Vengeance [Avengers Fanfiction]

[Chapter 40]

[Steve]

    This isn't a good idea. I thought, listening to the crunch of my boots against the icy, snow dusted pavement as Quinn, Tobias and I crept through the grungy, back alleyways of Fycon City. A map that Tobias had printed of the tunnels and roads was safely tucked into a pocket on my uniform, a copy also with Quinn in case we got separated.

    As we walked, I watched Kincaid carefully from the corner of my eye. He was anxious, movements jerky and clumsy as he stumbled ungracefully behind the Phantom, fiddling with his watch.

    I trust him as far as I can throw him.

    Unnervingly, we met no demons as we stealthily made our way to the rendezvous point, behind a bar, to meet with the construction worker that would inform us of which grate led to the underground tunnels running beneath unsuspecting citizens' feet.

    Tobias's raspy, uneven breathing cut through the eerie silence as we approached the street corner of the tavern, a neon leprechaun greeting us with an animatronic toast of his frothing mug of beer, winking cheekily.

    "O'Leery's." I noted, shooting a glance at the Phantom, whose features were shrouded by her infamous hood. She didn't look my way as she crossed the empty street, a hand hovering over her concealed daggers. We trailed after her.

    The bar was lit, chatter coming from inside as we skirted around it, heading straight for the back alley that ran behind the brick building.

    Well, I guess even the danger of getting your soul sucked out won't keep alcoholics indoors at night.

    A battered, rusting car sat in the alley, the silhouette of a man inside. Flaming against the darkness inside of the car was a lit cigarette, an invisible hand holding it. Tobias strode to the vehicle with its once red, but now faded and peeling, paint and tapped on the window while Quinn and I waited around the corner.

    The man slid out. He looked to be in his thirties yet was already bald. A worn, leather coat was buttoned over his broad shoulders. Tattoos peeked from above the collar of his jacket, spiralling and twisting against the olive complexion of his skin.

    "Alberto." Tobias greeted, offering him a weak smile.

    "Cut the shit, Kincaid. Why am I out here in the middle of the damn night when those...things are on the loose?"

    "I-I've told you. We need you to tell us which sewer grate doesn't actually connect to the sewer. Don't ask, it's important."

    Alberto sighed, the cigarette dangling between his lips as he jerked his head to a sewer grate in the center of the alley.

    "This one. We were doin' some work behind here a while back-a pipe had burst or somethin', I can't really remember-and this sewer grate ain't on our blueprints and diagrams. We figured it was unfinished or somethin' like that."

    Quinn stepped out from around the corner, and Alberto glanced up at her and froze, face paling.

    "Who-who's the gal?" he stuttered, his dark eyes betraying the fact that he had a good idea of who she was.

    "You," she pointed at him, voice flat. "What are you doing here? Why did you come all of the way out here when you could've simply told Kincaid where the sewer grate was?"

    Tobias's eyes widened as did Alberto's as I, too, walked around the corner. The latter's eyes slid from Quinn and onto me.

    "Man, I must be trippin'. That is not Captain America." muttered the construction worker, gaping at me. "Yeah. I smoked too much Mary Jane."