Metal and Magic

Chapter 36

Harry lay between two women, and all three of them were naked and half-tangled in the rumpled sheets of the enormous bed. Natasha’s red hair was splayed across the pillow, and Maria’s bare shoulder pressed up against Harry’s as she shifted to get a better angle on his chest. Both women were kissing him. Maria’s lips brushed against the hollow at the base of his neck, and Natasha’s mouth was on his stomach, dotting it with slow pecks that made Harry’s cock throb. He closed his eyes and relished the sensation of two soft sets of lips exploring his body.

Natasha’s hand curled around his cock, and she gripped him tightly. She stroked him in unhurried, patient tugs as her lips moved upward. Maria slid lower, letting her tongue flick against his skin before she let her palm drift between his legs. She began massaging his balls while Natasha continued to jerk the shaft.

Natasha turned her head, caught Maria’s gaze, and then the two women kissed each other. Harry watched as their mouths slowly opened, and their tongues met in the middle. The two women moaned as they deepened the kiss. He reached a hand out to each of them, cupping Natasha’s ass and running his fingers along the pale curve of Maria’s lower back. He could feel their bodies tremble as they surrendered to the pleasure. Natasha’s hand tightened slightly, and Maria’s nails grazed his skin as the intensity increased.

He might have been perfectly content to stay in that bed all day, but reality had other plans. The loud, insistent buzz of his phone ruined their moment. Natasha groaned, but she didn’t stop what she was doing. Instead, she craned her neck to the nightstand and snatched the phone before Harry could even reach for it.

“It’s an unknown number,” she said, rolling her eyes, but she handed it to him anyway.

Harry squinted at the display and thumbed the answer button. “Hello?” he answered, trying to keep his voice even as Maria playfully nipped at his skin and Natasha’s thumb dragged a slow, teasing spiral around the head of his cock.

The voice on the other end was unmistakable. “Potter. We need to meet. Now.” Fury’s tone was clipped and urgent.

Harry let out a slow exhale. “Our normal spot?” he managed, trying not to sound like he was being expertly manhandled by two sexy assassins.

Fury’s answer was immediate. “I’m already here. Don’t make me wait.”

Harry rolled his eyes and frowned at the ceiling. “I’ll be right there.” He hung up and let the phone fall to the mattress.

Natasha looked up at him, and her hair fell across her beautiful face. Harry brushed it away from her eyes and kissed her full lips. “Work?” she asked, already knowing the answer.

“Yeah,” Harry said, running a hand through her hair. “Fury wants to meet.”

Natasha made a face and gave his cock one last, almost punishing squeeze. “That’s strange. You two don’t meet up very often.” She stretched like a cat and rolled onto her back. Harry couldn’t help but stare at her big, jiggly breasts.

Maria pouted, but she just pressed a last kiss to Harry’s inner thigh before crawling up to rest her head on his chest. “Yeah. Fury usually goes through me or Natasha when he wants you for something,” she said, drawing little circles on his skin.

“When it comes to Fury, who knows?” Harry said, giving their round asses one last squeeze.

Natasha propped herself on one elbow and studied him. “It’s always something,” she groaned. “We can never have a proper weekend together.”

“You can always complain to Fury,” Harry said with a chuckle. Both girls snorted at exactly the same time.

Harry looked from one to the other, genuinely reluctant to move, but he knew Fury wouldn’t contact him personally for something small. He slid out from under Maria and swung his legs out of the bed. He stood up, reached for his clothes, and began putting them on.

While he dressed, he watched the two of them. Natasha and Maria lay side by side with their nude bodies blatantly exposed. They both watched him with matching expressions of hunger and impatience. If it hadn’t been for Fury, Harry thought, he might have stayed in that bed all day. His annoyance at the one-eyed bastard increased.

He put on his shoes and stuffed his phone into his pocket. He glanced at the bed and saw that Maria had scooted closer to Natasha, and they were now cuddled up together. He really wished he could stay in bed.

“Don’t wait up,” he said, and the two women rolled their eyes. As Harry left the room, he thought he heard two feminine moans coming from the bed. “Damn Fury,” Harry grunted as he apparated away.

Metal and Magic

Harry apparated into a large, abandoned construction yard in inland California. The only sounds were the loud chattering of birds and the faint hum of a distant highway. He landed between a toppled pile of shipping containers and a small office trailer that had lost its windows to vandals. The ground was covered in puddles of oily rainwater and scattered rebar. Harry stepped forward and scanned the horizon for any sign of Fury.

Harry had met the honorary Nick Fury about a year and a half back. At some point, Fury had decided that questions needed to be answered. Harry had told him just enough to keep him off his back, and since then, Tony and he would occasionally help out when SHIELD was in a pickle.

A lone chain-link fence ringed the lot, but nobody guarded it. At the center of the yard was a sheet-metal warehouse painted in the faded yellow of a bankrupt company. Spray paint graffiti covered every inch below the roofline. He slipped around the side, ignoring the “DANGER: KEEP OUT” sign, and pressed himself to the shadowed edge of the building.

He found the entrance easily. The sliding metal door was half-open, and the gap was wide enough for a man to slip through without making a sound. Harry wiped his hands on his jeans and ducked inside. It was much cooler in here, and the only light came from thin cracks where the morning sun poked through holes in the roof. Harry wrinkled his nose at the musty smell.

Fury stood near the back, almost invisible in the gloom. He’d picked a spot behind a stack of heavy steel girders and broken machinery. It was a spot that ensured that Fury would see whoever was entering before they saw him. Even with only one eye, he had a way of watching everything. Fury wore a black leather jacket, black slacks, and a pair of scuffed combat boots. He didn’t turn to greet Harry. He just lifted his chin slightly and said, “You’re late.”

Harry checked his phone for the time, even though he knew it was pointless. “Believe it or not, I do have a life outside of heroism and espionage. What’s so important that I had to come in person?”

“There’s an anomaly out in the desert of New Mexico. SHIELD has it quarantined, but we’re a bit stumped,” Fury told him.

Harry leaned against a forklift and crossed his arms. “Is this like the last anomaly you had Maria send me on? Because I’m pretty sure there’s still grenade shrapnel stuck in my ass.”

Fury didn’t smile. “Nothing like that. This is … different.” He jerked his thumb toward the door, and Harry followed him outside. They walked the perimeter of the warehouse, picking up speed as they rounded each corner. Fury kept his gaze fixed ahead, but Harry could tell he was scanning for eavesdroppers, invisible or otherwise.

Fury cut across a patch of weeds and stopped at a battered picnic table that looked like it had survived a small war. He slapped a thick manila folder down and gestured for Harry to sit. “Read,” Fury said, and then stared off toward the horizon while Harry flipped through the file.

The first page was a satellite photo of a desert. All he could make out was flat tan ground, scrub brush, and nothing else. The next page showed a SHIELD perimeter around large tents. The last page was a set of surveillance shots. There was a crater in the sand, and Harry could see something shiny and half-buried. Harry looked up at Fury. “What am I looking at?”

Fury’s eye flicked to the file, then back to Harry. “A few nights ago, something fell out of the sky. It hit the sand outside Puente Antiguo, New Mexico. Once we got word of it, SHIELD rolled in and secured the area, but nobody’s been able to move what landed there.”

Harry tapped the photo with his finger. “Is it radioactive?”

Fury shook his head. “No. It doesn’t give off any kind of readings. It just sits there.”

Harry squinted at the satellite image, then at the surveillance photos. The shiny object got a little clearer in each one. By the third page, it was obviously a hammer. He glared up at Fury. “You dragged me out here for this?”

Fury’s lips curled into a thin line. “If you’d read the brief, you’d know that nothing on earth has budged it. They’ve tried cranes and forklifts. They even tried to dig it out with a backhoe, but no luck. It’s stuck. And …,” he leaned in. “ … it appears that it wasn’t made on this planet.”

Harry closed the folder. “It’s a hammer,” he said again, just to make sure he wasn’t being pranked.

“Yeah,” Fury said. “A hammer that fell out of the sky and can’t be moved. I don’t care what it is or where it came from. I care about what it’s capable of and who else might try to get it.” He lowered his voice. “There’s chatter on the old Hydra comms. Somebody’s putting together a crew to steal it. I want you in the field before they get there.”

Harry considered the job for a moment, then nodded. “Fine. I’ll pack a bag and go.”

Fury pulled a burner phone from his pocket and slid it across the table before taking the file and shoving it back under his jacket. “All the coordinates you’ll need are on there. Don’t call unless you find something I need to know.” He looked at Harry, and his expression didn’t change. “And if somebody shows up to cause trouble, hit them with everything you’ve got. SHIELD can handle the cleanup.”

Harry pocketed the phone, then stood. “Alright. I’ll do what I can.”

Fury nodded, turned on his heel, and tucked his hands into his jacket pockets. “Don’t let me down, Potter.” He strode off through the yard, blending into the shadows before Harry could think of a witty comeback.

Harry watched him disappear while thinking to himself. ‘A hammer,’ Harry thought, shaking his head. He had seen weirder, but not by much.

He stood there for a minute before opening the burner phone. He scrolled through the coordinates and found Puente Antiguo, New Mexico. He smiled. The one good thing about occasionally doing jobs for Fury was that he got to see new places and meet new, strange people. Harry put the phone in his pocket and apparated away.

Metal and Magic

Harry was behind the wheel of an SHIELD-issued, black Jeep Wrangler, and he’d spent the last hour driving down a two-lane highway that cut through nothing but flat, sun-baked ground. The engine whined in protest as he tore past the posted speed limits, but Harry didn’t ease off. He kept one hand on the wheel and the other on the stick, and he checked the GPS on Fury’s burner phone when it started chirping at him. He took the next exit, which was just a stretch of gravel that led off into the scrub.

The farther he got from civilization, the more the landscape looked like it had been left to rot. There were skeletons of long-dead animals, telephone poles listing in the wind, and the only color came from the red sand and the crusty brown brush. Harry liked it. It was very different from the hustle and bustle of LA.

When he crested a low hill, he saw the lights. It was a glow in the distance, which looked very out of place in the otherwise dark landscape. As he got closer, the glow separated into different colors. There were white spotlights, the red and blue strobes of emergency vehicles, and the orange flare of floodlamps. Harry slowed when he hit the outer perimeter.

The whole setup looked like a contamination zone. At the very center of the compound was a square metal scaffolding. It was covered in white plastic sheeting. Connected to the main structure were long plastic tunnels that curved and wound. The tunnels were supported by rows of aluminum ribs, reminding him of greenhouses.

Tall, motionless cranes hovered over the entire operation. The ground around the site had been scraped flat, and fresh tire tracks made concentric circles around the fences. The whole thing was ringed with a high chain-link fence topped with razor wire, and every fifty feet there was a black SUV with its lights aimed outward. Harry counted two roving patrols with dogs, and he spotted one guy in full tactical gear standing on the roof of a mobile command trailer.

He pulled up to the checkpoint and rolled the window down. The guard had his sidearm ready, but he didn’t look nervous. He just scanned Harry’s face, then the ID badge Harry flashed him. The guard nodded and stepped away, speaking into his radio. Thirty seconds later, the steel gate rattled and slid open just wide enough for Harry to slip through.

Once inside, Harry parked the Jeep in a row with the other agency vehicles. Harry opened the door and stepped out, and right away another guard appeared at his elbow. “Mr. Potter?” the man asked, checking his list.

Harry nodded. “That’s me.” He shrugged on his backpack and followed the guy toward the main structure.

They passed under floodlights, over power cables, and past what looked like a pop-up med station. Harry caught a glimpse of a technician getting his arm bandaged. At every junction, scientists and soldiers mingled, but they kept their distance from the main structure, as if whatever was inside was strictly off limits.

At the entrance, a man in a crisp black suit was waiting. He was shorter than Harry by almost a head, but his eyes were sharp, and his handshake was businesslike. “Agent Coulson,” Harry said, greeting the man.

“Mr. Potter. Director Fury said you’d be arriving.”

Harry tried not to smirk. “He’s got a talent for dragging me out of my warm bed.”

Coulson didn’t smile, but he handed Harry a new ID badge without comment. “You’ll need this to access the main site. I’ll take you in myself.” He turned smartly and pushed through the plastic curtain, holding it open for Harry.

Inside, it was a bit quieter. The sound of the wind and generators faded somewhat and was replaced by the low hum of filtered air being pumped through the temporary ductwork. There was a chemical smell that Harry couldn’t quite put his finger on. Tables lined the room, and each one was covered in instruments, computer monitors, and notebooks. Scientists in white lab coats huddled together and quietly conversed.

Coulson led Harry down a narrow aisle, then stopped at a workstation. He gestured to a seat. “The situation is stable for now, but it’s attracted a lot of attention … both local and abroad. We haven’t been able to move the object or even take a sample. You’re here to see if you can figure out why.”

Harry eyed the workstation before sitting. “Mind if I take a look first?” he asked.

Coulson nodded. “That’s what you’re here for.” He picked up a walkie-talkie and spoke quietly into it, and a moment later, another SHIELD agent appeared to escort Harry to the core of the complex.

The tunnel to the center was narrow and lined with more plastic. At the end, it opened into a smaller, open-roofed chamber, and in the exact center, sunk halfway into a block of dry, cracked sandstone, was the hammer.

It looked exactly like the surveillance photos, only more out of place. The metal gleamed in the overhead light, and Harry could see that there were markings on the head. The shaft was wrapped in a kind of leather, and the head was so disproportionately large it looked like a cartoon weapon. Harry circled it, trying to sense something. He felt for any blatant signs of magic, but it just sat there, dense and unfathomable.

He bent at the waist and peered at the runes carved into the side. It was nothing he recognized, and he’d seen more ancient alphabets than he cared to admit. Carefully, he reached out and tapped the handle with one finger. He half expected it to zap him, but it was stone cold.

He looked over his shoulder at Coulson, who was waiting just outside the tent flap. “So, who else has tried to lift it?” he said.

Coulson actually smiled. “Everyone who’s come through that door. SHIELD brought in specialists from every field. We had physicists, metallurgists, and even a couple of biologists. Nobody’s even made it budge.”

Harry straightened and rolled his shoulders. “I’ll give it a go, then.”

He set his feet, grabbed the handle, and pulled. As advertised, nothing happened. There wasn’t even a wobble. He grunted and tried again, this time channeling a trickle of magic into the handle. There was still nothing. He let go and wiped his hand on his jeans. “That’s interesting,” he said, and Coulson nodded, as if that was the answer he’d been expecting.

“Definitely not an ordinary hammer,” Coulson agreed. “We’ve been waiting for you to take a look, since you have a … unique perspective.”

Harry ran a hand through his hair. “Did Fury say what he wanted done with it?”

Coulson gave a small, tight nod. “For now, he wants it secured. Preferably before the others show up.”

Harry raised an eyebrow. “Others?”

“We have intelligence that several parties are interested. The one we’re worried about the most is an old offshoot of Hydra. They’ve been causing a lot of trouble back in Europe, and they’re always on the lookout for anything that can increase their power.”

Harry took a step back from the hammer and studied the room. “So, what happens now?”

“I show you the rest,” Coulson said, and motioned him toward a side tunnel. “Follow me.”

Harry followed Coulson. The tunnel curved around and led to a bank of monitors, where a technician was cycling through satellite feeds and drone footage. Coulson pointed to a screen. On it, a convoy of black SUVs was winding its way through the desert, heading straight for the compound.

“We estimate they’ll arrive within the hour,” Coulson said.

Harry squinted at the screen. “Is this where I say, ‘I’ll handle it’?”

“That’s the general idea,” Coulson said, and his smile was almost genuine this time.

Harry sucked in a slow breath. He looked again at the hammer, then at the growing cluster of SUVs headed their way. “Alright,” he said. “I’ll handle it.”

Metal and Magic

Harry walked outside, keeping his eyes on the perimeter as he strode through the rows of black SUVs and white trailers. He reached his Jeep and unlocked the back door with a clack. The cargo area was empty except for a black and chrome suitcase. Its corners were beveled with glossy metal, and a fingerprint scanner was on the handle. He glanced over his shoulder and caught sight of Coulson, who had followed at a respectful distance but was clearly intrigued. Harry grabbed the case and set it in the sand by his boots.

He took off his sweatshirt and tossed it into the Jeep. Then he knelt by the case, pressing both thumbs to the sensor. The suitcase hissed, and the clasp split open. Harry popped the lid, and the top half unfolded, revealing a dense web of black and chrome metal nestled together with incredible precision.

Harry reached into the guts of the case and gripped two cold metal handles. He stood, bracing himself, and yanked. The suit slithered out, blooming open in his hands. The segmented chest plate was just large enough for his torso. He guided it against his body, and it clamped to his sternum with a pneumatic purr. The arms swung around and locked at his shoulders, then the leg plates telescoped down, snapping over his jeans and hiking boots.

The machinery moved with a low whine and a lot of metallic clanking. The helmet, which had split in half and retracted into the collar, snapped up and enclosed his head. The inside flickered to life with a heads-up display and a quick boot sequence. He curled his hands, feeling the haptic feedback as the gauntlets cinched around his fingers. Even with the weight of the exoskeleton, he felt light as the suit’s servos adjusted to his movements.

Coulson walked up with his lips pressed flat. “StarkTech?” he asked. It was more of a statement than a question.

Harry nodded and tested out his movements. “Fury didn’t say I had to go in unarmored.”

Harry’s eyes tracked a dozen icons on his HUD as the suit ran a diagnostic. Every joint was tight, and every circuit was humming and ready for a fight. He glanced at Coulson, who was still staring at the suit as if trying to memorize every rivet and seam.

“Jarvis?” Harry called out.

“I’m here, sir,” Jarvis’s familiar voice called back through his helmet.

“Is the Stark satellite above my location yet?” he asked. Harry had asked Jarvis to move one into position before his flight to New Mexico. He had a feeling he might need it.

“Yes, sir. It’s in position,” Jarvis answered.

“Good. Scan the area. There should be a group of SUVs about an hour out, heading my way.”

“Scanning now, sir,” Jarvis stated. “I’ve located the incoming vehicles. ETA is fifty-three minutes at their current speed. A waypoint has been overlaid on your HUD.”

“Great work, Jarvis,” Harry said, stretching his muscles. Harry then turned to Coulson, who looked like he wanted nothing more than to have his own suit. “You may want to take a step back,” Harry said with more than a little bit of humor.

Coulson had barely taken a step when the suit’s boosters fired, sending sand and smoke barreling toward him. “AAACK!” Coulson shouted out as he landed on his ass. When he looked up, all he could see was a pinprick of fire as Harry rocketed into the sky. He got to his feet with a groan, brushed off his sand-covered trousers, and rushed back into the station so he could watch everything unfold.