Indistinguishable From Magic(3/?)
Title: Indistinguishable From Magic(3/?)
Author: Christmas Pterodactyl
Rating: PG-13 to R
Word count: 6,423 words
Disclaimer: The author makes no claims of ownership to any material that may be recognized by the public. Additionally, he makes no income or profits from this exercise.
Spoilers: Primarily Episode 03x03 - Remedial Chaos Theory
Summary: “Booker, are you afraid of God?” “No. But I’m afraid of you.” Elizabeth and Booker DeWitt - Bioshock Infinite
Notes: Part three. The ride just got a little bumpier. As always, pardon the mistakes and messes and typos, etc.
Morning found Britta Perry with a fierce headache and a lack of sleep. She’d already tried her boss’ phone several times to no avail, and the penthouse room he’d taken for the week was empty, save for several expensive suits and a few laptops. Britta never liked when she was stuck searching for Jeff, and that most likely meant he’d stayed out with female companionship, or he was working in his workshop.
She knew he wasn’t with anyone last night, save for the bossy policewoman from the previous evening, and there was no way that he cross that boundary. Despite the many eccentricities of Jeff Winger, he wouldn’t sleep with a law enforcement officer on a whim after he’d been arrested. Or maybe he would, what with the short skirt and prominent breasts for her shorter stature.
Loathe to ask where exactly he was, Perry finally dialed a special number on her phone and sighed. She hated doing this, but today wasn’t a day for him to be missing, with the police matter requiring his full attention.
“Yes Ms. Perry?”
“A.B.E.D., where is he?”
“He was expecting your call,” the AI told her matter-of-factly, “and he wanted me to inform you that he’ll be at his lab in London.”
“Winger doesn’t have a workshop or lab in London.”
“He does as of 5:21am Greenwich Mean Time. He has requested you meet him at the Perry Pavilion-”
“What do you mean the Perry Pavilion!”
“I believe he meant it as a joke, ma’am.”
“Of course he meant it as a joke A.B.E.D.!”
“Shall I arrange a cab, ma’am?”
Britta pushed END and slid the phone back into a pocket. Sometimes she hated her boss. Too bad he paid so well. It certainly paid for the three cats she kept, all formerly in dreadful health.
_______
“It’s not my workshop.” The Senior Inspector descended the stairs onto the ground floor of the, marveling at the various wires and cords leading to large monitors made of semi-transparent glass. In one corner were men assembling large fabrication machines, in another corner a small kitchen with marble countertops were being installed. Yet in a third part of the room, a series of servers were being installed, which connected themselves via colorful cables to a central stainless steel semi-circle shaped desk. And sitting in the middle of the organized chaos, little to Annie’s surprise, was a rather casually dressed Jeff Winger. “I mean, it’s my workshop, but it’s not my real workshop.” He was practically yelling over the din of the music in the background and the workman in the foreground. Winger tapped a button on the odd looking keyboard in front of him turning the music off, though he’d still have to speak loudly over the sounds of the various workers in the warehouse.
Stepping forward, the inspector looked around once more, whistling how impressed she was. “You built this in a night?”
“A night? Nah, mostly just early morning. Thinking of building a skyscraper taller than Canary Wharf later this afternoon. Should be finished by high tea.”
“Ever the egotist. And it’s One Canada Square.”
“Ever the unimpressed.” Jeff swiveled around to face her. “Does everyone drink tea here?”
“A common misconception, I happen to like the Starbucks on High Street. Wonderful coffee and so near my flat.” He chuckled at her comment, and then swiveled back around to the various screens in front of him, getting back to what he was working on. Edison tried to make heads and tails of what she was seeing from the other side of the transparent screens, but it was just too far beyond her significant knowledge of science.
“Did you send that sample in?”
“It’s in the lab right now. Took it up earlier this morning. Have you run yours yet?”
Jeff motioned towards a large machine humming near the fabrication area. “Put it in about three hours ago. I guess maybe another fifteen minutes.” Looking around her, she searched for a chair to sit in, only find a bar chair still wrapped in its shipping shrink wrap. “I’d say have a seat, but I’m still unpacking.”
“How did you get this all set up so quickly?”
“Money.”
“That’s your answer to everything, isn’t it?” Jeff turned around and peered at her with a bit of a smirk.
“It helps. What was in the vault yesterday?”
“What do you mean?”
He jumped out of his chair and walked over to testing equipment, looking at the timers and readouts. “I was thinking about it last night. Here I am, missing a party in my honor, helping the government; and I have no clue what was stolen. So what was stolen?”
“I never said anything was stolen. We brought you in to investigate the murders.”
“By having me take a look at a large vault door that was ripped off its hinges.”
“That was one aspect of the investigation.”
“But doors like that guard something, something that you don’t want people to get into. So what was in there?”
“It’s classified.”
“Bullshit.”
“I’m sorry you feel that way. Do you have results for me Mr. Winger?”
“You can call me Jeff, you know.”
“I know I can, Mr. Winger,” She repeated his last name with a certain sarcastic emphasis. “I just want the results of what you found so interesting last night.”
“Fine, fine. No need to get grumpy, Grumpy Bear.” The Mass Spectrometer, which he was monitoring from his desk, started beeping, and both billionaire and investigator looked at each other and then the machine. “That was quick.”
Quickly back at his desk, his hands flew across two keyboards; one, a high-end QWERTY keyboard she knew cost more than what she would find any electronics store in the country. The other was more alien to her, looking similar to the phone he had the night before, covered in strange symbols as well as words like FILE MANAGEMENT, OPEN, REVERT, SIN, COS, TAN and other words she would never in her life figure out how they belonged on a keyboard. Screens and windows popped open and closed, flashed various images, and Annie was unable to keep up with what going on on the four different screens in front of her.
Annie Edison had a very organized mind. Over the course of her entire academic career and all the way through her training at Hendon Police College and the Agency Training Center, she received excellent marks and comments on her deduction, analysis and interpretation skills. But the amount and type of information that was pouring out in front of her was beyond her.
Jeff had no troubles keeping up, he was in his element. And the flow information was continuous, so much so that he sometimes forgot that other people in the room were unaccustomed to how he operated, cerebrally. He absorbed it like a sponge, intuitively taking in everything he needed and discarding what he didn’t.
“Wait.” The screens stopped on a series of graphs and charts. “No…no, wait a second.” He was out of his chair again, and she could barely keep up with him as he seemed to launch himself all over the place. Winger walked out into the middle of the room. “I hope these are running.” Muttering to himself, he clapped twice. “A.B.E.D., up and at’em.”
“Of course sir.”
“Everyone, take off for the rest of the day.” Jeff hollered to all the workers who looked up in surprise. “Actually, see my assistant Britta before you leave. She’ll give you a bonus, and access to the Expo, as well as lunch on me.” Many of them shrugged and put away their tools. Several of them, men and women came up to him to personally thank the man (or have their picture taken with him), who graciously accepted it and motioned them to the door. The large warehouse was cleared within minutes, leaving himself and Annie alone, together. “Holoprojectors on, A.B.E.D.”
“Yes, sir.”
The room darkened and Annie had to blink a few times to make sure she wasn’t seeing things, watching as the images on the screens she was looking at moments ago floated into the air around Jeff. Never in her life had she seen such a thing. All around her, boxes of information and wireframe models sprung up from objects; from common, everyday objects like the bar chairs and the pencils on his desk, to the various machines and surprisingly, two cars that she’d not noticed before. The bewildered woman poked at one of the ethereal boxes, and it enlarged, giving her a detailed description of the rather simple looking pencil.
“This can’t be right.” Annie looked up to see manic technologist grabbing the floating images, waving his hands and manipulating them. “No.” He stopped moving, then put a hand to his chin and contemplated for several seconds. “A.B.E.D., is this correct?”
Taking a few timid steps forward, unnecessarily dodging floating elements of data in the air she took a place next to him and stared at what had Jeff so concerned. In front of her were two spheres made up of smaller spheres interconnected by a framework of lines. “Yes, sir, the sample you collected is the same atomic weight as what is currently on file.”
“How.” He turned to Annie, glancing down, and grimacing. “How the hell did you get a hold of adamantium?”
“Excuse me?”
He pointed at one of the spheres forcefully. “Ad-a-man-ti-um!”
“Maybe if you explain what you’re ranting about-”
“The dust. Last night, I had you gather those dust samples for me, remember?” He stopped and slapped his forehead with his palm, grasping some of his perfectly coifed hair and wanting to yank it out. “I’m an idiot. I should have seen it the whole time.” Turning back on her, he again pointed to the two spheres. “Those are molecules. The building blocks of everything.”
“I know what a molecule is.”
“Those molecules right there shouldn’t be there though. You had a door made of adamantium and it was punched through by someone with a fist made of vibranium. How the hell did the Brits get adamantium!”
“Look, I didn’t install the vault door, and I wasn’t there to authorize them to put in a door made of Adam Ant-” Annie replied snidely.
“Adamantium. And as Britta says, ‘duh doy.’ Otherwise you look really good for your age. 1947 and all”
“Then explain it to me. What’s so special about it?”
“It’s the hardest substance known to man.”
“I thought that was diamond.”
“Well, you’re not beyond hope.” Jeff muttered. “Yes, diamond is one of the hardest naturally occurring substances on Earth. But adamantium makes it look like glass. It’s too expensive to mass produce. And you have a door made of it sitting off its hinges.”
“It is a high security vault for their collection. What about the…vibranium, you called it?”
“That’s what has me absolutely confused. It’s a material that absorbs kinetic energy and sound waves, making it harder than most alloys and titanium. And with enough kinetic energy absorbed, it apparently broke through an adamantium door.”
“That sounds incredible, but I guess it makes sense.”
“NO! It doesn’t!”
“Okay, feel free to enlighten me on why it’s impossible then Mr. Winger.”
“It’s Jeff, remember, and it’s impossible because the only vibranium in the world is right here.” He tapped his chest, specifically the arc reactor with its continuous blue glow. Pulling his shirt up and off, he revealed his tanned chest and to Annie’s amusement, a clearly defined set of six-pack. Once more, she couldn’t help but admire Winger as prime specimen of the male population. Shaking the thought from her mind, she focused again. “And you wouldn’t believe the trouble I had to go through to get this much.”
“So you don’t have more money than Merlin?”
“Yeah…no. I had to synthesize it.”
“You can do that?”
“Uh, yeah, I can. I did it in my basement with a jury-rigged particle accelerator and a hangover. It doesn’t occur anywhere else. God only knows how my father was able to make a molecular model of it. So, back to my first question. What was stolen?”
“Nothing was stolen.”
“And I said bullshit. You don’t have a door that big, that heavy, that…exotic, just sitting in a museum. You don’t have ten people dead and a hole in an unbreakable door for nothing!”
Annie backed up slightly, rather surprised at him. “It’s classified.”
“What was in there!”
“IT’S CLASSIFIED!”
“Fine! I’m calling the PM, the Queen, and whoever the hell else, and they can tell me. A.B.E.D., dial up-”
“NO!” For her height and weight, Jeff was wholly surprised at how handily she had just knocked him to the floor, and was now holding a wooden dowel in her hand, pointing it directly at his chest.
“What the hell!?”
“Jeff, I’m sorry, but I can’t let you talk to anyone about this.” She thought for a moment, then pointed the wand at his head. “Silencio. I’m sorry.” Winger’s mouth opened and she could see him trying to speak, but there was no sound came from his mouth. He was stunned by what he was experiencing, unsure of how to proceed. For now, he just listened. “I can’t tell you what was stolen without permission; because if I did, my government would cause you to forget everything you were told. And I don’t want them hurting that brilliant intellect of yours.”
How very kind of you. He thought at her as hard as he could.
“Now, if you promise not to yell, I’ll cancel the spell. But if you get out of hand, we’ll have to go through this all over again. Understand?” Jeff nodded slowly, his face red with built-up anger. She flicked the small stick in her hand, softly muttering a single word. “Finite.”
“What. The. Hell.” He scrambled away from her, in an awkward sort of crabwalk. Just as quickly, he was on his feet, giving her a wide berth.
“I’m really sorry I had to do that.”
“What the hell are you?”
Annie’s eyes went wide and her own mind was racing, unsure how events were going to proceed. “I’m a witch.” She said simply.
“You’re kidding me. You’re seriously fucking with me or something. Hypnosis, right?”
“No. I’m a witch. This is my wand. Here, take a look.” She set it on the desk gently; then backed away from large semi-circular workstation slowly, giving him more space and perhaps instilling a degree of trust that she wouldn’t grab it and curse him again. Winger stepped forward and sat in his chair, taking the offending object in his hands.
His immediate observation was that the wand was made of a light, yet sturdy wood. It weighed less than a pound, was about ten inches long and as thick as the circumference of his thumb. It didn’t feel like a pencil or pen, too thick to be held between fingers as a writing utensil, but he easily twirled it around in his hand. Palming the grip, he experimentally flicked it a few times, and then sat it back on the desk. Winger gave it a careful glance as he let her claim it once more, wherein she slid it back up the right sleeve of her blazer.
“So…Harry Potter?”
“No. He doesn’t exist. But all fiction is based on some truth. The books were a misinformation campaign because some people were getting too close to the truth.”
“The truth being…?”
“That there is a subset of humanity that has the ability to cast spells and use magic.”
“How big?”
“To our knowledge, out of the six billion people living in the world there is about seven-hundred thousand witches and wizards. We stay to ourselves, though many of us venture out into the world and work with normal people.”
Jeff sniffed. “We’re not ‘muggles?’”
She chuckled then made a visible show of flicking her wrist. Her wand shot out her sleeve, which she caught with practiced ease. Waving the wand, a comfortable desk chair much like his appeared, and she seated herself. “Much better. No, I think Miss Rowling is a fan of The Kinks.” He understood the reference instantly. “In terms you can understand, I guess I am ‘muggle-born,’ so I had a firmer grasp of the real world than others in Wizarding society. I’m a liason between the Ministry of Magic of the United Kingdoms and the Ministry of Defence Police.”
“Political appointment than? Wonderful. Always loved politics.”
“And yes, I picked up on the thinly-veiled sarcasm. No, I went through the training, and had to be monitored to make sure I wasn’t using any of my…special abilities to cheat or get ahead. I earned my position.”
They sat in silence. He wanted to ask more, but he was still in some shock over the whole incident, and he honestly didn’t want to go through it all again. The quiet was interrupted by the ringing of her mobile, which she summoned out of her purse.
“It’s the office. Do you mind?”
“By all means.” He turned back to his keyboard and started typing away again, blocking out her voice, melodious as it occasionally was.
And just as quickly as she’d answered, she was tapping the END button. “That was my boss. I have a meeting in twenty minutes.”
“I’ll be here. Not like I’m doing much else.” He replied dismissively.
“Okay…. Give me a few hours. Let me get permission from the higher-ups, and then we can get together and crack open this case a little more.”
Jeff glanced at the brunette, and shrugged his shoulders. “Yeah.”
“Will you keep working on this? Please?”
“Get your permission. Because if I’m gonna help, and trust me when I say you’re gonna need my help, then I want to know everything.”
“I promise.” She pocketed the phone back into her satchel and departed. She certainly wasn’t looking forward to the meeting about to take place.
_______
In under an hour, she’d freshened up, and was now wearing a plain black robe over her blazer and trousers, though open in the front for ease of movement. She loathed having to wear such a garment when meeting with her superiors in the Ministry of Magic, but it was one more burden she suffered in quiet dignity.
This time, she sat as guest in the office of her visitor from the night before. He was tall, perhaps even taller than Jeff Winger, but with white hair and rose-colored glasses. He wore a blue robe with yellow stars all over, and a floppy hat of the same starry pattern. The stocky old man watched his young subordinate carefully, then looked back at the parchment in front of him. Adjusting his glasses that occasionally slid down his nose, he regarded the young woman in front of him with some degree of respect, knowing how hard she worked as his liaison to Her Majesty’s Government.
“It’s all there Minister Hawthorne.”
“I can see that. Did Winger do it?”
“I can say, unequivocally, no, sir.” Pierce Hawthorne looked back to the parchment again, unimpressed with her answer.
“The evidence and scans you did, Auror Edison, say otherwise.”
“I know sir. But the scans are wrong. I’ve seen the video evidence the museum recorded. I’ve had it verified, and I’ve scanned Winger. He’s not magical, so he can’t apparate, and his alibi checks out.”
“And his technology tells you this?”
“Yes, sir.”
Leaning back in his chair, the leather sighing with his movement, Minister Hawthorne steepled his hands and thought for several moments before speaking again. “How much does the normal Ministry know about what was stolen?”
“Nothing. The museum staff is still accounting for all the items in the vault. The notice-me-not wards are still up, and only the one item was stolen.”
Pierce shook his head in disbelief. “I can’t stress how important it is you find it.”
“I know, sir. To that end, I want to suggest something.”
“Go on.”
Annie braced herself for rejection. “I want to inform Winger of the item, and give him information that will help us recover it.” An eyebrow raised, Pierce said nothing, but motioned for her to continue. “If Winger has all the facts, I believe that with his technology and our knowledge, we can make recovery happen much quicker.”
“Do you trust him so much after one day?”
She hesitated, reflecting on everything she knew about the man and her experience with him over the past day and a half. “Yes.”
“I’m not an idiot. He announced to the world that he was the one in that suit of armor. What makes you think he’ll keep quiet?”
“Because he has security clearances with several government and private entities that require his confidentiality; and if not, I’ll just silencio him again.” She stated calmly, shrugging at the thought but snickering on the inside.”
The owner of the office stood, turned, and looked out the window upon the courtyard below. Outside, people milled about the street in the isolated city where the Ministry of Magic resided, going about their lives unaware of events outside their insular community. With a population of several thousand people, it was one of the larger population centers of their society in the British Isles.
“I’m giving you a lot of latitude on this Annie. If you were anyone else, any other person, be it in this world or the normal world I wouldn’t allow it. But I know you. And I trust your judgement.” Looking back at her, he nodded in approval. “Make sure you…impress upon him the importance of staying quiet regarding our secrets.”
“Understood, sir, and thank you. I won’t fail you.”
“Auror Edison, we can’t afford for you to fail. Go, before I regret my decision. And be careful, please?”
“I will, sir.”
_______
“Are you sure it’s a good idea working so closely with the police?”
He looked at Britta, sitting on the couch in his penthouse, typing on the laptop. She was always working, and while he knew it was for his benefit, he wished she didn’t work so hard. “I don’t have a lot of choice in this, Ms. Perry.” He used her surname in instances where he wanted some joking with a sarcastic form of formality. It was their way, having functioned together for so long.
“Why not? Aren’t you Jeff Winger?”
“Because some jack-ass is running around, breaking into unbreakable vaults and stealing God knows what.”
“What was stolen?”
“Don’t know. Edison’s keeping it pretty close to her chest, ample as that chest is.”
“Pig.”
“I won’t refute that comment.” Pouring himself a Macallan, neat, he looked back at her. “How’s Troy? Haven’t heard from him in a while.”
“He’s on a mission. Have you done those upgrades to his suit?”
“Finished them before we left, newest and best for your BF.”
She blushed. It was rare when she did such things, but he always got a kick out of it. “Thank you.”
“Sure. Think Edison would be up for a double date? We can swing down to Monte Carlo.”
Britta snorted. “I think she’s out of your league.” She stated matter-of-factly. “The inspector isn’t just another floozy Jeff.”
“No, she isn’t.” Taking a drink from the crystal tumbler, he savored the single malt liquor, remembering how she literally floored him. After the incident, after she’d left to see her superiors, he scrambled to see what information the internal scanning system in the warehouse had picked up. What had surprised him while she did her routine was that A.B.E.D. had done nothing to help him, like summon help or security. The scanners and the AI’s recording suite had gone offline immediately after her casting. Jeff heard the word, and then static. He’d spent hours after her departure realigning and readjusting them, checking the arrays for any manufacturing defects. And nothing was wrong with the scanning system, or A.B.E.D. for that matter. “One could say there’s magic in the air.”
“Do not cause an international incident, please? We’re still trying to clean up after the initial arrest. Do you know how frustrating it is working through the bureaucracy here?”
“I never said you had to do it.”
“If I want something done right, I do it myself. I’m looking out for your best interests.”
“You’re also the CEO, get an assistant.”
“You’re best interests run concurrent with the company Jeff. That means I’m the one who has to handle it.”
His phone beeped and he pulled it out of the pocket. It was her. He pressed ANSWER and immediately she’d begun talking, not even letting him greet her.
“Does your suitcase have a scanning system?”
“One of my regular suits does, but I was thinking about last night….”
“And you added one, didn’t you?”
“Should be done machining in about five minutes.” There was dead air for a moment on her end of the connection, and then some expletives in the background. “Traffic?”
“I’m on the A12 and I’ll be at the Museum in twenty minutes. Get over there with your suit; we’ve got work to do.” And just as suddenly as she’d started the call, she ended it, never letting him get much in edgewise. Britta had stopped typing and was looking at him expectantly.
“Hot date?”
“Shut up. Did you ever find that plastic surgeon?”
“I haven’t got anything yet.”
“Keep looking.” He drained the glass, grabbed his jacket and ran out the door.
_______
She was pacing the lobby when he’d finally gotten there. Annie saw black and gold suitcase and gave a hint of a smile. “You’re late.”
“And you never gave a time.”
“Whatever. Follow me.” Winger followed her through the bustling crowds who immediately took notice of the famous man. He waved a few times, pardoned himself to a few of his fans, and kept up with her brisk pace. Annie was surprised, that with his level of popularity and celebrity, how he ever got anywhere with people wanting a piece of his time.
“I’m used to it. You could have flashed your badge, that would have gotten people off our backs.”
“The investigation is being kept low key. A lot of money, and a lot of time has gone into reassuring people that their national treasures are safe.”
Jeff knew enough about the United Kingdom, to know what the treasures were; after all, one didn’t travel with Britta Perry without having their ear talked off about the cultural history of a country they were visiting. “I thought that was all kept in the Tower of London.”
“Some of it is, yes. The Crown Jewels are kept there. But not all treasures sparkle.”
“Kinda figured that. Gonna let me in on what was stolen?”
“In a minute.” She led him back down the winding stairs, into the inner recesses of the building and to the vault they visited not twenty hours before. The door still sat in its current resting place, though a new gate had been put into place in the last day, simply as a formality. Winger hid his surprise when he noticed no one was in the immediate area; contradictory to what he thought should be the population of a still fresh crime scene.
“Where is everyone?”
“I sent them home. We need privacy.” Immediately, Jeff’s thoughts went off-track, and she almost caught his raised eyebrow. He did his best to keep his face neutral, and wondered if maybe he should have been wearing the suit, with the blank expression its helmet provided. Granted, he didn’t know if she was a mind-reader, with her having some extra abilities he’d never encountered.
Defense mechanisms kicked in, and the charm turned on, much to his chagrin. “Well, had I known, I’d have packed a bottle of wine and a blanket.” He held up the heavy case in his hand. “This doesn’t have a lot of room to carry things though.”
“I can and will silence you again, if you’d like.”
“Shutting up now.”
She locked the gate behind them and led him to another book case, wherein she searched the wall for something. Stopping her search, Annie turned to Jeff and shifted her wrist. The wand fell into her palm, and she held it up.
“Before we go in, I need you to promise you will never tell anyone what you see.”
“Promise.”
“I need your vow, Jeff.” She used his first name for the second time in their brief partnership, and he sensed the sincerity in her voice. And something in him made him want to make sure he pleased her in some way, shape, or form.
“I vow, I will not disclose anything I see unless given permission.”
Annie was somewhat surprised by his honesty and sincerity. “Thank you.”
“Had to grovel to your bosses, didn’t you. To get them to let me in on the secret.”
“I did. Please don’t let me down.” She turned back to the bookshelf and was about to pull down a book, when he touched her elbow.
“I promise.” He wanted to lose himself in her bright blue eyes when she looked back at him, wanted to stare into them for as long as he could.
What Annie saw, his eyes bearing down on her, touched her. “Thank you.” She slipped out of his grasp, and pulled the book. Opening it, she touched her wand on the cover, and they both heard the shelving in front of them shift. It shouldn’t have surprised him as much as it did, other than how she’d gained access to the doorway that now stood before them. Replacing the book on the shelf that had moved to the right, she brought her wand up again and pressed the tip against center of the door. At the same time, she grasped the handle and murmured a few words he didn’t understand, and probably never would.
The sounds of locks and gears in motion sounded through the large door as she pushed it open. He peered inside, seeing only darkness. Then, a flame ignited in small lamp, followed by another, and another. She motioned for Jeff to step in, and followed her tentatively into the rapidly lightening room. The room was old just by looking at; cold and dry, with rows upon rows of book shelves surrounding a gallery of strange objects and items. One could actually feel the age of the items that had been placed here for safekeeping.
“Very few people know about this vault. Only a handful have actually ever entered it that aren’t under a hundred years old.”
He gave a low whistle as he looked at one of the display cases, wherein a chessboard was playing a game of chess on its own. Jeff watched for a moment as gold and silver chess pieces crisscrossed the board, before setting eyes on another display; that of a series of swords that gleamed in the candlelight from the many chandeliers above. A certain display almost sang to Jeff’s soul as he looked at various sets of full armor. The irony was not lost upon him as he looked at the various coats of arms next to each. Placards gave information on each suit, or in some cases, set pieces.
“Fitting.” She noted with a smile as she walked with him. “You may want to pull out your own armor now, as we’re almost to the scene of the real crime.” He nodded dumbly, still amazed by all that he was seeing. Like before, he stepped onto his suitcase, pulled up the apparatus, and was just as quickly sheathed in the lightweight black armor with gold trim. Annie was still amused by such a thing, despite having lived in the magical world for so long and very recently seeing him armor himself the night before.
The HUD pulled up, and Jeff noticed the edges of the display were not nearly as crisp as they normally were. He slapped the back of his helmeted head a few times, making her curious. “Your magic.”
“My magic?”
Winger gazed at her, boxes of information appearing around her. “After you left, I figured out why no one stopped you after that little display of yours earlier. By the way, you owe me a massage.”
“I do, do I?”
“Yeah, my back hurts from landing on the floor.”
“Put it on my tab. So my magic?”
“Yeah, I had to play with the sensors, but I got a reading on why my tech wasn’t working at that particular time. Your magic is putting off an energy field that interferes with technology.”
She nodded, realizing that she’d forgotten to give him a proper explanation. “That was my fault. Technology and Magic don’t work well together. Stupid me, right?”
“Actually, I think I’m shielded enough. Just have to work some kinks out of the system when I get back.”
“If you ever figure out how to get electronics to work around magic, you’d make a killing in the magical society.”
“I can. You help me, and I’ll cut you in at forty percent.”
She laughed, it sounded like sweet music to his ears. “I’d want seventy-five minimum.” Annie pointed over to a pedestal by them, and then led him over to it. “Can you do spectrographic analysis on this pedestal?”
“Yeah.” Jeff placed at a finger on the empty pedestal and dragged it across the surface. He then held it up to his face, and let the scanning suite go to work. “No dust, I’m guessing you have excellent cleaning here, or is it some spell you can cast?”
“The archivists here cast an anti-dust spell monthly, or so the rumor goes.” But he was too busy with the examination to have heard her, as the first results were already coming in from the sample. “Marble, dust mites, random dead skin cells….” He trailed off as one part of the sample came back with a surprising word. “Unknown. You have an unknown molecule here.” He turned to the investigator, servos whirring in unison with his motion. “What sat here?”
“Remember your vows.”
“I don’t remember the honeymoon. I know this spot in the Alps-”
“Ha ha.” She deadpanned. “The item that was stolen is something that shouldn’t exist, but was created several hundred years ago by a Frenchman who died a few years back.”
“You can’t be serious. You have the Philosopher’s Stone?”
“I’m surprised you’ve heard of it.” Jeff could barely contain his astonishment and excitement. His faceplate snapped open, showing the billionaire’s furious features.
“Yeah, I think I’ve heard of an object that can defy the laws of physics, changing anything into gold. It could destroy the world economy while making someone infinitely rich.”
“There’s that.” She said, walking around the empty pedestal. “There’s also the other side of the legend.”
“The Elixir of Life. Jesus, you can’t be serious. Why the hell would your people keep something like that?”
“You’re very learned, Mr. Winger.” She deflected.
“Annie, I’ve studied metallurgy, chemistry, and physics. I have advanced degrees in all of them. I triple majored in them at MIT. I also read Harry Potter. What I could do with even a sliver of that stone, I could change the world as we know it. I could atone for a lot of sins. Or I could be richer than God.”
“But you also know how dangerous it is.”
He guffawed at that. “Just got done saying that.”
“Which is why my government…governments are deeply concerned. I can’t emphasize how deeply.”
“I get the point Edison.” He shook his head in disgust. Jeff had a wonderful imagination. And that imagination could come up with hundreds of scenarios about what could go right or wrong with the Stone. How these people could keep something so dangerous was beyond him. Winger could fathom doomsday weapons, those killed, end of story. But this was a small object that could bring about so much more than death and destruction. In the wrong hands, it could bring about misery and suffering on a global scale that even a radiological event couldn’t compete with, and everyone would be affected.
“Will you help me?”
“Yeah, I think I’ll be fitting ‘world crisis’ into my planner. This is kind of up my alley anyway.” With a nod of his head, the faceplate came down, sealing the helmet. “I need to get back to my lab. And I need you with me.”
“Why?”
“Because I need you to cast some more spells. Whoever broke in here, they know about your world, which means they’ve got the same skills as you do. If I’m going to be any help, I need to ‘magic-proof’ my tech.” He glanced over the entire area of the room, the scanning software recording everything he was seeing. Information was power, and if problems arose when this was over, he’d at least have some sort of blackmail or ammunition. “Wait.”
Annie had already started walking towards the door when she heard him. “What’s wrong?”
“I’ve…do you have those evidence slides?”
“Again?” She pulled one out of purse, always prepared. “What is it?”
“That hair. That’s one of my hairs.”
“So you’re going bald.”
“No! Grab it and let’s go.”
_______
Winger wasn’t trying to stare at the way her body moved through the crowd of the museum. Like Britta, and his own conscience (which he rarely ever consulted when it came to beautiful women) advised, young Inspector Edison was hands-off. But the smaller woman was too attractive, and his eyes were too used to roving over trim figures. The industrialist had removed the armor and compacted it back down into its suitcase mode earlier; and was mingling among the visitors, trying his best to fit in as they made their way through the entryway and down the stone gray steps. Looking up for just a moment, he caught a glimpse of the crowds, and saw a surprising face.
“Troy?” Leaving Annie’s company, he made his way through the throngs over to the tall black man standing by a shorter, familiar looking brunette. He looked back and saw Edison on her phone near a column, then glanced back at his long-time friend. “Barnes! Barnsey!” He yelled out, hoping to get the man’s attention.
Jeff got his attention, and almost gasped when he saw him talking to another Annie Edison.
Annie Edison, who had just drawn a very large gun and pointed it at him.
_______
Author’s Notes: So, Iron Man 3 could have been better. Good, but could’ve been better; and the thing is, I know what they were trying to do but they could have done it better. Luckily, I have nothing to worry about, because everything we’re seeing Jeff do here is pretty much established up through Avengers. I won’t say what’s happening next, but do know that this story is Jeff’s Avengers. Minus pretty much everything with him teaming up with anyone analogous to the other Avengers. (Though, when you think about it, James Rhodes/War Machines was an Avenger, but we’re talking Cinematic universe, and I’m nerding out right now.) Sorry, no hot Cap Annie.
And if you’ve read this far, note that there may be an extra week or so gap between Chapter Three and Chapter Four, or Chapter Four and Chapter Five.
And if you’ve read this far, an Achievement has been unlocked and you just got 10r Readerscore.
Author: Christmas Pterodactyl
Rating: PG-13 to R
Word count: 6,423 words
Disclaimer: The author makes no claims of ownership to any material that may be recognized by the public. Additionally, he makes no income or profits from this exercise.
Spoilers: Primarily Episode 03x03 - Remedial Chaos Theory
Summary: “Booker, are you afraid of God?” “No. But I’m afraid of you.” Elizabeth and Booker DeWitt - Bioshock Infinite
Notes: Part three. The ride just got a little bumpier. As always, pardon the mistakes and messes and typos, etc.
Morning found Britta Perry with a fierce headache and a lack of sleep. She’d already tried her boss’ phone several times to no avail, and the penthouse room he’d taken for the week was empty, save for several expensive suits and a few laptops. Britta never liked when she was stuck searching for Jeff, and that most likely meant he’d stayed out with female companionship, or he was working in his workshop.
She knew he wasn’t with anyone last night, save for the bossy policewoman from the previous evening, and there was no way that he cross that boundary. Despite the many eccentricities of Jeff Winger, he wouldn’t sleep with a law enforcement officer on a whim after he’d been arrested. Or maybe he would, what with the short skirt and prominent breasts for her shorter stature.
Loathe to ask where exactly he was, Perry finally dialed a special number on her phone and sighed. She hated doing this, but today wasn’t a day for him to be missing, with the police matter requiring his full attention.
“Yes Ms. Perry?”
“A.B.E.D., where is he?”
“He was expecting your call,” the AI told her matter-of-factly, “and he wanted me to inform you that he’ll be at his lab in London.”
“Winger doesn’t have a workshop or lab in London.”
“He does as of 5:21am Greenwich Mean Time. He has requested you meet him at the Perry Pavilion-”
“What do you mean the Perry Pavilion!”
“I believe he meant it as a joke, ma’am.”
“Of course he meant it as a joke A.B.E.D.!”
“Shall I arrange a cab, ma’am?”
Britta pushed END and slid the phone back into a pocket. Sometimes she hated her boss. Too bad he paid so well. It certainly paid for the three cats she kept, all formerly in dreadful health.
_______
“It’s not my workshop.” The Senior Inspector descended the stairs onto the ground floor of the, marveling at the various wires and cords leading to large monitors made of semi-transparent glass. In one corner were men assembling large fabrication machines, in another corner a small kitchen with marble countertops were being installed. Yet in a third part of the room, a series of servers were being installed, which connected themselves via colorful cables to a central stainless steel semi-circle shaped desk. And sitting in the middle of the organized chaos, little to Annie’s surprise, was a rather casually dressed Jeff Winger. “I mean, it’s my workshop, but it’s not my real workshop.” He was practically yelling over the din of the music in the background and the workman in the foreground. Winger tapped a button on the odd looking keyboard in front of him turning the music off, though he’d still have to speak loudly over the sounds of the various workers in the warehouse.
Stepping forward, the inspector looked around once more, whistling how impressed she was. “You built this in a night?”
“A night? Nah, mostly just early morning. Thinking of building a skyscraper taller than Canary Wharf later this afternoon. Should be finished by high tea.”
“Ever the egotist. And it’s One Canada Square.”
“Ever the unimpressed.” Jeff swiveled around to face her. “Does everyone drink tea here?”
“A common misconception, I happen to like the Starbucks on High Street. Wonderful coffee and so near my flat.” He chuckled at her comment, and then swiveled back around to the various screens in front of him, getting back to what he was working on. Edison tried to make heads and tails of what she was seeing from the other side of the transparent screens, but it was just too far beyond her significant knowledge of science.
“Did you send that sample in?”
“It’s in the lab right now. Took it up earlier this morning. Have you run yours yet?”
Jeff motioned towards a large machine humming near the fabrication area. “Put it in about three hours ago. I guess maybe another fifteen minutes.” Looking around her, she searched for a chair to sit in, only find a bar chair still wrapped in its shipping shrink wrap. “I’d say have a seat, but I’m still unpacking.”
“How did you get this all set up so quickly?”
“Money.”
“That’s your answer to everything, isn’t it?” Jeff turned around and peered at her with a bit of a smirk.
“It helps. What was in the vault yesterday?”
“What do you mean?”
He jumped out of his chair and walked over to testing equipment, looking at the timers and readouts. “I was thinking about it last night. Here I am, missing a party in my honor, helping the government; and I have no clue what was stolen. So what was stolen?”
“I never said anything was stolen. We brought you in to investigate the murders.”
“By having me take a look at a large vault door that was ripped off its hinges.”
“That was one aspect of the investigation.”
“But doors like that guard something, something that you don’t want people to get into. So what was in there?”
“It’s classified.”
“Bullshit.”
“I’m sorry you feel that way. Do you have results for me Mr. Winger?”
“You can call me Jeff, you know.”
“I know I can, Mr. Winger,” She repeated his last name with a certain sarcastic emphasis. “I just want the results of what you found so interesting last night.”
“Fine, fine. No need to get grumpy, Grumpy Bear.” The Mass Spectrometer, which he was monitoring from his desk, started beeping, and both billionaire and investigator looked at each other and then the machine. “That was quick.”
Quickly back at his desk, his hands flew across two keyboards; one, a high-end QWERTY keyboard she knew cost more than what she would find any electronics store in the country. The other was more alien to her, looking similar to the phone he had the night before, covered in strange symbols as well as words like FILE MANAGEMENT, OPEN, REVERT, SIN, COS, TAN and other words she would never in her life figure out how they belonged on a keyboard. Screens and windows popped open and closed, flashed various images, and Annie was unable to keep up with what going on on the four different screens in front of her.
Annie Edison had a very organized mind. Over the course of her entire academic career and all the way through her training at Hendon Police College and the Agency Training Center, she received excellent marks and comments on her deduction, analysis and interpretation skills. But the amount and type of information that was pouring out in front of her was beyond her.
Jeff had no troubles keeping up, he was in his element. And the flow information was continuous, so much so that he sometimes forgot that other people in the room were unaccustomed to how he operated, cerebrally. He absorbed it like a sponge, intuitively taking in everything he needed and discarding what he didn’t.
“Wait.” The screens stopped on a series of graphs and charts. “No…no, wait a second.” He was out of his chair again, and she could barely keep up with him as he seemed to launch himself all over the place. Winger walked out into the middle of the room. “I hope these are running.” Muttering to himself, he clapped twice. “A.B.E.D., up and at’em.”
“Of course sir.”
“Everyone, take off for the rest of the day.” Jeff hollered to all the workers who looked up in surprise. “Actually, see my assistant Britta before you leave. She’ll give you a bonus, and access to the Expo, as well as lunch on me.” Many of them shrugged and put away their tools. Several of them, men and women came up to him to personally thank the man (or have their picture taken with him), who graciously accepted it and motioned them to the door. The large warehouse was cleared within minutes, leaving himself and Annie alone, together. “Holoprojectors on, A.B.E.D.”
“Yes, sir.”
The room darkened and Annie had to blink a few times to make sure she wasn’t seeing things, watching as the images on the screens she was looking at moments ago floated into the air around Jeff. Never in her life had she seen such a thing. All around her, boxes of information and wireframe models sprung up from objects; from common, everyday objects like the bar chairs and the pencils on his desk, to the various machines and surprisingly, two cars that she’d not noticed before. The bewildered woman poked at one of the ethereal boxes, and it enlarged, giving her a detailed description of the rather simple looking pencil.
“This can’t be right.” Annie looked up to see manic technologist grabbing the floating images, waving his hands and manipulating them. “No.” He stopped moving, then put a hand to his chin and contemplated for several seconds. “A.B.E.D., is this correct?”
Taking a few timid steps forward, unnecessarily dodging floating elements of data in the air she took a place next to him and stared at what had Jeff so concerned. In front of her were two spheres made up of smaller spheres interconnected by a framework of lines. “Yes, sir, the sample you collected is the same atomic weight as what is currently on file.”
“How.” He turned to Annie, glancing down, and grimacing. “How the hell did you get a hold of adamantium?”
“Excuse me?”
He pointed at one of the spheres forcefully. “Ad-a-man-ti-um!”
“Maybe if you explain what you’re ranting about-”
“The dust. Last night, I had you gather those dust samples for me, remember?” He stopped and slapped his forehead with his palm, grasping some of his perfectly coifed hair and wanting to yank it out. “I’m an idiot. I should have seen it the whole time.” Turning back on her, he again pointed to the two spheres. “Those are molecules. The building blocks of everything.”
“I know what a molecule is.”
“Those molecules right there shouldn’t be there though. You had a door made of adamantium and it was punched through by someone with a fist made of vibranium. How the hell did the Brits get adamantium!”
“Look, I didn’t install the vault door, and I wasn’t there to authorize them to put in a door made of Adam Ant-” Annie replied snidely.
“Adamantium. And as Britta says, ‘duh doy.’ Otherwise you look really good for your age. 1947 and all”
“Then explain it to me. What’s so special about it?”
“It’s the hardest substance known to man.”
“I thought that was diamond.”
“Well, you’re not beyond hope.” Jeff muttered. “Yes, diamond is one of the hardest naturally occurring substances on Earth. But adamantium makes it look like glass. It’s too expensive to mass produce. And you have a door made of it sitting off its hinges.”
“It is a high security vault for their collection. What about the…vibranium, you called it?”
“That’s what has me absolutely confused. It’s a material that absorbs kinetic energy and sound waves, making it harder than most alloys and titanium. And with enough kinetic energy absorbed, it apparently broke through an adamantium door.”
“That sounds incredible, but I guess it makes sense.”
“NO! It doesn’t!”
“Okay, feel free to enlighten me on why it’s impossible then Mr. Winger.”
“It’s Jeff, remember, and it’s impossible because the only vibranium in the world is right here.” He tapped his chest, specifically the arc reactor with its continuous blue glow. Pulling his shirt up and off, he revealed his tanned chest and to Annie’s amusement, a clearly defined set of six-pack. Once more, she couldn’t help but admire Winger as prime specimen of the male population. Shaking the thought from her mind, she focused again. “And you wouldn’t believe the trouble I had to go through to get this much.”
“So you don’t have more money than Merlin?”
“Yeah…no. I had to synthesize it.”
“You can do that?”
“Uh, yeah, I can. I did it in my basement with a jury-rigged particle accelerator and a hangover. It doesn’t occur anywhere else. God only knows how my father was able to make a molecular model of it. So, back to my first question. What was stolen?”
“Nothing was stolen.”
“And I said bullshit. You don’t have a door that big, that heavy, that…exotic, just sitting in a museum. You don’t have ten people dead and a hole in an unbreakable door for nothing!”
Annie backed up slightly, rather surprised at him. “It’s classified.”
“What was in there!”
“IT’S CLASSIFIED!”
“Fine! I’m calling the PM, the Queen, and whoever the hell else, and they can tell me. A.B.E.D., dial up-”
“NO!” For her height and weight, Jeff was wholly surprised at how handily she had just knocked him to the floor, and was now holding a wooden dowel in her hand, pointing it directly at his chest.
“What the hell!?”
“Jeff, I’m sorry, but I can’t let you talk to anyone about this.” She thought for a moment, then pointed the wand at his head. “Silencio. I’m sorry.” Winger’s mouth opened and she could see him trying to speak, but there was no sound came from his mouth. He was stunned by what he was experiencing, unsure of how to proceed. For now, he just listened. “I can’t tell you what was stolen without permission; because if I did, my government would cause you to forget everything you were told. And I don’t want them hurting that brilliant intellect of yours.”
How very kind of you. He thought at her as hard as he could.
“Now, if you promise not to yell, I’ll cancel the spell. But if you get out of hand, we’ll have to go through this all over again. Understand?” Jeff nodded slowly, his face red with built-up anger. She flicked the small stick in her hand, softly muttering a single word. “Finite.”
“What. The. Hell.” He scrambled away from her, in an awkward sort of crabwalk. Just as quickly, he was on his feet, giving her a wide berth.
“I’m really sorry I had to do that.”
“What the hell are you?”
Annie’s eyes went wide and her own mind was racing, unsure how events were going to proceed. “I’m a witch.” She said simply.
“You’re kidding me. You’re seriously fucking with me or something. Hypnosis, right?”
“No. I’m a witch. This is my wand. Here, take a look.” She set it on the desk gently; then backed away from large semi-circular workstation slowly, giving him more space and perhaps instilling a degree of trust that she wouldn’t grab it and curse him again. Winger stepped forward and sat in his chair, taking the offending object in his hands.
His immediate observation was that the wand was made of a light, yet sturdy wood. It weighed less than a pound, was about ten inches long and as thick as the circumference of his thumb. It didn’t feel like a pencil or pen, too thick to be held between fingers as a writing utensil, but he easily twirled it around in his hand. Palming the grip, he experimentally flicked it a few times, and then sat it back on the desk. Winger gave it a careful glance as he let her claim it once more, wherein she slid it back up the right sleeve of her blazer.
“So…Harry Potter?”
“No. He doesn’t exist. But all fiction is based on some truth. The books were a misinformation campaign because some people were getting too close to the truth.”
“The truth being…?”
“That there is a subset of humanity that has the ability to cast spells and use magic.”
“How big?”
“To our knowledge, out of the six billion people living in the world there is about seven-hundred thousand witches and wizards. We stay to ourselves, though many of us venture out into the world and work with normal people.”
Jeff sniffed. “We’re not ‘muggles?’”
She chuckled then made a visible show of flicking her wrist. Her wand shot out her sleeve, which she caught with practiced ease. Waving the wand, a comfortable desk chair much like his appeared, and she seated herself. “Much better. No, I think Miss Rowling is a fan of The Kinks.” He understood the reference instantly. “In terms you can understand, I guess I am ‘muggle-born,’ so I had a firmer grasp of the real world than others in Wizarding society. I’m a liason between the Ministry of Magic of the United Kingdoms and the Ministry of Defence Police.”
“Political appointment than? Wonderful. Always loved politics.”
“And yes, I picked up on the thinly-veiled sarcasm. No, I went through the training, and had to be monitored to make sure I wasn’t using any of my…special abilities to cheat or get ahead. I earned my position.”
They sat in silence. He wanted to ask more, but he was still in some shock over the whole incident, and he honestly didn’t want to go through it all again. The quiet was interrupted by the ringing of her mobile, which she summoned out of her purse.
“It’s the office. Do you mind?”
“By all means.” He turned back to his keyboard and started typing away again, blocking out her voice, melodious as it occasionally was.
And just as quickly as she’d answered, she was tapping the END button. “That was my boss. I have a meeting in twenty minutes.”
“I’ll be here. Not like I’m doing much else.” He replied dismissively.
“Okay…. Give me a few hours. Let me get permission from the higher-ups, and then we can get together and crack open this case a little more.”
Jeff glanced at the brunette, and shrugged his shoulders. “Yeah.”
“Will you keep working on this? Please?”
“Get your permission. Because if I’m gonna help, and trust me when I say you’re gonna need my help, then I want to know everything.”
“I promise.” She pocketed the phone back into her satchel and departed. She certainly wasn’t looking forward to the meeting about to take place.
_______
In under an hour, she’d freshened up, and was now wearing a plain black robe over her blazer and trousers, though open in the front for ease of movement. She loathed having to wear such a garment when meeting with her superiors in the Ministry of Magic, but it was one more burden she suffered in quiet dignity.
This time, she sat as guest in the office of her visitor from the night before. He was tall, perhaps even taller than Jeff Winger, but with white hair and rose-colored glasses. He wore a blue robe with yellow stars all over, and a floppy hat of the same starry pattern. The stocky old man watched his young subordinate carefully, then looked back at the parchment in front of him. Adjusting his glasses that occasionally slid down his nose, he regarded the young woman in front of him with some degree of respect, knowing how hard she worked as his liaison to Her Majesty’s Government.
“It’s all there Minister Hawthorne.”
“I can see that. Did Winger do it?”
“I can say, unequivocally, no, sir.” Pierce Hawthorne looked back to the parchment again, unimpressed with her answer.
“The evidence and scans you did, Auror Edison, say otherwise.”
“I know sir. But the scans are wrong. I’ve seen the video evidence the museum recorded. I’ve had it verified, and I’ve scanned Winger. He’s not magical, so he can’t apparate, and his alibi checks out.”
“And his technology tells you this?”
“Yes, sir.”
Leaning back in his chair, the leather sighing with his movement, Minister Hawthorne steepled his hands and thought for several moments before speaking again. “How much does the normal Ministry know about what was stolen?”
“Nothing. The museum staff is still accounting for all the items in the vault. The notice-me-not wards are still up, and only the one item was stolen.”
Pierce shook his head in disbelief. “I can’t stress how important it is you find it.”
“I know, sir. To that end, I want to suggest something.”
“Go on.”
Annie braced herself for rejection. “I want to inform Winger of the item, and give him information that will help us recover it.” An eyebrow raised, Pierce said nothing, but motioned for her to continue. “If Winger has all the facts, I believe that with his technology and our knowledge, we can make recovery happen much quicker.”
“Do you trust him so much after one day?”
She hesitated, reflecting on everything she knew about the man and her experience with him over the past day and a half. “Yes.”
“I’m not an idiot. He announced to the world that he was the one in that suit of armor. What makes you think he’ll keep quiet?”
“Because he has security clearances with several government and private entities that require his confidentiality; and if not, I’ll just silencio him again.” She stated calmly, shrugging at the thought but snickering on the inside.”
The owner of the office stood, turned, and looked out the window upon the courtyard below. Outside, people milled about the street in the isolated city where the Ministry of Magic resided, going about their lives unaware of events outside their insular community. With a population of several thousand people, it was one of the larger population centers of their society in the British Isles.
“I’m giving you a lot of latitude on this Annie. If you were anyone else, any other person, be it in this world or the normal world I wouldn’t allow it. But I know you. And I trust your judgement.” Looking back at her, he nodded in approval. “Make sure you…impress upon him the importance of staying quiet regarding our secrets.”
“Understood, sir, and thank you. I won’t fail you.”
“Auror Edison, we can’t afford for you to fail. Go, before I regret my decision. And be careful, please?”
“I will, sir.”
_______
“Are you sure it’s a good idea working so closely with the police?”
He looked at Britta, sitting on the couch in his penthouse, typing on the laptop. She was always working, and while he knew it was for his benefit, he wished she didn’t work so hard. “I don’t have a lot of choice in this, Ms. Perry.” He used her surname in instances where he wanted some joking with a sarcastic form of formality. It was their way, having functioned together for so long.
“Why not? Aren’t you Jeff Winger?”
“Because some jack-ass is running around, breaking into unbreakable vaults and stealing God knows what.”
“What was stolen?”
“Don’t know. Edison’s keeping it pretty close to her chest, ample as that chest is.”
“Pig.”
“I won’t refute that comment.” Pouring himself a Macallan, neat, he looked back at her. “How’s Troy? Haven’t heard from him in a while.”
“He’s on a mission. Have you done those upgrades to his suit?”
“Finished them before we left, newest and best for your BF.”
She blushed. It was rare when she did such things, but he always got a kick out of it. “Thank you.”
“Sure. Think Edison would be up for a double date? We can swing down to Monte Carlo.”
Britta snorted. “I think she’s out of your league.” She stated matter-of-factly. “The inspector isn’t just another floozy Jeff.”
“No, she isn’t.” Taking a drink from the crystal tumbler, he savored the single malt liquor, remembering how she literally floored him. After the incident, after she’d left to see her superiors, he scrambled to see what information the internal scanning system in the warehouse had picked up. What had surprised him while she did her routine was that A.B.E.D. had done nothing to help him, like summon help or security. The scanners and the AI’s recording suite had gone offline immediately after her casting. Jeff heard the word, and then static. He’d spent hours after her departure realigning and readjusting them, checking the arrays for any manufacturing defects. And nothing was wrong with the scanning system, or A.B.E.D. for that matter. “One could say there’s magic in the air.”
“Do not cause an international incident, please? We’re still trying to clean up after the initial arrest. Do you know how frustrating it is working through the bureaucracy here?”
“I never said you had to do it.”
“If I want something done right, I do it myself. I’m looking out for your best interests.”
“You’re also the CEO, get an assistant.”
“You’re best interests run concurrent with the company Jeff. That means I’m the one who has to handle it.”
His phone beeped and he pulled it out of the pocket. It was her. He pressed ANSWER and immediately she’d begun talking, not even letting him greet her.
“Does your suitcase have a scanning system?”
“One of my regular suits does, but I was thinking about last night….”
“And you added one, didn’t you?”
“Should be done machining in about five minutes.” There was dead air for a moment on her end of the connection, and then some expletives in the background. “Traffic?”
“I’m on the A12 and I’ll be at the Museum in twenty minutes. Get over there with your suit; we’ve got work to do.” And just as suddenly as she’d started the call, she ended it, never letting him get much in edgewise. Britta had stopped typing and was looking at him expectantly.
“Hot date?”
“Shut up. Did you ever find that plastic surgeon?”
“I haven’t got anything yet.”
“Keep looking.” He drained the glass, grabbed his jacket and ran out the door.
_______
She was pacing the lobby when he’d finally gotten there. Annie saw black and gold suitcase and gave a hint of a smile. “You’re late.”
“And you never gave a time.”
“Whatever. Follow me.” Winger followed her through the bustling crowds who immediately took notice of the famous man. He waved a few times, pardoned himself to a few of his fans, and kept up with her brisk pace. Annie was surprised, that with his level of popularity and celebrity, how he ever got anywhere with people wanting a piece of his time.
“I’m used to it. You could have flashed your badge, that would have gotten people off our backs.”
“The investigation is being kept low key. A lot of money, and a lot of time has gone into reassuring people that their national treasures are safe.”
Jeff knew enough about the United Kingdom, to know what the treasures were; after all, one didn’t travel with Britta Perry without having their ear talked off about the cultural history of a country they were visiting. “I thought that was all kept in the Tower of London.”
“Some of it is, yes. The Crown Jewels are kept there. But not all treasures sparkle.”
“Kinda figured that. Gonna let me in on what was stolen?”
“In a minute.” She led him back down the winding stairs, into the inner recesses of the building and to the vault they visited not twenty hours before. The door still sat in its current resting place, though a new gate had been put into place in the last day, simply as a formality. Winger hid his surprise when he noticed no one was in the immediate area; contradictory to what he thought should be the population of a still fresh crime scene.
“Where is everyone?”
“I sent them home. We need privacy.” Immediately, Jeff’s thoughts went off-track, and she almost caught his raised eyebrow. He did his best to keep his face neutral, and wondered if maybe he should have been wearing the suit, with the blank expression its helmet provided. Granted, he didn’t know if she was a mind-reader, with her having some extra abilities he’d never encountered.
Defense mechanisms kicked in, and the charm turned on, much to his chagrin. “Well, had I known, I’d have packed a bottle of wine and a blanket.” He held up the heavy case in his hand. “This doesn’t have a lot of room to carry things though.”
“I can and will silence you again, if you’d like.”
“Shutting up now.”
She locked the gate behind them and led him to another book case, wherein she searched the wall for something. Stopping her search, Annie turned to Jeff and shifted her wrist. The wand fell into her palm, and she held it up.
“Before we go in, I need you to promise you will never tell anyone what you see.”
“Promise.”
“I need your vow, Jeff.” She used his first name for the second time in their brief partnership, and he sensed the sincerity in her voice. And something in him made him want to make sure he pleased her in some way, shape, or form.
“I vow, I will not disclose anything I see unless given permission.”
Annie was somewhat surprised by his honesty and sincerity. “Thank you.”
“Had to grovel to your bosses, didn’t you. To get them to let me in on the secret.”
“I did. Please don’t let me down.” She turned back to the bookshelf and was about to pull down a book, when he touched her elbow.
“I promise.” He wanted to lose himself in her bright blue eyes when she looked back at him, wanted to stare into them for as long as he could.
What Annie saw, his eyes bearing down on her, touched her. “Thank you.” She slipped out of his grasp, and pulled the book. Opening it, she touched her wand on the cover, and they both heard the shelving in front of them shift. It shouldn’t have surprised him as much as it did, other than how she’d gained access to the doorway that now stood before them. Replacing the book on the shelf that had moved to the right, she brought her wand up again and pressed the tip against center of the door. At the same time, she grasped the handle and murmured a few words he didn’t understand, and probably never would.
The sounds of locks and gears in motion sounded through the large door as she pushed it open. He peered inside, seeing only darkness. Then, a flame ignited in small lamp, followed by another, and another. She motioned for Jeff to step in, and followed her tentatively into the rapidly lightening room. The room was old just by looking at; cold and dry, with rows upon rows of book shelves surrounding a gallery of strange objects and items. One could actually feel the age of the items that had been placed here for safekeeping.
“Very few people know about this vault. Only a handful have actually ever entered it that aren’t under a hundred years old.”
He gave a low whistle as he looked at one of the display cases, wherein a chessboard was playing a game of chess on its own. Jeff watched for a moment as gold and silver chess pieces crisscrossed the board, before setting eyes on another display; that of a series of swords that gleamed in the candlelight from the many chandeliers above. A certain display almost sang to Jeff’s soul as he looked at various sets of full armor. The irony was not lost upon him as he looked at the various coats of arms next to each. Placards gave information on each suit, or in some cases, set pieces.
“Fitting.” She noted with a smile as she walked with him. “You may want to pull out your own armor now, as we’re almost to the scene of the real crime.” He nodded dumbly, still amazed by all that he was seeing. Like before, he stepped onto his suitcase, pulled up the apparatus, and was just as quickly sheathed in the lightweight black armor with gold trim. Annie was still amused by such a thing, despite having lived in the magical world for so long and very recently seeing him armor himself the night before.
The HUD pulled up, and Jeff noticed the edges of the display were not nearly as crisp as they normally were. He slapped the back of his helmeted head a few times, making her curious. “Your magic.”
“My magic?”
Winger gazed at her, boxes of information appearing around her. “After you left, I figured out why no one stopped you after that little display of yours earlier. By the way, you owe me a massage.”
“I do, do I?”
“Yeah, my back hurts from landing on the floor.”
“Put it on my tab. So my magic?”
“Yeah, I had to play with the sensors, but I got a reading on why my tech wasn’t working at that particular time. Your magic is putting off an energy field that interferes with technology.”
She nodded, realizing that she’d forgotten to give him a proper explanation. “That was my fault. Technology and Magic don’t work well together. Stupid me, right?”
“Actually, I think I’m shielded enough. Just have to work some kinks out of the system when I get back.”
“If you ever figure out how to get electronics to work around magic, you’d make a killing in the magical society.”
“I can. You help me, and I’ll cut you in at forty percent.”
She laughed, it sounded like sweet music to his ears. “I’d want seventy-five minimum.” Annie pointed over to a pedestal by them, and then led him over to it. “Can you do spectrographic analysis on this pedestal?”
“Yeah.” Jeff placed at a finger on the empty pedestal and dragged it across the surface. He then held it up to his face, and let the scanning suite go to work. “No dust, I’m guessing you have excellent cleaning here, or is it some spell you can cast?”
“The archivists here cast an anti-dust spell monthly, or so the rumor goes.” But he was too busy with the examination to have heard her, as the first results were already coming in from the sample. “Marble, dust mites, random dead skin cells….” He trailed off as one part of the sample came back with a surprising word. “Unknown. You have an unknown molecule here.” He turned to the investigator, servos whirring in unison with his motion. “What sat here?”
“Remember your vows.”
“I don’t remember the honeymoon. I know this spot in the Alps-”
“Ha ha.” She deadpanned. “The item that was stolen is something that shouldn’t exist, but was created several hundred years ago by a Frenchman who died a few years back.”
“You can’t be serious. You have the Philosopher’s Stone?”
“I’m surprised you’ve heard of it.” Jeff could barely contain his astonishment and excitement. His faceplate snapped open, showing the billionaire’s furious features.
“Yeah, I think I’ve heard of an object that can defy the laws of physics, changing anything into gold. It could destroy the world economy while making someone infinitely rich.”
“There’s that.” She said, walking around the empty pedestal. “There’s also the other side of the legend.”
“The Elixir of Life. Jesus, you can’t be serious. Why the hell would your people keep something like that?”
“You’re very learned, Mr. Winger.” She deflected.
“Annie, I’ve studied metallurgy, chemistry, and physics. I have advanced degrees in all of them. I triple majored in them at MIT. I also read Harry Potter. What I could do with even a sliver of that stone, I could change the world as we know it. I could atone for a lot of sins. Or I could be richer than God.”
“But you also know how dangerous it is.”
He guffawed at that. “Just got done saying that.”
“Which is why my government…governments are deeply concerned. I can’t emphasize how deeply.”
“I get the point Edison.” He shook his head in disgust. Jeff had a wonderful imagination. And that imagination could come up with hundreds of scenarios about what could go right or wrong with the Stone. How these people could keep something so dangerous was beyond him. Winger could fathom doomsday weapons, those killed, end of story. But this was a small object that could bring about so much more than death and destruction. In the wrong hands, it could bring about misery and suffering on a global scale that even a radiological event couldn’t compete with, and everyone would be affected.
“Will you help me?”
“Yeah, I think I’ll be fitting ‘world crisis’ into my planner. This is kind of up my alley anyway.” With a nod of his head, the faceplate came down, sealing the helmet. “I need to get back to my lab. And I need you with me.”
“Why?”
“Because I need you to cast some more spells. Whoever broke in here, they know about your world, which means they’ve got the same skills as you do. If I’m going to be any help, I need to ‘magic-proof’ my tech.” He glanced over the entire area of the room, the scanning software recording everything he was seeing. Information was power, and if problems arose when this was over, he’d at least have some sort of blackmail or ammunition. “Wait.”
Annie had already started walking towards the door when she heard him. “What’s wrong?”
“I’ve…do you have those evidence slides?”
“Again?” She pulled one out of purse, always prepared. “What is it?”
“That hair. That’s one of my hairs.”
“So you’re going bald.”
“No! Grab it and let’s go.”
_______
Winger wasn’t trying to stare at the way her body moved through the crowd of the museum. Like Britta, and his own conscience (which he rarely ever consulted when it came to beautiful women) advised, young Inspector Edison was hands-off. But the smaller woman was too attractive, and his eyes were too used to roving over trim figures. The industrialist had removed the armor and compacted it back down into its suitcase mode earlier; and was mingling among the visitors, trying his best to fit in as they made their way through the entryway and down the stone gray steps. Looking up for just a moment, he caught a glimpse of the crowds, and saw a surprising face.
“Troy?” Leaving Annie’s company, he made his way through the throngs over to the tall black man standing by a shorter, familiar looking brunette. He looked back and saw Edison on her phone near a column, then glanced back at his long-time friend. “Barnes! Barnsey!” He yelled out, hoping to get the man’s attention.
Jeff got his attention, and almost gasped when he saw him talking to another Annie Edison.
Annie Edison, who had just drawn a very large gun and pointed it at him.
_______
Author’s Notes: So, Iron Man 3 could have been better. Good, but could’ve been better; and the thing is, I know what they were trying to do but they could have done it better. Luckily, I have nothing to worry about, because everything we’re seeing Jeff do here is pretty much established up through Avengers. I won’t say what’s happening next, but do know that this story is Jeff’s Avengers. Minus pretty much everything with him teaming up with anyone analogous to the other Avengers. (Though, when you think about it, James Rhodes/War Machines was an Avenger, but we’re talking Cinematic universe, and I’m nerding out right now.) Sorry, no hot Cap Annie.
And if you’ve read this far, note that there may be an extra week or so gap between Chapter Three and Chapter Four, or Chapter Four and Chapter Five.
And if you’ve read this far, an Achievement has been unlocked and you just got 10r Readerscore.