Thievery, Murder and Mischeif (Avengers Fan Fiction)

3. Red Herring

I left with more ease than I came in. The sun was just beginning to redden the sky when I was back out on the mangy streets. Now I had an objective, the world felt a lot smaller. Even if my object was on the other side of the universe.

S.H.E.I.L.D was meant to be a top secret organisation, but the way they patrolled the streets in uniform clearly announcing their position, they were now well known. They were the key - I had to get S.H.E.I.L.D's attention, and their rather dim - witted agents were the key.

The streets were beginning to fill as rush hour began. Crowds formed, and I scoured the streets for a suitable target. But all agents in the area seemed to be circling Stark Tower, and no addtional agents were required. I was too impatient to wait till a guard came out, and it would be to risky.

But I was in luck. A few feet down the pavement from me two people collided. I watched with sudden curisosity as a symbol caught my eye on one of the bags. The familar winged crest of S.H.E.I.L.D. I grinned mischeviously. I did have some luck. Occasionally.

While my victim apologized frantically to the women, I strode past at my normal pace. I scooped up the bag and dumped the contents in my own. I then discarded the bag, leaving it crumpled on the pavement. Less evidence.

When I felt I'd put enough space between me and the agent, I found a bench nestled in a scrubby patch of grass, and began to sort through the contents.

Not much of, it must be said. A wallet, with no more than $20 in it. A few pictures of his children I assumed. I was intrigued by a small, velvety box. It snapped open, to reveal an enchanting red jewel encased in a silver cage. It hung on an intricate silver chain that looked barely strong enough to bare the weight of the pendant. I rolled it into a tight coil and hid it away in one of the many pockets of my bag.

Next I pulled out a phone. I inspected it carefully. It was a brand new Blackberry in perfect condition - I slid it carefully into my bag in the pocket beside the necklace. Next I found a round drawstring purse, oddly disfigured by it's contents. I smiled - it felt like a gun. I left it safely in the purse - I didn't think it would be wise to pull a weapon out in the middle of a crowded street.

I jumped up. A stranger had slid down on the bench next to me, and was staring at the object in my hand. "I wouldn't take that out here," he advised.

"Who are you?" I demanded, watching him intently.

He simply laughed. "You should be more observant. I certainly recognise you."

I puffed up, insulted by his accusation - there were not many who could say they were more observant than me. But he could not call me slow, as I worked out who he was from his simple words. "And you should not allow your manners to come before security. Never let your guard down, you never know who's watching," I smiled wickedly.

To this he frowned. "Are you going to return my belongings and come quietly, or am I going to have to call for back up?"

He was threathening me. "What if I simply returned your belongings?" I asked.

"I suppose you are just a simple theif. Or maybe you aren't.... I suppose I could cope with that. We'd keep an eye on you, of course. But we won't meddle unless you go for another one of us."

I couldn't have that. It would cut off any chance of getting any further. "I'm not sure I want to be constantly watched by S.H.E.I.L.D agents."

"I see you are not just a petty theif. You clearly know your target. I don't think I should let you go since you clearly have a purpose. So - what will it be?"

"Neither," I slipped my hand into the bag and drew the gun. I think I got as much as a shock as he did. As I pressed my fingers against the trigger, the barrel burst open, metal panels opening up to reveal a glowing blue interior.