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THE NEXT DAY, THE SHEER CARNAGE OF THE NIGHT BEFORE LOOKED FAR WORSE. Alex, running on no more than four hours of sleep, was in the elevator with Steve and Maria.
"He's all over the globe. Robotics labs, weapons facilities, jet propulsion labs. Reports of a metal man - or men - coming in and emptying the place."
"Fatalities?" Alex braced herself for Maria's reply to Steve's question. She anticipated unfair numbers.
"Only when engaged," Maria confirmed as they went up the stairs, "Most of the guys were left in a fugue state going on about old memories, worst fears... And something too fast to see."
"The Maximoffs," Alex guessed aloud as she continued to keep up with Maria and Steve.
"It makes sense that he'd go to them, they have someone in common," Steve stated as they reached the top of the staircase.
"Not any more," Maria countered and showed them both the screen of her tablet. It was Strucker. Dead in his cell with the word PEACE scrawled on the wall in his blood. Steve caught Clint's attention as they moved through the upper level towards the lab.
Everyone gathered around the desk Natasha was sat at and Steve passed the tablet around for everyone to see.
"What's this?" Tony quizzed as thor almost threw the tablet at his chest.
"A message. Ultron killed Strucker."
"And he did a Banksy at the crime scene -"
"Dad!" Alex hissed in disapproval as she kept her hands firmly in her hoodie pocket.
"This is a smokescreen," Nat interjected cooly, "Why bother to send a message when you've just given a speech?"
"Strucker knew something Ultron wanted us to miss," Steve verbalised and Nat's attention was turned back to the monitor in front of her.
"I bet he - yep, all the files have been deleted."
"Not everything," Alex assured them with a shake of her head. Within a matter of minutes, every physical file they'd compiled had been brought up in boxes and crates to be rooted through systematically. Everyone took a box with specific instructions on what to look for. Steve set his box down next to Alex's and discarded the lid.
"How are you feeling?"
"Better. My shoulder's still a little stiff, but I'll live," she assured him without moving her gaze away from the box of paper in front of her.
"Strucker had a lot of friends," she commented quietly as she flicked through the stacks of information that had been wedged into the box.
"And these people are all horrible," Bruce concluded as Thor frisbee threw another box lid to the side.
