[fic] Operation Overlook
Title: Operation Overlook
Rating: PG-13
Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Avengers, Captain America: The First Avenger, Thor.
Pairings: Gen
Warnings: Some swearing.
Summary: Maria Hill receives a cryptic set of orders that will change her life as she knows it.
Word Count: 2140
Author’s Notes: Inspired by this photoset and this post. I just couldn’t help myself. If I could add AO3 tags here, I would include "Women Being Badass." And maybe count this as my Heroine Big Bang entry if I write it fast enough. I was going to leave this as a comment fic for tielan, but it got too big.
The orders arrived in the middle of Banner’s seminar on gamma radiation. He’d promised SHIELD five training sessions, but this was the first Maria was able to make, so she ignored the orders. He might not like SHIELD and she might not like him, there was no denying that Dr. Bruce Banner was a fascinating presenter. When the seminar ended, Maria opened the orders on her tablet. They were nonspecific: a time, uniform regulations (civvies, but some physical exertion might be required, so dress wisely), with weapons not only allowed but encouraged. No objectives. No other agents assigned. And nothing she could say to Fury that could get him to drop even so much as a hint about it.
Frustrated, she rose at 0515 and spent an hour in the gym, pounding some of that anger into a punching bag. Rogers trundled in at 0600, sleepy and rumpled, so she let him have the bag and went for a run. She ate breakfast, dealt with admin issues she couldn’t handle in the field, and was waiting for her ride on deck at 0815. Quinjet, she noted, not a chopper, which meant whatever this was, SHIELD wanted it under the radar.
Under the radar appeared to be a field in Mineola, New York, with the Quinjet taking off the second she was down the ramp and stranding her on Long Island. She spotted the road two hundred yards away and the black SUV waiting. “Agent Hill?” the driver asked. There hadn’t been a code-phrase, so Maria nodded. “I’m Cho, your liaison.”
“For what?”
Cho, who could have been Coulson’s Asian cousin, smiled. “You’ll see. Hop in.”
“I hate surprises,” Maria said, which wasn’t a good sign, especially as their destination was a clothing boutique in Brooklyn where Cho gave the shop-owner a password. When a secret door opened in the wall, she sighed.
Cho led her downstairs through a set of corridors. The décor was 1930s, and it smelled musty, like subway tunnels. Past a certain point, 1930s furniture was traded for high definition monitors and ergonomic office chairs filled with scientists in lab coats. It only took her a moment to put it together: this was all possibly connected to Rogers. She’d heard they had kept the SSR lab that Erskine and Howard Stark had used to bake Rogers from an asthmatic, underweight soldier into Captain America, though she hadn’t known it was still active.
The skin on the back of Maria’s neck began to crawl; she knew the purpose of this lab. Was she about to lay witness to a new Hulk being created? This must be Nick Fury’s idea of a sick joke, as he knew exactly how she felt about his reliance on super-powered humans that could just as easily turn and destroy civilization as they could save it. For every Captain America, after all, there was a Hulk. And for every Hulk, there was an Abomination. And yet, here was Nick Fury, apparently expecting that Maria would watch them create the newest in a long line of disasters.
Her suspicions didn’t ease when she was led into an observatory-the observatory, she realized, the one that had been blown up in the ’40s-overlooking some kind of operating theater. In the theater, more scientists in lab coats were gathered around what looked like two metal coffins in the center of the room, or along a wall of arrays and monitors.
“This is where I leave you,” Cho told her. “I’m your ride back, so come find me after.”
Maria thanked him, but didn’t take a seat. She planted herself where she could see the entire room and waited. When the woman entered, her expression alone gave her away as the agent in charge, though the pantsuit helped. “Agent Strathmore,” the woman said, holding out her hand. “Thank you for your patience.”
“Why am I here?” was all Maria said as she shook Strathmore’s hand.
Strathmore, at least, had the decency to wince. “I hate to sound enigmatic, but you’re here because it’s important you observe this part in order to gain a better understanding of the project. Your new teammates are already here.”
“Project? Is this a joint-op? What level clearance?”
“In a manner of speaking, it’s a joint-op, yes.” Somebody apparently buzzed Strathmore on her ear-comm, for she tilted her head to the side with the universal expression of somebody you can’t hear is talking to me, and nodded to herself. When she spoke, she turned away from Maria. “Yes, the third operative is on the premises. You are go for the next phase.”
On the ground floor, excitement and anticipation began to thrum through the air. The scientists’ movements suddenly coordinated, becoming more like a dance than a muddled mess. Everybody donned goggles and took up stations along the wall of computers as one of the two berths began to glow faintly purple-white at the edges.
“Agent Strathmore, is something going to come out of one of those that I’m going to have to end with a bullet?” Maria asked.
Strathmore’s grin flashed. “I hope not, Agent. But you might want to sit down.”
“I prefer to stand.”
“All right.” Strathmore turned back to the windows. “I suppose I could provide a little background while we wait: six months ago, my team was contacted by one of the few remaining SSR scientists.”
Maria glanced over, sharply. “SSR was disbanded in ’53.”
“Or so we thought. But it turns out there was more to the story than that. After their failed attempt to replicate the Erskine formula, they turned to other avenues in research. I won’t bore you with details-you can request that information before you leave, if you like-but some of their experiments were well ahead of their time, hindered only by the lack of technology, which meant that they were sadly halted when the operation went incognito. With Stark Industries making breakthroughs in the clean energy field, however…”
Maria figured she really wasn’t going to like what she was about to hear. Also, she was amazed that none of this had crossed her notice. It really must have been buried deep to be above her clearance level.
“Let’s just say things became a great deal more possible. With a little help from friends, of course.” Strathmore nodded as the berth that had been glowing went dim and scientists began to crowd around it. Maria’s hand inched closer to her Glock when it became obvious that they were about to open it, and possibly unleash a Hulk. She’d watched the security tapes from the Helicarrier too many times to count, and she was still amazed that Romanoff had survived that encounter through the engineering tunnels.
Maria had no doubts she would ever be that lucky, and there weren’t any Norse demigods to pull her ass out of the fire.
Or not, she saw. The lid opened, revealing not a man but a woman. Though the woman wore SHIELD tank top and sweats rather than Asgardian armor, Maria recognized her immediately. She’d watched the surveillance from Puento Antigua too many times not to: Lady Sif of Asgard.
Lady Sif’s eyes popped open and she sat up, rubbing her left arm, which had a needle sticking out of it. There were electrodes on her forehead and upper chest, but she didn’t seem at all perturbed as she grinned over at one of the doctors. Her friendly punch to his upper arm had the man limping away, clutching the now-useless limb. Maria’s eyebrows went up.
“Lady Sif, as you can see, allowed us to use some of the Asgardian technology to ensure that this experiment is a success,” Strathmore said, and the woman in question sprang lightly out of the berth and began peeling off electrodes. Maria nearly winced. After Madripoor, they’d stuck those all over her to make sure she didn’t secretly have the X-gene. Taking them off had stung. Sif didn’t even flinch. “In addition, she’s agreed to work with us on the operation. We’re fortunate to have her.”
“Operation?” Maria asked.
Strathmore hummed in the back of her throat. “In time.”
Great. It appeared that she’d met the non-eye-patch’d, woman version of Nick Fury. Maria watched the scientists direct Sif toward a set of stairs, which the Norsewoman took two at a time. A second later, Sif entered the observatory. Below, scientists began to clear out of the theater, leaving the other berth silent and dark.
“Ah, Lady Sif,” Strathmore said, directing the woman over to them. “Allow me to introduce you to Agent Maria Hill. I don’t believe you’ve had the pleasure.”
Sif’s grin was bright and a little off-kilter, but she seemed genuinely happy to meet Maria. “I have not, but my fellow warrior Thor has had many fine things to say about your bravery, Agent Maria Hill.”
“Pleased to make your acquaintance,” Maria said, shaking her hand. It felt not unlike having her hand crushed in a vise.
“Agent Strathmore says that we are to be teammates,” Sif said. “I look forward to many battles with you.”
“Yes,” Maria said, not quite sure how formal you had to be to address such high praise from a Norse demigoddess. “Here’s to kicking ass, I guess.”
In the name of what and who for, she still had no idea, but Maria was pretty sure Fury was out there laughing his ass off at her now.
Sif’s grin took on a hint of genuine pleasure. “Indeed.”
“We’re about to start,” Strathmore said, directing their attention back to the theater. Now that the room had been cleared of all scientists, the lights began to flicker overhead. For all of her jollity, Maria noticed that Sif tensed just as much as she did, their eyes cutting to the lights overhead and then to the floor below as it began to tremor ever so slightly under their feet.
“We’re tapped into Stark’s clean energy grid,” Strathmore said, “as it’s the only thing powerful enough for what we need. Might want to cover your eyes-this might get a little bright.”
That turned out to be an understatement. Maria and Sif had only to wait thirty seconds before the closed bay began to glow, softly at first and then blindingly. The seismic activity increased just as slowly, going from tremors to shakes until the floor was actually heaving.
Maria put her hand on her Glock and cursed every scientist that opened Pandora’s Box. If she died in Brooklyn, she’d never live it down.
Light burst out of the lip of the coffin-like berth like a supernova, leaving a searing streaking of white across Maria’s vision. She threw an arm up as the floor gave one last heave, throwing a couple of scientists off of their feet and making the agents shift in place to stay standing-and just like that, it was over. There was the whine-hum of machines who’d been pushed past their limits powering down, and the acrid stench of burning wafted on the air.
“What the hell was that?” Maria asked.
“I’m hoping it was a success,” Strathmore said, and Maria was once again reminded of Nick Fury at his most infuriating.
Below, in the laboratory, doors burst open. One scientist rushed to the lid of the berth and immediately fell back with a burned hand. Sif’s chuff of breath told a clear story of what the warrior thought of that bit of idiocy.
“Well, let’s go down and meet the third member of your team,” Strathmore said as scientists were dispatched to fetch tools to pry the berth open. She cut a path through those who were still in the observation room, her high heels clicking with authority that Maria couldn’t help but respect. She followed more cautiously, leaving her hand near her weapon just in case.
By the time they made it down the stairs, a scientist had fetched a crowbar and was prying the berth open. Metal creaked loudly, resisting the crowbar. Maria noted that everybody was giving the berth plenty of space, which was helpful in case all hell broke loose. It was like the entire room was holding its collective breath, except for Sif, who merely looked interested and a tiny bit excited.
Finally, the berth lid gave way to the crowbar. Strathmore turned to Maria and Sif. “My Lady, Agent Hill, I’d like to introduce you to the third member of Operation Outlook and your new partner.”
When the woman in the berth sat up and coughed, Maria did reach for her gun. She recognized her, of course, but-“That’s impossible.”
Sitting there, wearing a SHIELD uniform was the very same Peggy Carter that Maria Hill had watched die of old age not six months before. And she looked not a day older than she had in 1943.
Rating: PG-13
Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Avengers, Captain America: The First Avenger, Thor.
Pairings: Gen
Warnings: Some swearing.
Summary: Maria Hill receives a cryptic set of orders that will change her life as she knows it.
Word Count: 2140
Author’s Notes: Inspired by this photoset and this post. I just couldn’t help myself. If I could add AO3 tags here, I would include "Women Being Badass." And maybe count this as my Heroine Big Bang entry if I write it fast enough. I was going to leave this as a comment fic for tielan, but it got too big.
The orders arrived in the middle of Banner’s seminar on gamma radiation. He’d promised SHIELD five training sessions, but this was the first Maria was able to make, so she ignored the orders. He might not like SHIELD and she might not like him, there was no denying that Dr. Bruce Banner was a fascinating presenter. When the seminar ended, Maria opened the orders on her tablet. They were nonspecific: a time, uniform regulations (civvies, but some physical exertion might be required, so dress wisely), with weapons not only allowed but encouraged. No objectives. No other agents assigned. And nothing she could say to Fury that could get him to drop even so much as a hint about it.
Frustrated, she rose at 0515 and spent an hour in the gym, pounding some of that anger into a punching bag. Rogers trundled in at 0600, sleepy and rumpled, so she let him have the bag and went for a run. She ate breakfast, dealt with admin issues she couldn’t handle in the field, and was waiting for her ride on deck at 0815. Quinjet, she noted, not a chopper, which meant whatever this was, SHIELD wanted it under the radar.
Under the radar appeared to be a field in Mineola, New York, with the Quinjet taking off the second she was down the ramp and stranding her on Long Island. She spotted the road two hundred yards away and the black SUV waiting. “Agent Hill?” the driver asked. There hadn’t been a code-phrase, so Maria nodded. “I’m Cho, your liaison.”
“For what?”
Cho, who could have been Coulson’s Asian cousin, smiled. “You’ll see. Hop in.”
“I hate surprises,” Maria said, which wasn’t a good sign, especially as their destination was a clothing boutique in Brooklyn where Cho gave the shop-owner a password. When a secret door opened in the wall, she sighed.
Cho led her downstairs through a set of corridors. The décor was 1930s, and it smelled musty, like subway tunnels. Past a certain point, 1930s furniture was traded for high definition monitors and ergonomic office chairs filled with scientists in lab coats. It only took her a moment to put it together: this was all possibly connected to Rogers. She’d heard they had kept the SSR lab that Erskine and Howard Stark had used to bake Rogers from an asthmatic, underweight soldier into Captain America, though she hadn’t known it was still active.
The skin on the back of Maria’s neck began to crawl; she knew the purpose of this lab. Was she about to lay witness to a new Hulk being created? This must be Nick Fury’s idea of a sick joke, as he knew exactly how she felt about his reliance on super-powered humans that could just as easily turn and destroy civilization as they could save it. For every Captain America, after all, there was a Hulk. And for every Hulk, there was an Abomination. And yet, here was Nick Fury, apparently expecting that Maria would watch them create the newest in a long line of disasters.
Her suspicions didn’t ease when she was led into an observatory-the observatory, she realized, the one that had been blown up in the ’40s-overlooking some kind of operating theater. In the theater, more scientists in lab coats were gathered around what looked like two metal coffins in the center of the room, or along a wall of arrays and monitors.
“This is where I leave you,” Cho told her. “I’m your ride back, so come find me after.”
Maria thanked him, but didn’t take a seat. She planted herself where she could see the entire room and waited. When the woman entered, her expression alone gave her away as the agent in charge, though the pantsuit helped. “Agent Strathmore,” the woman said, holding out her hand. “Thank you for your patience.”
“Why am I here?” was all Maria said as she shook Strathmore’s hand.
Strathmore, at least, had the decency to wince. “I hate to sound enigmatic, but you’re here because it’s important you observe this part in order to gain a better understanding of the project. Your new teammates are already here.”
“Project? Is this a joint-op? What level clearance?”
“In a manner of speaking, it’s a joint-op, yes.” Somebody apparently buzzed Strathmore on her ear-comm, for she tilted her head to the side with the universal expression of somebody you can’t hear is talking to me, and nodded to herself. When she spoke, she turned away from Maria. “Yes, the third operative is on the premises. You are go for the next phase.”
On the ground floor, excitement and anticipation began to thrum through the air. The scientists’ movements suddenly coordinated, becoming more like a dance than a muddled mess. Everybody donned goggles and took up stations along the wall of computers as one of the two berths began to glow faintly purple-white at the edges.
“Agent Strathmore, is something going to come out of one of those that I’m going to have to end with a bullet?” Maria asked.
Strathmore’s grin flashed. “I hope not, Agent. But you might want to sit down.”
“I prefer to stand.”
“All right.” Strathmore turned back to the windows. “I suppose I could provide a little background while we wait: six months ago, my team was contacted by one of the few remaining SSR scientists.”
Maria glanced over, sharply. “SSR was disbanded in ’53.”
“Or so we thought. But it turns out there was more to the story than that. After their failed attempt to replicate the Erskine formula, they turned to other avenues in research. I won’t bore you with details-you can request that information before you leave, if you like-but some of their experiments were well ahead of their time, hindered only by the lack of technology, which meant that they were sadly halted when the operation went incognito. With Stark Industries making breakthroughs in the clean energy field, however…”
Maria figured she really wasn’t going to like what she was about to hear. Also, she was amazed that none of this had crossed her notice. It really must have been buried deep to be above her clearance level.
“Let’s just say things became a great deal more possible. With a little help from friends, of course.” Strathmore nodded as the berth that had been glowing went dim and scientists began to crowd around it. Maria’s hand inched closer to her Glock when it became obvious that they were about to open it, and possibly unleash a Hulk. She’d watched the security tapes from the Helicarrier too many times to count, and she was still amazed that Romanoff had survived that encounter through the engineering tunnels.
Maria had no doubts she would ever be that lucky, and there weren’t any Norse demigods to pull her ass out of the fire.
Or not, she saw. The lid opened, revealing not a man but a woman. Though the woman wore SHIELD tank top and sweats rather than Asgardian armor, Maria recognized her immediately. She’d watched the surveillance from Puento Antigua too many times not to: Lady Sif of Asgard.
Lady Sif’s eyes popped open and she sat up, rubbing her left arm, which had a needle sticking out of it. There were electrodes on her forehead and upper chest, but she didn’t seem at all perturbed as she grinned over at one of the doctors. Her friendly punch to his upper arm had the man limping away, clutching the now-useless limb. Maria’s eyebrows went up.
“Lady Sif, as you can see, allowed us to use some of the Asgardian technology to ensure that this experiment is a success,” Strathmore said, and the woman in question sprang lightly out of the berth and began peeling off electrodes. Maria nearly winced. After Madripoor, they’d stuck those all over her to make sure she didn’t secretly have the X-gene. Taking them off had stung. Sif didn’t even flinch. “In addition, she’s agreed to work with us on the operation. We’re fortunate to have her.”
“Operation?” Maria asked.
Strathmore hummed in the back of her throat. “In time.”
Great. It appeared that she’d met the non-eye-patch’d, woman version of Nick Fury. Maria watched the scientists direct Sif toward a set of stairs, which the Norsewoman took two at a time. A second later, Sif entered the observatory. Below, scientists began to clear out of the theater, leaving the other berth silent and dark.
“Ah, Lady Sif,” Strathmore said, directing the woman over to them. “Allow me to introduce you to Agent Maria Hill. I don’t believe you’ve had the pleasure.”
Sif’s grin was bright and a little off-kilter, but she seemed genuinely happy to meet Maria. “I have not, but my fellow warrior Thor has had many fine things to say about your bravery, Agent Maria Hill.”
“Pleased to make your acquaintance,” Maria said, shaking her hand. It felt not unlike having her hand crushed in a vise.
“Agent Strathmore says that we are to be teammates,” Sif said. “I look forward to many battles with you.”
“Yes,” Maria said, not quite sure how formal you had to be to address such high praise from a Norse demigoddess. “Here’s to kicking ass, I guess.”
In the name of what and who for, she still had no idea, but Maria was pretty sure Fury was out there laughing his ass off at her now.
Sif’s grin took on a hint of genuine pleasure. “Indeed.”
“We’re about to start,” Strathmore said, directing their attention back to the theater. Now that the room had been cleared of all scientists, the lights began to flicker overhead. For all of her jollity, Maria noticed that Sif tensed just as much as she did, their eyes cutting to the lights overhead and then to the floor below as it began to tremor ever so slightly under their feet.
“We’re tapped into Stark’s clean energy grid,” Strathmore said, “as it’s the only thing powerful enough for what we need. Might want to cover your eyes-this might get a little bright.”
That turned out to be an understatement. Maria and Sif had only to wait thirty seconds before the closed bay began to glow, softly at first and then blindingly. The seismic activity increased just as slowly, going from tremors to shakes until the floor was actually heaving.
Maria put her hand on her Glock and cursed every scientist that opened Pandora’s Box. If she died in Brooklyn, she’d never live it down.
Light burst out of the lip of the coffin-like berth like a supernova, leaving a searing streaking of white across Maria’s vision. She threw an arm up as the floor gave one last heave, throwing a couple of scientists off of their feet and making the agents shift in place to stay standing-and just like that, it was over. There was the whine-hum of machines who’d been pushed past their limits powering down, and the acrid stench of burning wafted on the air.
“What the hell was that?” Maria asked.
“I’m hoping it was a success,” Strathmore said, and Maria was once again reminded of Nick Fury at his most infuriating.
Below, in the laboratory, doors burst open. One scientist rushed to the lid of the berth and immediately fell back with a burned hand. Sif’s chuff of breath told a clear story of what the warrior thought of that bit of idiocy.
“Well, let’s go down and meet the third member of your team,” Strathmore said as scientists were dispatched to fetch tools to pry the berth open. She cut a path through those who were still in the observation room, her high heels clicking with authority that Maria couldn’t help but respect. She followed more cautiously, leaving her hand near her weapon just in case.
By the time they made it down the stairs, a scientist had fetched a crowbar and was prying the berth open. Metal creaked loudly, resisting the crowbar. Maria noted that everybody was giving the berth plenty of space, which was helpful in case all hell broke loose. It was like the entire room was holding its collective breath, except for Sif, who merely looked interested and a tiny bit excited.
Finally, the berth lid gave way to the crowbar. Strathmore turned to Maria and Sif. “My Lady, Agent Hill, I’d like to introduce you to the third member of Operation Outlook and your new partner.”
When the woman in the berth sat up and coughed, Maria did reach for her gun. She recognized her, of course, but-“That’s impossible.”
Sitting there, wearing a SHIELD uniform was the very same Peggy Carter that Maria Hill had watched die of old age not six months before. And she looked not a day older than she had in 1943.