Eminent Silence

by Tristan Carey

  'Julia! Did you even see that cut on her forehead?' Frank gestured towards the kitchen doorway — closed, since Rebel was too panicked to have it any other way. At least she was contained. 'That alone is going to need stitches, not to mention whatever else she's hiding.'

  'Of course I saw her! She's weaponized my damn knife drawer!' Julia snapped, passing Frank as she started to pace. The curtains of the living room had all been drawn shut immediately after Julia had ushered in Rebel. The room was dark and only lit by the table lamps, and was starting to feel a little too cramped for her tastes. 'I can't even get close to her, Frank! She's absolutely beside herself! I can't get her out of the kitchen, how am I supposed to get her to a hospital half-way across the city?'

  'Do you at least have a plan?' Frank asked, and upon reading her expression accurately guessed her answer. 'Jules, we have to tell someone. One way or another, someone's going to find out about her. And I've got the feeling that the people who're after her aren't all good guys.'

  'What, they followed her all the way from Sokovia?' Julia said, almost disbelieving.

  'She did say that the Chairman was after her!' Frank pointed out. 'She helped start a goddamn war, of course they'd chase her across half of Europe. They don't give a damn about who they hurt along the way. And what do you think they'll do when they learn about us?'

  'They won't,' Julia said, her jaw clenched as she continued to pace. It sounded like a lie and Frank knew it.

  'You don't know that.'

  'We just have to be careful. To be honest, I'm more afraid of her right now than anything else. She's not the same person we remembered.

  'As if we knew her at all,' Frank said under his breath.

  She had just opened her mouth to retort (even though he had a point), when a knock came on the door.

  Julia and Frank exchanged bewildered looks. 'Are you expecting someone else?' Frank asked.

  'No,' Julia said, frowning. Who could be here at this time? She glanced at her cell phone — no messages to indicate a friend was coming over. And Julia was too on edge to consider this just a coincidence. Someone arriving unannounced just hours after an injured runaway? Someone must have discovered where she went.

  For a moment, she'd hoped the newcomer would pass, but then they knocked again, more insistent this time. Julia hesitated before finally heading towards the front door; she didn't have to say anything to Frank, who automatically positioned himself in front of the kitchen threshold, just in case.

  Praying to God that it wasn't the police coming here to arrest her for harboring a known fugitive, Julia closed her eyes, took a deep breath, before grabbing the knob and yanking the door open.

  On the other side stood a single man. Middle-aged, with an open expression, but with deceptively intelligent eyes. Julia knew his type anywhere. A government agent.

  'Julia Frink?' The man asked with a smile. He pulled a badge from his pocket and presented it to her. 'Hello, I'm Agent Coulson, I'm with SHIELD. I'm here to help.'

  'SHIELD?' Julia repeated, closing the door a little so he couldn't see into the apartment. What the hell was SHIELD doing here? 'You mean —'

  'Yeah, from the Incident, that's us,' Agent Coulson nodded knowingly, as if this were a conversation he's had a lot recently. He looked like a government agent, but didn't have the attitude of any she'd ever met before. His calm, almost friendly demeanor was rather disarming. 'Not the best coming out party but what can you do. We make it our business to assess and handle any problems that appear to be, well, beyond the realm of normal. Superhuman, I guess you could say.'

  'I-I have no idea what you're talking about,' Julia said, licking her lips. MI-5 hadn't said anything about SHIELD. They'd briefed her on almost every conceivable force that might come her way, but not this. She had no idea what to make of this man, much less his claims.

  'I have it on good authority that you're currently harboring a young teenaged girl in your kitchen,' Agent Coulson said, still with that light-hearted tone. 'We've been following her trail for the past couple days; we believe she's connected to a string of terror attacks across Europe, including the one today on Tower Bridge.'

  'What do you want with her?' Julia demanded, deciding to forgo the veil of ignorance and get straight to the point.

  'We're trying to contain the situation before it gets further out of hand,' Agent Coulson replied, then gestured forward. 'I promise, SHIELD means no harm to you or the girl. Please, if you could, I'd like to come inside and see for myself.'

  Julia studied this man, this Agent Coulson for a long moment; she had no reason to believe a word he said, but the badge looked legit, and she had to admit, there was something trustworthy about him that she liked. Reluctantly, she pulled back, opening the door to let him inside. 'She's in the kitchen. But please, be careful. I've tried reasoning with her but she's completely unresponsive.'

  Frank fixed Coulson with a suspicious look, and only backed off at the sight of the badge. Exchanging another look with Julia, he added, 'She's hurt pretty bad, although we can't get too close to tell just what. You really think you can help?'

  'Don't worry, Mr. Crain, I have experience in matters like this,' Agent Coulson said. 'Most of them are resistant to being brought in. It's just a matter of convincing them it's their best option.'

  Frank let out a snort. 'I don't think it's quite the same thing.'

  'I'm sure it's not that —' Agent Coulson began, just as Frink opened the door. Then he saw the inside of the kitchen, the utter chaos inside. He went silent, doing a double-take. '...Oh. I see what you mean.'

  The kitchen had been rendered almost unrecognizable. The lights were off, cupboards open, glassware shattered, the window curtains torn. Faint sunlight filtered through, picking up on the shiny spots of blood splattered across the floor.

  'What's her name?' Agent Coulson asked, peering into the kitchen. All you could see of Rebel was her white shoes peeking out from behind the fridge — she had sequestered herself in a tiny alcove against the wall, just out of their line of sight.

  'We...we don't know,' Julia admitted, a little frustrated with herself. No matter what state she was in, Rebel seemed determined to keep her identity to herself. 'She refused to tell us when we first met; for our own safety, she said. And now, well...she's not even speaking. I'd be surprised if you could get anything out of her at all.'

  'You called her Rebel in your piece,' Agent Coulson said, before stepping into the kitchen.

  'She doesn't respond to it,' Julia told him. She knew, she'd already tried. 'Besides, I'm not even sure if she read my work.'

  'Well, I suppose it's better than nothing,' Agent Coulson said, more to himself than the other two. He took a breath before stepping into the kitchen, setting over a fallen stool, slowly rounding on the girl cowering in the corner. He kept his distance, so she could see him coming, and not react unpredictably.

  It was hard to say what state she was in, but even Coulson could see it wasn't good. He was impressed she was even still awake, and tested his luck by moving in a little closer, so they were only ten feet away. He approached with a few wary words. 'Hello? Look, um, Rebel, I'm not here to hurt you, okay? I'm a friend. I just want to help.'

  The girl flinched at his approach, but didn't move as he got closer. She was shaking from head to foot. There was a pool at her feel, dirty lake water dripping everywhere. There was also the distinct smell of gunpowder in the air.

  'Hey there,' He said softly, lowering to one knee on the tiled floor, keeping his palms up and open so Rebel would know she's unharmed. 'You look like you've had a pretty rough day, huh?'

  The girl stared at him with wide, haunted eyes. Gray eyes gleamed sharply against dirt-and-blood-covered skin. Her pupils were only pinpricks. Her breath came out short and fast. The knife trembled in her hand as she aimed the point at Coulson.

  'I'm with SHIELD.' Agent Coulson said. 'And I'm here to take you home.'

  Then the girl said someth
ing, very quiet. Agent Coulson leaned in, asked kindly, 'Sorry, I didn't catch that. Can you say it again, please?'

  'The man,' the girl repeated, looking at Coulson. Looking through him. 'The man on the bridge. I knew him.'

  Eventually, the world grew warm again.

  I found myself lying on a cot. I didn't remember how I got here. I didn't recognize the black walls, the fluorescent lights. At this point, I was getting used to the feeling.

  I blinked, wincing against the bright white light. I raised a hand to shade my eyes. As I rose to my elbows, a massive burst of pain erupted from my temple and I collapsed back onto the pillow, groaning.

  'Easy there,' said an unfamiliar voice. Male. 'You've taken a pretty hard fall.'

  I immediately shot upwards to a sitting position, alarm sending every nerve on fire. My fists clenched, my knees raised, my feet slipped under me, ready to jump off at a moment's notice — right before a wave of dizziness hit me and I rocked back, slumping against the wall.

  'Damn,' a second voice said, and I registered it as female. My vision was a blur as I tried to think past the nausea coming over me. 'You weren't kidding when you said she's a lively one.'

  My breath came out in sharp gasps as my eyes finally focused on the two sitting on the bench opposite my cot. An average middle-aged man and an Asian woman who looked to be in her late twenties. She had dark wavy hair, an amused lilt to her expression. The man wore a plain black suit, black tie, and was currently focused on a tablet in front of him, not even looking at me.

  I stared at the man. I couldn't believe I recognized him. 'You. You w-were in Nice. You were part of that-that tourist couple, th-the one that took our ph-photo...'

  The man picked his head up, cast me a pleasant smile. 'Oh, so you do remember! I take it you're back to your old self? I'm asking because I've seen two very different sides of you, and I'm hoping that this is the dominant side because, well, you're a lot nicer than the other one.'

  'We honestly have no clue what your deal is.' The woman said. She seemed more informal of the two, wearing a leather jacket and torn up jeans, sort of like me - only, you know, clean.

  'Join the club,' I muttered, bowing my head and studying my toes for a moment as I collected my breath. My feet were bare — they'd taken off my shoes. My yellow raincoat, the utility jacket. I was only wearing my jeans and my now-ripped shirt. I gaped. 'D-did you take my clothes?'

  'Ah, that's just a formality,' the man said, raising his chin in an understanding nod of my shock. 'Don't worry, we're having them washed. We'll get you cleaned up, too, once you help us out a little.'

  'Help out how?' I asked, casting them a suspicious frown. 'Who the hell are you guys? Where am I? How did I even get here?'

  'We're the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement, and Logistics Division; also known as SHIELD. I suppose you've heard of us.'

  I frowned at him, before shaking my head. My thoughts were still a jumble. The name sounded vaguely familiar but I couldn't recall where I'd last heard it.

  'Huh,' the man looked mildly impress. 'Well, I forgot what that feels like. Most people know who we are, thanks to the Incident. Anyways, I'm Agent Coulson, and this is Skye, a member of my special task force. You're here on the Bus, a SHIELD jet currently circling the greater London area. As for how you got here, let's just say I'm really glad I took that semester abroad in Russia.'

  'You almost stabbed Coulson,' Skye added with a smirk, earning a vaguely disapproving look from him. 'Then we almost crashed the car leaving the apartment. You tried to escape five times — probably would've succeeded, too, but May's faster than she looks.'

  'We've kept you sedated since,' Coulson said, and at my expression he added, 'For your safety, not just ours. You stole a knife and cut yourself just trying to get out of the seat belt. You tried walking directly into traffic. We were afraid you were going to get yourself killed. Imagine our surprise when we realized you have a metabolism that burns through ketamine three times as fast as a regular human. We burned through half our supplies in under an hour.'

  'That's also one of our questions, by the way,' Skye held up a finger. 'How, uh, exactly can you do that?'

  'I just...can,' I could only shrug helplessly, tucking my knees under my chin and hugging my legs. I didn't like this, I didn't like all the talking and the voices and the new faces, while my brain was still in a fog. I was still trying to catch up to what happened. We were in London? Why were we in London? Oh, right, to see the reporters. But then… 'I've been like this for…months now, I guess.'

  'So, you weren't born like this?' Agent Coulson asked, and when I shook my head he typed something into the tablet. I studied him for a moment, trying to match this man to the same one I saw back in sunny Nice. He'd seemed so different then; same accent, sure, he was still American, but everything else just seemed so off.

  'W-wait, so you're a-a secret agent?' I said, raising a finger at Coulson. At his questioning look, I tucked my hand back and shook my head. 'You look like my history teacher.'

  'Well,' Coulson smiled. 'I'm sure your history teacher is very handsome.'

  'My history teacher is a woman.'

  'Oh.' Coulson backtracked a little. 'Your history teacher must be a-a handsome lady, then.'

  'Look,' Skye returned to the topic at hand. Leaning in, she said, 'We need you to tell us what happened on the bridge, okay? Really, just everything that's happened to you. I mean, you're American, right? How the hell did you end up in Sokovia, a country that's had closed borders for over ten years?'

  I stared at her, uncomprehending. I heard nothing else past her first sentence. 'The-the bridge…?'

  Oh, god.

  The bridge. The explosions. The falling containers, the screaming people. The helicopter. Guns, agents, fire. The Winter Soldier. Wanda screaming. Blood. A knife, flashing. Cold, dead eyes pinning me down. Black waters swallowing me whole.

  'I-I can't,' I whispered, shaking my head, suddenly gasping for air. It felt like I was being suffocated again. It's my fault it's my fault. You don't fight the Winter Soldier. 'It wasn't supposed to happen like that. I-I never thought…'

  'Look, we're just going to debrief you on what we know happened, okay?' Coulson raised a hand to calm me. Apparently, he could tell he wouldn't be getting anything useful out of me. 'No questions right now, okay? Just listen. Skye?'

  Skye glanced at Coulson, and then to me: 'On October 29th, we received an alert that a Sokovian satellite had been hijacked for exactly thirteen minutes. It wasn't a sanctioned move, so it was up to me to figure it out. I looked through the code, and the only thing I could find was a hacker's signature, Miss-Underscore-Chevious, who until now has never popped up before. I managed to trace their location to a public library in Novi Grad, Sokovia. This was the day after an unknown number, also from Sokovia, managed to reach a cellphone in New York City. I didn't think it was a coincidence. Two days later, we got word of American spies exposed in Novi Grad, but the thing is, we don't have any American spies in Novi Grad, so who could it possibly be?'

  'You can imagine our concern when, on November 1st, civil war broke out in Sokovia,' Coulson continued, raising his eyebrows at me. 'We were starting to think these may all be related to the actions of one individual, although at that point we didn't have any proof. We kept looking for more disturbances, though. Like the attack in Nice, six days later. The few days the TIMES came out with a special edition on a trio of some very interesting freedom fighters that were present at the battle in Novi Grad. By then, we knew who we were looking for. That's when you and met Agent May and I, pretending to be tourists. We were trying to gather intel on you and your friends. We didn't want to bring you in right away without knowing what we were dealing with.

  'We were arranging an extraction team when the HMS Adelaide was attacked, and you three disappeared off the map.' Skye continued. 'For two days, we thought we lost you. Then, at 9:32AM yesterday morning, Tower Bridge failed to clean for an inc
oming freighter. The freighter failed to slow down in time, and crashed into the center of the bridge. At the same time, two separate explosions went off beneath each tower, blocking off exits for anyone trapped on the bridge. Then a helicopter appeared, bearing hostile agents of an unknown faction, which dropped onto the bridge below and engaged in combat with three unknown Enhanced individuals. They captured two of them, and eliminated the third. Or so we thought.'

  'We have video coverage of people on the walkway above you,' Skye said, pulling out her own tablet and pulling up a video, showing me shaky footage from what appeared to be from a cell phone. 'Civilians saw you falling in the river and never coming back up. We thought you were dead. That is, until we got reports of a deranged girl wandering the streets, bloody and speaking in Russian. At first, we thought you were a victim of the attack. It didn't take us long to figure out that wasn't the case. Coulson went out to collect you, and now you're here.'