I was woken up by my tiny human bouncing up and down on me.
"Mommy, wake up!"
"Good morning," I groaned. She was unusually energetic today, guess that's good.
"Ready to start the day? We've got a lot to do."
She nodded with a grin, thrilled to explore New York City.
After getting dressed, we headed out on foot. Driving here yesterday was a nightmare, and we'd blend in better walking. But first, breakfast. Some of the crew on the cargo ship swore I needed to try a corner store bagel and a donut. Said they were the best in New York.
I'd never had a donut. Ever. So that was our first stop.
Inside, a glass display showcased a dazzling assortment of donuts, too many choices. Mira pressed her face to the glass, practically vibrating with excitement.
"What can I get for you?" the man behind the counter asked.
"Two bagels, and a donut, whichever one she picks."
"Which cream cheese?"
I blinked at him. He pointed to a nearby case filled with tubs of flavored cream cheese: plain, strawberry, blueberry, jalapeño, and more. Sounded appealing and nauseating at the same time.
"I want the pink one," Mira declared, pointing at a round donut with pink frosting and rainbow sprinkles.
He quickly scooped it into a paper sleeve and waited for my decision on the bagels.
Mira chimed in again. "Let's do pink and then purple!" She pointed at the strawberry and blueberry cream cheeses.
"Do that," I said to the man.
We paid and found a nearby bench to eat. I kept my hood up, just in case anyone was still looking for me. No one knew about Mira though, so she was free to run around.
The rest of the day was spent getting her new clothes, essentials for the motel, and just wandering the city. Normally, I'd head straight to the darker corners to get what I needed, but that wasn't a place for a child. I'd wait for Goliath.
When Mira got tired, we ducked into a public library. I let her sleep on my lap while I tried to work the computer. I had to ask a librarian for help, it had some kind of lock. Even after all this time, tech still felt like a second language. I ended up asking a kid sitting nearby, maybe eight or nine, for help. He knew what he was doing.
I checked the news. No updates on the Avengers. Nothing on Bucky either. Dead end.
A few hours later, Mira woke up and we left. We grabbed sandwiches for dinner at a nearby shop. That's when my phone rang.
"Hello?"
"Hey Boss. I found what you were looking for. Kind of."
"Where is he?"
"He should be back in New York already. We found some government files, apparently he was given a pardon by the UN in exchange for certain conditions."
"Interesting. Do you know where in New York?"
"Brooklyn. I couldn't find the exact address, the files are partially redacted. I'll keep digging."
"No need. Where do I go for the unredacted copies?"
"They'd be in D.C., where the verdict was made. But you might find something at the Federal Office there in New York. One of the conditions is that he's being monitored, so they should have a record."
"Perfect. I'll go tomorrow. Thanks, Goliath."
"Anytime. Also… there's something else."
"What?"
"I found Sierra."
I tensed.
"She's… she died."
A deep breath. The cut was sharp.
"How?"
"After we got snapped, she tried to keep things together in Madripoor. A few weeks later, the place got raided. She ran, tried to escape. Picked the wrong smuggler. He… sold her for parts."
Silence. A scream echoed in my head, but I couldn't let it out. Not here.
"I don't know exactly when it happened. But about a year after we blipped, that's when her burner went silent."
"Goliath… find him. And tell Roller to throw a party."
"I figured you'd say that. Already located him. Roller's on it."
"Good."
I hung up. Nothing more to say. That sweet kid was gone.
Would she still be alive if she hadn't worked for me? Or did I buy her more time?
I looked at Mira, still quietly finishing her sandwich. I couldn't tell her. That would be cruel. Best she just forget Sierra.
Another name added to my ledger. I never knew her last name. Maybe she didn't have one. When I return to Madripoor, I'll give her a headstone in the garden, right by the pink rose bush she loved.
Until then… I'll remember. You were alive. You weren't just parts.
I hope you knew that in the end, Sierra.
"Mom? What's wrong?"
"Nothing, honey. You done eating? We should get going."
"Are we going to see Dad now?"
"Not yet, baby. But soon."
"Okay." She hopped down, took my hand, and we left.
Back at the Blue Inn, I tucked her into the tub with the brown bunny plushie we'd bought. Then I spread out the city map and located the federal building. I couldn't bring Mira, it wouldn't be safe. I'd go tonight while she slept.
I called Goliath.
"Yes, Boss?"
"Remember when we broke into that arms dealer's place? I plugged something into his computer, and you all got everything you needed."
"Yeah. There was a virus on the drive…"
"I need one."
"Got it. I'll contact Echo. You'll probably need to buy a thumb drive and load it yourself. I'll call back."
Echo, our cyber specialist, was damn good at what she did. I'd never met her in person. Said she preferred staying off-grid, living through the 'cyber realm,' as she called it.
He called back a few minutes later and gave me an address. One of Echo's contacts would be able to provide me with the drive I need.
I checked on Mira, left her a note with snacks, water, and a game in case she woke up.
The address led to another motel. I checked in under "Russell Harlem." The man at the counter handed me an envelope.
Inside: a thumb drive and a slip of paper with login credentials.
The plan was simple. Get into one of the back offices, plug in the drive after logging in, and Echo would access the federal database remotely. It would only give her limited access, but enough to find Bucky's location, and scrub the logs after.
The building was massive, all glass and steel. Closed for the night, of course. I masked up, hid my hair in a beanie, and pulled my hood up. A few janitors moved inside under the dim lights.
There were a hundred ways I could do this. But I had no resources, no time, and even less patience.
Old-fashioned it is.
I went around back and ripped the fire door open. Alarms screamed to life. Only some areas would lock down, fire codes ensured people could escape.
I may or may not have tossed some gasoline and a lighter onto a hallway floor on my way up and shut the door behind me. That should keep the fire department busy.
I ran up the stairs to floor fourteen, the offices Goliath had mentioned. I broke into one. Standard desk, leather chair, filing cabinet. I logged in using the credentials, then plugged in the thumb drive.
The screen glitched, then streamed lines of code. Moments later, it returned to normal, then the cursor began moving on its own. Files opened and closed, a loading bar appeared, six-minute timer ticking down.
I leaned back. Beside the monitor sat a framed photo, some rat-like dog with bulging eyes.
Creepy.
I knocked the photo off the desk. It shattered.
After three minutes, I heard the sirens. Fire trucks. Good response time. The police wouldn't be let in until the fire was dealt with, which means I still have time.
At six minutes, a soft chime notified me the transfer was complete. I pulled the drive, smashed the office window, and looked down. Emergency crews were swarming, but they didn't notice me.
I leapt.
Landed in a tree.
Ow.
Doesn't matter how many times I do that, it always hurts.
I dropped from the branches, took off into the dark. Crushed the drive in my hand, scattered the pieces into several dumpsters.
By sunrise, I was back at the motel. Mira was still asleep, undisturbed.
I destroyed the note I'd left her and waited in the bedroom for Goliath's call.
The phone chimed. Chimed.
I flipped open my phone to see the screen saying 1 new message.
Oh, this fucker texted it.
I called him immediately.
"Hey, Boss. Echo found the address pretty quick. She's still combing through everything else we pulled."
"What's the address?"
"I texted it to you."
"...I don't know how to text."
"I sent it, all you have to do is hit 'view message.' It's easy."
"Damn it, Goliath. Just tell me the address."
He laughed. "Okay, okay. It's—"
I wrote it down on the motel pad.
"Thanks. Don't text me again."
"Next time I see you, I'm teaching you how to text. Or getting you a smartphone."
"Don't." I hung up.
Now I had his address.
All that was left was to find him, and tell him.
You know… just the easy part.