Shiva - Full Circle

[x-maverick.livejournal.com]

David and Wanda journey to the storage facility to retrieve the archived Weapon X records, and meet someone unexpected.




~This is Major Tom to Ground Control, I'm stepping out the door...~

North reached out quickly, stabbing at buttons to change the radio station, the first real move he'd made during the drive south from Manhattan. Looking sheepishly over at Wanda, he shrugged and smiled apologetically. "Sorry," he offered. "Instinctive reaction to David Bowie. Force of habit, you see."

He looked down at the papers that Doug had provided, and the directions to the USAMRIID facility in New Jersey - specifically a warehouse complex for the United States Army Medical Research Institute of Infectious Diseases - Pest Control Division. Through a series of Freedom of Information Act requests (sped through by Ramsey's not-insignificant computer skills), they'd managed to trace military logistics shipments from Alkali Lake to the facility dating to only months after the former Weapon X facility had been destroyed.

Another dossier of forged paperwork included Department of Defense provisions to release documentation on the items recovered, which North hoped would finally unlock the secrets of the SHIVA protocol that threatened his life. He'd read through the documents multiple times, each successive pass reinforcing the quick but effective cover story that the Snow Valley team had established for him - David North, contractor with a private consulting firm, auditing the logistics records for an upcoming budget review. A ruse wrapped in so much red tape and bureaucracy that most military officials would simply file it and forget it.

"And you're certain your man Ramsey's work is untraceable, yes?" he asked without looking up. "After all I'm going to owe you lot for this, I'd hate to repay the debt by bringing more games of death and deceit upon your doorstep."

At that, a small but real smile graced Wanda's face. "It would not be the first time," she responded, "but we appreciate any effort to lessen those instances. And yes, if Doug says what he has done is untraceable than it is. I have absolutely no idea what it is that boy does most of the time but he does it very well. He's one of the best that I know."

She shifted in her seat, mentally running over her side of things. Like North, her front was of private contractor; she knew that if whoever they would be dealing with grew curious about her accent that it had been worked into it as well. But it wasn't uncommon these days for nonAmericans to be working as contractors, something that Wanda was relieved at. She was very good at many things but pretending to be an American was not one of them.

Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, she focused her energy, soothing any irritation that might come up. She was well enough to go on this mission but Wanda knew that while overtiring herself during it would be fine, the aftermath might not be.

"An interesting group of individuals," North mused, thinking to his brief meeting with Wanda's comrades. Disparate individuals, but there were obvious bonds there, not so different than those Maverick had once shared with his own teammates. Leaning back, he watched the road as Wanda drove on, turning off the freeway and following the car's GPS instructions.

"And yourself," he continued, "I would hazard a guess... Bulgarian, educated in the UK, but well-travelled from an early age. And here you are, head of 'Historical Studies' for this Snow Valley think tank. In the light of day, anyway. Interesting."

Back at home, Wanda had watched the remainder of her coworkers and friends scatter like leaves on the wind when North had placed the car keys in her hands. She'd simply stared at him and had firmly apologized in advance before sliding behind the wheel. "You're very good, Mr. North," she responded after a moment, forcing her hands to unclench slightly. The road was, thankfully for them, deserted enough that she could relax slightly. Her tone was light, with only a hint of gentle teasing in it.

"And do not be fooled - it is amazing how much historical studying I do during the cloak of night. Just nothing my fellow scholars at Cambridge would allow me to publish. As for yourself - German? Or at least you spent enough time there to blend in."

"East German, back when there was such a thing," North explained. "I was Stasi, at least until I had what you might call a moment of clarity - my power, you see." He tapped his head for emphasis. "It was less controlled back then. I had a vision of the future, the fall of the Socialist government, the ruin of the State. And so I took a man up on his offer to defect to the West. Christophe Nord vanished, and thanks to William Stryker, David North was born. Quite the lateral career move, one could say."

Wanda blinked twice at that. "From the frying pan and into the fire, as it were?" she asked, mulling over the word Stasi in her mind. The gypsy's had run afoul of the secret police for many years while they had been around. But like anything, there were legitimate and not so legitimate reasons to be captured. "My uncle used to tell us stories - trust me when I say the old gypsy probably deserved whatever he got."

North chuckled at that. "Oh, the gypsies. I must have arrested... Gott, I cannot even count. In Berlin, I worked a smuggling ring for six months. Mostly contraband videotapes from America, gypsies trying to make a quick buck smuggling verboten items across the border. That was what brought me to the Stasi, you know."

He sighed and looked out the window. "My father, he was the local... you would call it a station officer. Family connections open many doors."

"Ah, yes, they do. Though sometimes we may wish those doors were sealed behind bricks and sharp pointed objects." Her tone was very dry as she subtly urged the car back onto the road - they'd been on the shoulder for a few moments, at least.

North just shrugged as they turned off the road into the warehouse complex, passing under a large USAMRIID unit sign. "My father was on duty in Berlin when the Wall came down. He was one of the station officers in charge of destroying Stasi documents. When they came for him, he chose to take his own life rather than face prosecution for years of abusing his position. It seems to be the way of our world, yes? People die to keep secrets."

Turning the wheel caused the bracelet on her left wrist to shift and slide, oddly bereft of any noise. She thought about Monona and the others for a brief moment, feeling that odd combination of grief and anger swell before she pushed it back down. "In the end, I guess it is on our own shoulders if our secrets are worth protecting. But then again, I do not know if I would have it any other way. I value freedom, and freedom of choice, above many things. Though I am sorry, it is never easy losing someone."

"It gets easier," North said quietly, looking through the windshield as they pulled into a parking space by a concrete building marked "Administration". Reaching into his coat, he withdrew a suppressed pistol, checked the safety, and with a sigh placed it in the glove compartment. "We do what we must, because of who we are. And anyway, William Stryker is already dead. As far as I'm concerned, his secrets belong to those of us who carry on. Let's go find this..." he looked at the dossier once more. "Colonel Danvers, I believe."

"Some men gave up their rights to go quietly into that good night long ago," Wanda agreed, slipping out of the car. She flattened wrinkles on her jacket since she carried no weapons to double check, which was normal for her. Rarely did she need them. As she stretched and fussed, loosening her long limbs from the stress of driving, she subtly checked their surroundings; as far as she could tell, they hadn't been followed or spotted as being anything out of the ordinary.

Taking the steps briskly up to the door, North held it open for Wanda, then stepped inside. As he'd expected, the inside of the building had probably been furnished in the late seventies to then-current military standards, and had been a low budget priority ever since. Old-style metal filing cabinets lined the walls, and a bored-looking airman sat behind a heavy metal desk, hunting-and-pecking at a computer that had probably been purchased during the Reagan administration.

"We're here to see Colonel Danvers," North spoke in a surprisingly authentic-sounding Midwestern drone. "North and Maximoff, with Advanced Idea Mechanics. We have an appointment."

The airman glanced at the daily duty roster for a second, then slid two laminated security passes across the desk. A faint buzz sounded, and the door behind him clicked open. With a smile, North handed one of the passes to Wanda and continued down the hall to the lone office at the end.

Knocking on the open door, he pushed it open slightly and glanced inside. "Colonel Danvers?" he asked the woman behind the desk, "David North, about the records audit?"

The Colonel's head shot up guiltily at the knock on the door and she tried to make herself look as if she'd been busy instead of daydreaming at the desk. The airman hadn't told her that someone was on the way in. Why should he? She was only his fucking boss, only the overseer of this facility! She fought back bitterness as she slid her tall frame from out behind her impeccably organized desk. There was little else to do around here but organize. She should have been teaching young pilots, should have been sharing her expertise and experience flying Eagles with the next generation of fighters. Hadn't she been one of the best pilots the Force had throughout the eighties? Instead she was here, overseeing Pest Control. It was enough to drive anyone to drink.

"Mister North, welcome," she said with a forced smile. No point in taking her frustration out on the auditor from... where was it? AIM? Did she really care? Danvers held out her hand to the man as she looked him over, something in her subconscious sparking with familiarity. "Have I seen you somewhere before?"

North stopped dead in his tracks, frozen in place with an inscrutable look on his face for a few long seconds before Wanda nudged him subtly from behind. "No. No, I wouldn't think so, Colonel. I just seem to have one of those faces. Glad you could see us on such short notice. If I can be brief, Advanced Idea Mechanics is contracting with DoD for a logistics management system specific to materiel classification and tracking, and our oversight committee wanted us to work with some of the data you've got on hand at your facility here..."

Almost as if working on autopilot, David reached into the folder to withdraw Doug's forged documents requesting access to the Alkali Lake databases, expertly written up to appear completely legitimate. But as he moved, his eyes were flickering about the office, taking in every detail. Framed photographs of a younger Colonel Danvers smiling in a flight suit next to a jet fighter, aerial pictures of F-16 interceptors, a faded photo of a fresh-faced Lieutenant Danvers shaking the hand of then-President George H.W. Bush on a flight deck -the memorabilia of an active career that seemed out of place in this facility apparently dedicated to mundane monotony.

The pilot's helmet in a glass case behind the desk was what caught North's attention most, with the callsign spelled out in stenciled letters above the visor: WARBIRD.

She looked, Wanda thought, tired. As if she'd been saddled, unwelcomed, with the responsibilities that came the job. As she stood behind David, watching him subtly for any more hesitations, she couldn't help but feel a pang of pity for this woman. To Colonel Danvers, this was as real as Wanda's life had been. All the pain, heartache and joys that had been programmed into her head. From childhood on it was all real to her.

And so very fake. Wanda's mouth tightened slightly as if grimacing in pain, shifting her weight to the other foot as she bided her time since she was perfectly willing to follow David's lead in this. She was more reacting to the idea that an organization had decided to put these people on a high wire act for their own, at times, petty reasons.

"Hello," Danvers said to Wanda, offering her hand. She always made a point to acknowledge women who came to see her within the course of their jobs, no matter how menial that job might be. North hadn't introduced her, so the Colonel guessed she was some sort of assistant, but she remembered all too well the mean treatment, the ostracization that came simply from being a woman while she'd been in training, until she'd proven herself in the boys club. She could never treat another woman the same way she'd been treated, even if she was the head of this whole facility.

Taking the papers from North, Danvers crossed the small room to return to her desk and looked them over. "Alkali Lake?" She checked the master file number against the computerized records system on her ancient PC. "Those were sent to the archive years ago." But apparently North had provided for that scenario- documentation from the DoD to release the records accompanied the original acquisition request, overriding the restrictions on access that the records were tagged with. "I can requisition them for you," she continued, pursing her lips and straightening a framed photo of the Colonel and her squadron standing in front of an Eagle. "It might take a few days, weeks even. You know how government types can be, and these are government archivists. Even worse."

"I'd appreciate the help, Carol. Do you mind if I call you Carol?" North answered with a smile, looking at the photograph. "I know there's a lot of bureaucracy involved, obviously. Not the most exciting part of the job, but you know what they say -administration's the backbone of the service, right?"

He leaned forward, looking past Carol to the memorabilia on the wall. "If you know anyone up the chain who could expedite the records, it'd be a big... hey, is that an F-15? I used to know a couple fighter jocks who said they were a real bitch to fly, if you'll pardon the language." He let out an appreciative whistle, then placed a hand lightly on the requisition folder. "I'm sorry, if we're a burden on your schedule, I know you're busy here..."

Danvers felt herself straightening a little at North's comment about administration being the backbone of the service, biting back a smile, telling herself it was silly to be proud of this job. It was as far from flying Eagles as someone could get, after all. But the recognition was nice. As he leaned forward, the spark in her subconscious flared again, the one that said North was familiar, but she pushed it back. The smile she'd been hiding broke through when he mentioned F-15s, stayed in place while he continued to flatter her with his 'I know you're busy' line. "They may be a bitch, Mister North, but nothing beats being up in one," she said with a touch of wistfulness in her voice. "Nothing in the world tops that feeling. It sort of makes everything else seem like a letdown." She shook her head once to dislodge the thought and reminded herself that she was still useful- North needed her right now, in fact. "As to your requisition, I might know someone who can expedite the process. I can procure these for you myself, tomorrow, and if you'd like them couriered, or faxed, you could have them by early afternoon." She had no appointments tomorrow. Nothing of pressing concern. There was never enough to do around here.

"You could? Thank you, Carol, I'd appreciate that." David's smile and voice were sincere as he stood and extended a hand across the desk. I'll give our contact information to your airman out there. Maybe once we're off contract, we can meet for coffee? I'd love to hear what flying one of those beautiful jets is like."

Businesslike nods were exchanged, and moments later, Wanda and North were walking back out to the car.

"Praise be red tape," Wanda breathed as she tossed him the car keys since he would not need the time to concentrate on going over the paperwork on the way back. "And those that cut through it. If she's able to do what she promised, we'll have that paperwork in the Snow Valley offices soon enough. Then we'll see who's next on the list." She tugged her jacket closer around her as she waited for David to unlock the car. "What did you think?"

North didn't speak until he was sitting behind the wheel with the engine running, and for a long minute he remained staring through the windshield at the building they'd left. "Have you ever read Edgar Allan Poe, Wanda?" he asked in a casual tone. "The Purloined Letter, a story about hiding something in plain sight, pretending it to be something else entirely. You see, Colonel Danvers and I have met before. Or more accurately, Warbird and Maverick."

"And all she got from seeing you was that odd sense of deja vu that vexes most of us from time to time," she murmured, settling back and letting the seat mold around her. The air coming from the vents was still cold but it had wisps of warmer air as North cranked it up. "I am sorry, I know this cannot be be easy on you. It seems for all that we take out one person or group that seeks to manipulate people for their own gain, another creeps from the shadow." For a moment, a bitter tone crept into her voice but she shook her head as she clicked the seat belt closed.

"She doesn't remember," David said quietly. "Years working alongside each other, and a moment's deja vu is all that she felt. Remember what I said about Logan being the most dangerous operative Weapon X possessed?"

His face was blank as he pulled the car out of the parking space and drove quickly away from the facility. "I lied. Wolverine uncontrolled is capable of killing hundreds. Warbird?" He chuckled to himself, the first show of emotion from the taciturn German since they'd left the Colonel's office. "We were just in a room with a woman possessing the approximate power of an intercontinental ballistic missile. That nuclear option I referred to? She's it.."

"Weapon X certainly knew what they were doing when it came to recruitment," Wanda replied, shaking her head. Dear god. Let it be someone else next on the list. She was not looking forward to either option if the next operative turned out to be either Logan or Danvers. She turned in her seat slightly so she could look at him. "Tell me about her? The her you used to know. I think I would like to hear that."