blue eyes stayed locked with mine for a moment as he very carefully tilted my head slightly to the left and right, probably just checking to see if the movement would make me wince or whatever. With any luck, he wouldn’t be able to see the genuine blush rising in my cheeks through the flush of exertion from the fight.

After what felt like both an incredibly short few seconds and an actual eternity, he let go of me, seemingly satisfied that no serious damage had been done. I cleared my throat and looked away, straightening my dress to give my hands something to do as I stepped awkwardly past him and looked at Bucky. This was good. This was progress. Steve was treating me like a teammate, not a barely trusted enemy. I allowed myself a small measure of hope. “Okay. Let’s just take a minute or two then I’ll go back in.”

Steve made a small noise of surprise. “You want to try again? He could have killed you.”

“Well, yeah, he caught me off-guard, but he isn’t going to get a second chance to do that. I should be able to maintain my hold on him for as long as we need. I’ll keep him bound and you just… be ready to jump in if something goes wrong. Again.”

I felt his eyes on the back of my head for a long moment before he spoke again. “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure,” I said, nodding. “Bucky’s a good man who’s had terrible things done to him. I can help. Who would I be if I refused just because it might be a little dangerous?”

“…do you know what went wrong?”

“I’m not sure. This is more art than science—I just need to take it slow, be careful, and work out the best way to deal with what’s in his head.”

“Okay. If that happens again, though…” he trailed off warningly.

“We’ll reassess. Promise.”

As we spoke, I stared at Bucky, walking myself back through what had happened in his mental landscape. My magic had overwhelmed the Winter Soldier persona easily enough when I’d encountered it, but ‘killing’ it wasn’t the answer. Then again, if I could bind it, might that not be at least a temporary solution in itself? If I could restrain the Winter Soldier persona, all I needed to do was use an ongoing enchantment instead of an ad-hoc expression of magic. I hadn’t actually tried to make an ongoing effect before, but it was clearly something I was capable of from Wanda’s showings in the original timeline. The only issue was that it would probably make Bucky dependent on me to keep it going until we were able to deprogram him more thoroughly.

I examined the threads of chaos magic woven around Bucky’s body, then touched my chest and closed my eyes, sending my awareness inside myself to carefully trace the shape of the wards that Mordo had placed on me. The sorcerous magic was far more rigid and structured than my own, but maybe I could use the wards as a little bit of a model. After a few moments of examination, I opened my eyes and tweaked the way my magic was flowing through the telekinetic bindings holding Bucky, tying them off in a similar way before releasing my concentration.

The bindings held and I smiled to myself. They wouldn’t last for that long, maybe a few minutes at most. I had power to spare, so I’d never really focused on trying to make my magical effects particularly energy-efficient, but now that I understood how to do it, I could practice and improve.

I made a small noise of frustration in the back of my throat. This would work a lot better if I could get a better understanding of the ‘battery’ style enchantment that Mordo had placed on Pietro. I’d been feeding small amounts of magic into it on a regular basis, but hadn’t taken the time to really examine it in any detail. It’d be easier to do something similar to it if I had it in front of me.

“Uh, Wanda? You’re glowing.”

I blinked, the non-sequitur dragging me out of my thoughts. “Huh? Thank you?”

“Your jacket.”

I looked down. There was a noticeable orange glow coming from inside my jacket pocket and it took me a second to understand what was happening before I yanked it off in a panic and threw it across the room. “Shield!” I yelled, flicking a hand to the side of the room and yanking Captain America’s shield from where it sat propped against the wall with a small jolt of telekinetic energy. I ducked behind Steve as he caught the shield and we both fell into a crouch, the Avenger protecting himself with the shield and me with his body.

Several long seconds passed as nothing happened. “What…?” Steve asked hesitantly.

“Uh, maybe a bomb?” The orb Kaecilius had given me had started glowing and I had no idea why.

“‘Maybe’?”

I was quiet for a few more seconds, then cautiously straightened up to look at where my jacket lay in a crumpled heap on the far side of the room. The glow remained steady with no indication it was getting stronger or about to do anything else. I cleared my throat again, slightly embarrassed, absently fixing up my dress as I realised that a strap had fallen off one of my shoulders. “I might just be getting a call?”

Almost as if in answer to my words, the familiar sight of a sorcerous portal sparked into existence above my jacket, quickly expanding to reveal Kaecilius standing on the other side. As he stepped through, I caught a glimpse of a heavily forested area behind him before the gateway closed.

“Ms Maximoff.” The sorcerer placed a hand on his chest and inclined his head respectfully. “It is a pleasure to see you again. I hope this isn’t a bad time?”