Avengers 1. Prologue

**Disclaimer:** I am not Joss Whedon (director of The Avengers) and so therefore I do not own his works. I also do not own Iron Man, Captain America, the Incredible Hulk, Thor, Black Widow, Hawkeye or any other Marvel characters. No copyright infringement intended, and all trademarks and copyrights go to their respective owners.

**Author's Note:** Hello everyone! This is my first _Avengers_ fanfic, and I'm pretty excited to share it. I haven't had much practice in writing suspenseful, mysterious stories yet, so I'm experimenting with this one and I am very open to any constructive criticism you guys wanna give. Any help is greatly appreciated!

From Chapter One onwards this story will be written in first-person through the eyes of a new recruit to the Avengers / SHIELD team (my OC Coye Mortan). So therefore, the following chapters won't be from any of the movies' original characters' POVs, but it _will_ include them (a lot).

**Warning:** Right now, the story is rated T, and it may stay like that throughout the entire fic. However, because I will be relying on the level of action which will develop along with the plot, there _is_ a chance of extensive swearing and/or graphic violence to be in some future chapters, possibly knocking the rating up to M. So all I ask is that you please take note of this as you read, and I will put a warning on chapters if I believe them to be graphically violent in any way.

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**TRACES**

**~.~**

_"In times like these, you find even the worst of human will be the nicest man when something else is worse out there."  
– _Unknown

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**Prologue**

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_Reaching out, three long, knobby fingers brushed against the glowing blue surface of the Cosmic Cube. The object pulsed as a thin white line shot from its centre, and an audible _zap_ charged through the air. The shocked hand yanked itself back, a guttural shriek voiced from the owner's throat, and a slender shadow cast itself across the cube before the presence vanished._

_..._

"It has come to my attention that a new threat has risen," the Director of S.H.I.E.L.D spoke from the head of the table. His voice echoed about the silent room with a seriousness that tightened in his chest, but with the set of his shoulders and how he stood, there was no determining whether his words were emotionally affected. "Two days ago, Doctor Banner rang me with some alarming news."

As the Director turned to pace, the soft light of the room glinted off his polished black boots and cast shadows across the single patch over his left eye. His voice was a quiet rumble as he spoke, his movements silent and calculated. "He reported that his gamma radiation detection systems have been operating suspiciously. These systems are state-of-the-art equipment, specifically designed to identify, locate and measure gamma radiation from a definite source, but lately they've been showing traces of gamma radiation moving too swiftly from locations to be measured. They are failing to quantify how potent the source is and what effect it could have. This is a danger, as the source has been found moving through densely populated areas, emitting rays that could be fatal.

"We have assumptions that the source is travelling. To where and why, we don't know. The only explanation right now is that someone – or some_thing_ – is harbouring a power a fraction of the strength of the Tesseract. With readings of a similar nature, we suspect that this power is like the cube.

"What I don't like, is how this source came to be." The Director paused and his eyes travelled quietly over the seated audience, personally singling out five pairs of different eyes. "We all know the Tesseract was taken back with Thor and Loki, so I want you to track down this new energy and find out what it's doing, how it's being controlled." His hands, which were previously clasped behind his back, came up to grip the edge of the clear table. He leaned forward in his intimidating height to express his urgency to his silent listeners, his tone firm. "I remember saying a few months ago that we would all go our separate ways until the next threat was found," lines wearied his face as his one good, brown eye scanned over the seated figures before him, his stare hard and demanding. "Unfortunately, I believe today is that day."

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**Author's Note:** Thanks for reading, reviews welcome!


	2. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** I am not Joss Whedon (director of The Avengers) and so therefore I do not own his works. I also do not own Iron Man, Captain America, the Incredible Hulk, Thor, Black Widow, Hawkeye or any other Marvel characters. No copyright infringement intended, and all trademarks and copyrights go to their respective owners.

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**Chapter One**

– Proposition –

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_The tall figure stumbled blindly into the darkness of a nearby alley, its lean frame collapsing against the grey wall as a sharp moan left its lips. Out on a passing pathway a pair of curious eyes tried to peer through the shadows, but when the hidden figure convulsed and released a long, piercing screech, the witness fled. Their heels clicked against the pavement, and as their hurried departure echoed down the laneway, a grotesque wailing followed._

_..._

The training grounds were cold in the early hours of predawn darkness, and the bodies standing stiffly in the gloom didn't move a muscle despite the chill. The extent of their discipline was intense enough that they seemed to be able to control their shivers, and I suspected that most of them did it out of the fear of punishment if they so much as battered an eyelash.

Their group was small, with fog swarming in about their muddied black boots and reaching up against their legs, as if trying to crawl up and sneak in under their pants. They stood like soldiers, solid and erect with their eyes focussed forward as they quietly held their positions. They each carried a heavy-looking pack on their back, and I knew they were part of the Special Forces by the slightly darker colours of brown they wore. Regular soldiers wore much lighter clothes, and were perhaps trained less severely.

From my position in the office, I could tell that these men were pushed hard. The expressionless facades their faces adopted hinted at that much, and if their rigid postures weren't proof enough of how strict they'd lived, I wasn't sure what was. They stood ready, guns at their sides and other weapons hidden, their stance balanced and respectful as their eyes, although coldly guarded, seemed to hold some silent death threat to all those that dared stand in their path. They were merciless, mindless fighters; I could see that from my seat meters away, behind a solid brick wall and white blinds. All sense of individuality had been knocked out of them long ago, leaving behind the shadows of men who knew nothing but what they were commanded; they were putty in their superiors' hands.

"Captivating, aren't they?" the voice spoke on my left, and I shifted my head around to look. In the doorway loitered a man lean on fat but loaded with muscle. He was short and strong, with balding hair receding halfway back on his head and bold grey wisps at his ears. Sadly enough, there seemed to be more fluff on his finely shaved chin than there was on his actual head, so it was safe to think he wasn't the most attractive man I'd ever met. And he was at least twenty years older than my twenty-two status.

I turned my gaze back out the window as I felt his cool green eyes sweep over my figure, a habit many men had fallen into when greeted with my presence. Soft footfalls announced his advance toward me, and I discreetly reached around my side hidden from him to brush my fingers against the handle of my gun. "They are something," I answered quietly, my soft voice breaking the silence between us. When I turned back to him, it was as if my smooth tone or supportive words had eased the tension from his shoulders, because he soon straightened out of his defensive stance and gave me an easy smile. I met his eyes, and although unable to fully guard my own I could choose what expression they showed. Right now, it was a false sense of awe.

A small smirk grew on the man's lips as he read my expression, and I withheld my own smile. _Let him think what he wants_, I told myself silently, keeping my eyes trained on him. He moved around in front of me – passing the mahogany desk that acted as a brief barrier between us – before advancing to the window, his hands clasped neatly behind his back. Yet despite how relaxed he seemed, I'd been told of how dangerous he was. This wasn't as simple a case as some I'd done, but then again, I hadn't expected it to be.

"So why are you here, Miss Oakley?" I kept my serious expression in check as he addressed me by one of my false aliases, and settled my hands neatly in my lap as he spun to stare at me. Pressing my right elbow into my side, I found comfort in the handle of the gun hidden beneath my blazer, ready to use if need be.

Up until now, I'd managed to play my way into his office. From those I'd met, they were either oblivious to my real reasons for being here, or they were disguised and on my side. But now that I was where I needed to be, I found there was no use for pretentious appearances.

With a clearing of my throat I crossed my legs and looked up at him, a challenge in my eyes. "I've been sent to acquire information on the legalities of your actions, Mister Gab." My words brought on an almost melodramatic effect as I sensed the tension in the room fly so high that I could feel it stiffen in my lungs. Yet I kept my breathing easy and held his eyes as rage darkened his expression. His stance turned defensive again as I watched, and a lethal gleam raced through his eyes.

Before he could speak, I butted in. "Now, there's no need to get violent, Sir. I have eyes and ears surrounding this building at this very moment, and it would be wise for you not to make the wrong move. After all, they can hear everything through me." At his disbelieving expression I turned my head and tapped the earpiece in my ear. "They're listening right now, actually."

A moment of silence passed between us as I watched him internally argue with himself. When he spoke, his voice was strained, "You're bluffing." His top lip curled slightly in a snarl as he tried to reason with himself, eyes furious. "This is a secret base, not many know of its location."

"So how did you expect me to get here in the first place?" I challenged, arching a brow as I stared at him. An angry blush spread across his cheeks before he masked his expression, and the sudden change in his exterior put me on edge. In the past, I'd had plenty of men turn on me with the eery calm that could be worse than the screaming fury. Depending on who did it and how, the tactic was quite useful - I'd used it myself, on occasions.

"Who are you?" his voice was calm as he spoke - as I'd expected from his sudden mood change - and as solid as his emotionless front.

"Detective Mortan," I answered plainly.

"You're a _sleuth!_" he spat, gaze full of fire before dying into a stony disguise once more. I rolled my eyes at his attempt of an insult.

"Well, that's another name we have, yeah –"

"How did you get in?" he growled, unexpectedly launching himself from his position to stalk my way. I reached up to pointedly tap my ear in an attempt to remind him of my backup, but he unwisely chose to ignore. As he loomed over me in my seat I picked up on the sense that he was trying to intimidate me, and trying to use our height difference – thanks to my current seated position – to his advantage.

He was a smart fellow, I'd give him that. But I wasn't going to fall for his tactics.

"Tell me!" he demanded, his voice a hiss as he leaned closer and trapped me to the chair by resting his hands on the armrests either side. I held his gaze and conveyed my stubbornness as I resisted the urge to lean my head away from his. I did grimace slightly, though, when our noses brushed and we ended up breathing the same air.

At my silence the muscles in his arms tightened and he gripped the chair harder, opening his mouth to snarl something else before I once again butted in. "Contacts are everything!" a charming smile accompanied my words and his eyes narrowed.

"_What_ contacts?"

"Confidential contacts, I'm afraid." I stated firmly, aiming to provide no ground for further argument.

"Unless you want this meeting to become _very _confidential, I suggest you tell me who they are!" For a superior, I was surprised at how angry he got, and how easily that anger was provoked. Shouldn't he have a little more control, a little more discipline?

Then again, he wasn't all he was cut out to be.

"Mister Gab," I began, shifting in my seat to get comfortable and put a little space between our faces, to which he smirked. "Are you aware that there is a team of agents in my ear ready to burst through that door, that window and the unlit fireplace if you dare to event _lift_ your hand in an act of intimidation?"

Another pause passed between us, in which Gab's eyes narrowly searched my own for the truth. I let the emotions in my gaze turn raw and truthful, conveying the sincerity to my threat. It was only polite in his current predicament to receive a warning, despite how it looked that I was the victim.

"What are you doing here?" he managed to mutter after a while, coming to the conclusion that I was honest.

"I've told you – "

"_What actions?"_

"Yours, obviously," I replied shortly. "And despite assumptions held against you that you seem to be a fraud – which has me _amazed_ as to how you got into this base if those assumptions are correct – there are also some crimes with your name written _all_ over them."

"So you're here to arrest me, huh?" he scowled, and my brows shot up in surprise.

"What, no comment on how 'innocent' you are and how those murders don't even relate to you?" I tilted my head in amusement, eyes taunting, trying to get another rise out of him, perhaps make him slip the truth. "Nothing at all? No pleading?"

Gab narrowed his eyes at my words, his grip on the chair softening, as if preparing for something. "You little bitch, I'll strangle you if you so much as _speak_ about my murders – "

That was all the evidence I needed.

The door chose that moment to burst open as armed soldiers filled the room. They only came through the door, so the inclusion of the window and fireplace break-ins _may_ have been a little overkill, but it was effective nonetheless. Gab glanced at them quickly, tense, before relaxing and turning an arrogant smirk on me. "It seems you've been found out, Miss Mortan."

When my smile matched his own, his brows drew together in confusion, a shadow of worry passing through his eyes. "No, Mister Gab. It appears _you_ have been found out, and it is _you_ who will be strangled if you so much as touch me."

Courtesy to the man's arrogant attitude, he lifted a brow, scorning. "These are my men, detective. You're all alone."

"Yes, your men," I agreed confidently, voice quick and thoughts quicker. "But contacts are everything!"

A strangled cry left Gab's throat as a soldier stepped forward and yanked on his arm, twisting it up behind his back and kicking out his knees. The impressive muscles in his shoulders strained as he struggled, but with his disadvantaged position the soldier didn't have to wrestle too much, especially when a comrade came to help.

With a pleasantly plastic smile I pushed up from my seat and smoothed down my grey pencil skirt. Sidestepping to get out of the way of Gab's furious kicks and screaming threats, I took a glance out the window to see the small group of soldiers I'd previously admired had disappeared. Turning around, I saw them spread throughout the room, relaxed now that the threat was taken care of.

My grey heels clicked as I strode over to one of the disguised soldiers, clasping my hands politely before me and giving him a soft smile. "Thank you, Agent." While I didn't exactly know his name, I knew what he was. He was part of the setup from outside, my temporary aid if I needed it.

And apparently, I did.

The agent glanced down at me with cool, calculating eyes, giving a quick nod before spinning on his heel. "One of my Agents will escort you out, Miss Mortan. S.H.I.E.L.D wishes to thank you for your service."

With a stiff smile the man then quickly strode away, another pair of footsteps approaching me. If I hadn't turned, I would have never known he was moving he was that silent. I glanced at him, his sandy-brown hair and grey eyes making me pause. He was young, possibly in his late twenties, with a solid frame and smooth movements. The gun slung over his right shoulder by the strap seemed to be disregarded as he looked around, but with eyes as sharp as his I was sure his reflexes would be just as quick. It made me uneasy, interacting so cordially with a man seemingly so dangerous.

Of course, I'd had my fair share of serial killers and close calls with death over the years, but I'd been in my element then. There was no need to act friendly, no need to put on a tense smile and greet with carelessness. I'd found comfort in threatening my target - but then again, this agent wasn't my target.

When the agent glanced to me he must have seen the nervousness in my eyes, because he flashed a quick, comforting smile before wiping his expression clean. The action didn't really help, but the thought was sweet.

"Miss Mortan?" he questioned, stopping in front of me with his feet spaced evenly apart, much like a balanced fighter. I gave him a nod, not too eager on words at the moment. "I'm Agent Barton, here to escort you home. If you'd come with me, please?"

_Well, at least he has manners_, my mind reasoned as I turned to follow him. Without much thought I sped up to walk alongside him, refusing to be lead behind any man. He gave me a curious look before we exited the building, but said nothing.

As we clambered into the black SUV I took one glance at the quiet redhead seated opposite before the nerves fully kicked in. Taking an uneasy seat on the edge of the cushion, I glanced between the woman and Agent Barton as he settled himself beside her and relaxed, although I could tell he was ready. Spotting the small pile of papers in the woman's hands, I forced myself to swallow and laced my fingers together to prevent them from shaking. And with a glance out the darkly tinted window I watched as we pulled out of the barracks and sped down a familiar road.

"Miss Mortan?"

I turned to the previously silent woman, "I'm not going home, am I?" Agent Barton lifted his eyes to stare at me as I asked the question, my voice mellow so as to prevent the nervousness slipping out with my words – I refused to sound afraid. Quietly, he shook his head. I swallowed again. "So where am I going?"

"S.H.I.E.L.D has a proposition for you." the redhead stated, and I could already tell this conversation would be short and to the point.

"Like the offer I just carried out?" I asked dryly, unable to stop myself from the provocative tone I used. "Another temporary job done from the goodness of my heart for an organisation I know hardly anything about?"

"No," the redhead answered, voice calm as she shook her head and ignored my sarcastic comments, or just cleverly hid her reaction. "This job will be permanent."

_Permanent?_ I thought silently, gaze roaming between the two as they sat quietly side-by-side, the perfect agent partners. I could tell the redhead was also an agent by the way she composed herself. Cool, calm, collected; she was just as ready as Agent Barton.

"And what does this job entail?" I inquired softly, unsettled under their unwavering gazes, and I could tell they knew how I felt. If not for my eyes – which I tried to fill with assertiveness, but who was I kidding, they were trained agents – they'd see my rigid posture. It never was easy being around such experts, they were all so cold.

"We wish to use your detective skills to aid us in tracking down a global threat. We hear you are possibly the best in your field." the redhead spoke, her gaze meeting mine. Although her green eyes were piercing and mine were like an open book, I forced myself to stand her scrutiny, giving a small nod. When she blinked, her gaze softened the tiniest bit, as if in respect, and the stiff line of her lips curved upwards the smallest amount.

The ghost of a smile. What was she so pleased about?

I looked away before I began imagining that she was really smiling. It couldn't be too hard, but up until now I'd deduced that both agents were extremely reserved – with Agent Barton being a little more casual, a little friendlier, but not much of a talker at the moment.

I took another glimpse out the window, frowning at the unfamiliarity of my whereabouts. "Will I have a choice in joining or not?" I turned back to the pair, whose masked eyes were settled solely on me.

"The Director will speak to you about that." was all Agent Barton said.

Cryptic much?

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**Author's Note:** Thanks for reading, reviews welcome!


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Avengers, Mystery, Suspense