The debriefing with Tony did not go so well, as Francis expected. It wasn't that Tony was mad or disappointed in him for letting the guy get away; he had interrogated him, which was the mission in the first place. It wasn't even that Tony was being inconsiderate. The billionaire happened to understand completely that Francis had been outnumbered and taken by surprise.

The problem was that Tony was desperate. He was craving information, hanging onto every detail he was given. Any small amount of light Francis could shed on the situation had Tony gripping onto it. The archer knew his guardian's search for information on the whole reanimation ordeal was slowly becoming more and more of an obsession.

The worst part of all was that Francis knew it was because of Ultron.

It was without a doubt that Tony blamed himself for what Ultron had done. He was the creator of the robot, after all. But the thing was that Tony couldn't have known what Ultron was going to do. It was a mistake, a catastrophic mistake at that, but still a mistake. Even Francis, who'd watched his father die at the hands of the android, eventually forgave Tony.

His inner demotion over Ultron caused Tony to stop at nothing to figure out this reanimation fiasco. The billionaire would spend countless hours ensuring that no other global threats would harm Earth. He wouldn't let humanity get caught up in another disaster, not if he could do something to stop it this time.

At the end of the debriefing, Tony had sighed and placed his head in his hands. He was exhausted.

Francis had then simply stood up and placed his hand on Tony's shoulder, telling him to get some sleep before exiting the room.

The archer now stood outside the debriefing room, sighing and running a hand through his hair. It felt slick with sweat, reminding him of how much he needed a shower.

A shower, a cold glass of water and sleep. That sounded great.

Francis began to walk down the hall, heading towards the elevator. The bedrooms were all four floors up, on the fourteenth floor of the tower.

After Ultron's defeat, Ultra City had been stripped off all of its mechanical horror and returned to its former glory as Manhattan, New York. While the Next Avengers had begun to work with numerous world leaders to help rebuild society, Tony had also took the liberation to build the team a new home. The new and improved Avengers Tower had twenty floors. The bottom ten were used for training and superhero purposes while the upper ten were used as a living area.

As soon as Francis reached the elevator, the doors opened to reveal a familiar face.

"Going up?" James Rogers asked, sweat running down his face. He was in a pair of running shoes and athletic clothes. The archer guessed he must have been either training or going for a run.

"Yeah."

Francis slumped against the side of the elevator, his tired bones about ready to give out. Maybe some sleep before the mission wouldn't have been a bad idea.

Speaking of sleep...

He turned to the redhead next him, an eyebrow raised. "Why are you up this early?"

The teen in question just shrugged, blue eyes downcast to the floor. "I couldn't sleep."

Francis couldn't help but be surprised by that statement. James was the heaviest sleeper he knew and would sleep until noon if he had the chance. "You couldn't sleep? What is the world coming to! What's next, Pym no longer claiming that he's a genius?"

James smirked at the archer's response, turning around to face him. Leave it to Francis to come up with a sarcastic response even when he was about to tip over from lack of sleep. "No, it's not like that. I just had a lot on my mind, especially with this new threat and all."

Francis nodded in response. He understood exactly what James was saying. If this reanimation ordeal was as big an issue as it was talked out to be, then this could be the biggest thing they've faced since Ultron.

And that was saying something.

The elevator opened with a ding and the two boys stepped out, walking down the hall together until they reached their rooms and went their separate ways.

•••

James ran a hand through his damp red hair as he left his room, heading towards the elevator. After taking a heavenly shower and getting dressed, he decided to head to the living room to try to find some sort of relaxation.

After reaching his desired destination, James walked into the room to see someone already there.

Azari T'Challa was sitting on the couch, an open book in his hands. His golden eyes were trained on the pages in front of him, only straying away to give James a warm smile once he entered the room.

"Good morning."

"Morning, 'Zar," The redhead responded as he sat down next to him, turning on the TV to the first sports station he could think of.

Azari put his book down and turned to face James, a smirk on his face. "It's only 8:03 AM. Shouldn't you still be asleep for four more hours?"

"Shut up," The boy responded as he lightly punched the Wakandan on the shoulder. He then looked around the room. "Where's everyone else?"

Azari thought for a second before responding. "Pym went out to some game store to be the first to buy this new video game. Since he can't leave the Tower alone, he somehow managed to convince Torunn to go with him. As for Francis, I'm pretty sure you know where he is."

James nodded. He knew exactly where Francis was. As soon as he had finished his shower, the archer had hit the hay and feel right on asleep. The redhead was glad for that, because sleep was exactly what the teen needed. Francis had been real low on energy in the elevator, James could tell because he had only been half as snarky and sarcastic as usual.

The two boys eventfully fell into their usual conversation, enjoying each other's company. A feeling of ease quickly overcame them, any troubles on their mind melting away like snow in the bright sun.

•••

The warm June air settled upon the city  like a thin blanket as sunshine flowed down from the skies. The concrete jungle known as Manhattan was filled with people going about their routine activities and enjoying the new day.

A quant little coffee shop sat on the corner of two busy streets. People sat at the tables and chairs, catching up together or enjoying a nice mocha before work.

Siting alone at one of the outdoor tables was a girl with platinum blonde hair that reached her mid-back and tan skin. She was dressed in a pair of black riding boots, black leggings, a grey v-neck and a black leather jacket. A pair of black sunglasses sat atop her nose, dark grey irises hidden behind them.

The girl, who looked to be in her late teens, surveyed the streets before. As much as she would like to have a worry-free morning and enjoy the nice day like everyone else at the coffee shop, she couldn't. She had a job to do.

Picking up her frappuccino and taking a cautious sip, she kept her eyes open for any suspicious activity. She was not going to fail this mission. This assignment was crucial to the safety of not only the entire country, but the entire planet. SHIELD had been compiling data from mission after mission on this reanimation project for months now. They finally located a device carrying the mother-load of all information, and she had been given the task of obtaining it.

The comm link in her ear buzzed to life, the voice of Nick Fury himself coming through.

"Mockingbird, targets are approaching your location."

Francine Barton sat up a bit straighter in her chair, pressing her fingers to the device in her ear. "Which direction are they coming from?"

"They're going to be coming from your right. They're about a block away right now."

The spy set her coffee down. She needed to focus on getting the last few details she needed for this mission. "Okay, so what exactly is this device I'm going to be looking for?"

She heard Fury type something on a computer through the comm. He then responded. "All the information we seek is going to be on a flash drive in the taller guy's suit jacket pocket."

Francine frowned. "Flash drive in a pocket? Isn't that a little elementary?"

"They're trying to make this whole thing as inconspicuous as possible."

"Well in that case, I guess it makes sense."

It was then that two men in suits came from around the corner. One of them looked to be around 5' 11" and in his late 20's while the other seemed to be 6' 2" and in his mid 30's. Each of them had on a pair of sunglasses with pitch black lenses.

Suits and sunglasses. Classic evil spy attire.

"Targets spotted," Francine began. "I'm going in."

"Noted. Be careful, Barton."

"Please, since when am I not careful?"

She could practically hear Fury rolling his eyes before the comm went silent. She took a second to examine her jacket for stains, remaining inconspicuous while still watching the duo of men from the corner of her eye as they passed her. Sitting back, she took one last sip of her coffee before standing up and throwing the cup away, following the men.

She stayed a few yards back, close enough to keep them in her sight yet far enough to avoid suspicion. She knew that Fifth Avenue was going to be crowded, so it would slow them down. She could advance on them then.

Francine trailed them for about six more minutes before she saw them slow slightly. She frowned, they weren't anywhere close to Fifth Avenue yet. These streets were pretty desolate, which was strange for a populated place such as Manhattan.

She narrowed her eyes. Something was up.

She took notice to their postures. They had both stiffened slightly, their muscles tensing through their suits. Their steps seemed more planned, almost as if they were coordinating their movements in their head, preparing to do something. It was then that she noticed they had also slowed their gait. While the spy had once been a couple of yards behind them, she was now only a few feet away.

Realization then struck her. They had figured out they were being followed.

In a matter of seconds, the two agents had spun around and grabbed Francine, throwing her into a nearby alley. The shorter guy pinned her against the wall, gripping onto her shoulders painfully. She made an effort to not show any signs of being in pain.

The taller guy stepped out from behind his partner. "Well, well, well, what is this I see?"

"Assault," Francine deadpanned as she motioned her head towards the guy's grip on her shoulders.

The agent rolled his eyes, a small amount of anger flashing across his face. "That's not what I was talking ab- Nevermind. Why the heck are you following us, kid?"

Francine looked to him. "I would love to answer that question, but.."

With one swift motion, Francine had lifted her legs off the ground, delivering a double push kick to the shorter guys chest. He fell back onto the ground while Francine landed feet first, standing up.

"That's classified information."

The agents then realized that she was a SHIELD agent. The taller guy soon advanced on her, and she quickly turned around, delivering a straight punch to the side of his head. He stumbled back.

Francine threw a back-hand-spring, quickly distancing herself from the agents. She needed time to assess her situation. She examined the two men some more as they came to. Obviously they had the advantage of height, the shorter of the duo still beating her 5' 8" stature by a few solid inches. They also looked to have the advantage of strength, since they were both admittedly very muscular with large builds. While Francine was definitely stronger than she looked, she wouldn't exactly say they were evenly matched on strength. Yet, while they had the advantages of strength and height, she had the advantage of speed. Her smaller, more lithe frame allowed her to be faster and more agile than them. As for combat expertise, she wasn't completely sure. While going from apprehended to on the offensive in a matter of seconds made her feel confident, she wasn't sure what moves these men were capable of pulling.

Both men were now standing upright again, their gazes of red hot anger trained on her. They took a second to analyze her before advancing, running at her with raised fists. Francine took a running start and jumped off the ground, flipping over and behind the first agent. She used her momentum to grab him and throw him over her shoulder, sending him to collide with his comrade.

The two men were a bit more slower with this recovery than with their first one, so Francine took that as a good sign. The taller man then came towards her, his left fist raised up and going towards her shoulder. She blocked it, but as she did so the man's right fist came and delivered a severe punch to her stomach. She quickly recoiled and doubled over slightly, her arms folded over her stomach. The shorter guy then came and forcefully shoved her onto the ground, the teenager landing on her side.

She really wished Fury would have let her bring her battle staves. This fight could've been over already.

Francine quickly moved into a crouching position, sliding her leg out and performing a sweeping kick, successfully knocking the taller guy's legs out from under him. He hit the ground head first, out like a light.

The spy then stood up, turning towards the other agent. He had a slightly scared look on his face, taking a few glances to his fallen partner. Francine quickly advanced on him and delivered an uppercut to his jaw, causing him to hit the brick wall and knock out cold.

The platinum blonde examined the scene, taking in her handiwork. She looked to the taller guy and approached his unconscious form. Stooping down next to him, she stuck her hand into his suit jacket pocket, feeling around until her fingertips graced smooth plastic.

She pulled the object out, seeing a sleek black USB in her hand. Smirking, Francine put her fingers to her comm link.

"Fury, this is Mockingbird. I've got the device."