The Price We Pay for Family - 23

 

Cont...

Torres had signed up to join the Air Force for the duty and a chance to fly. Never in a million years did he think that would entail sitting in an abandoned warehouse filled with seized illegal science equipment that might belong to a thought-t- be-gone terrorist organization watching a national icon and a disgraced former national icon argue over how to do paperwork while waiting for a delegation from the most exclusive and prosperous country in the world that the first national icon had just called up. Yeah, this was not what he had envisioned when he'd signed up. Then again, it was stuff like this that made life interesting. 

"Why'd you have to call the Wakandans? They're gonna kick my butt again." John Walker whined as he looked over the paperwork he had piled in front of him. 

"No, you won't. If you don't mouth off and don't touch them, you'll be fine." Sam rolled his eyes, "Besides, they're the only ones who know how to deal with all this stuff." He gestured at the numerous medical-looking devices behind them.

 "You give me too much credit, Captain." A young, lithe accented voice said, amused. Torres turned to see four women dressed in brilliantly patterned clothing. Two were dressed in what he was guessing was Wakandan armor and held vibranium spears. The other two wore more westernized clothing. The older in a dark green business suit with African stitching on the jacket. The younger a bright Korean jacket over brightly patterned pants. 

"Ah, I think not. One doesn't call the smartest person in the world for just anything." Sam laughed, coming over, "Thank you for coming, Shuri."

 "Of course. Wolf was your brother. He was my brother too." The youngest said softly. 

"He made his mistakes, but he honored and fixed them too." One of the guards said firmly.

 "Yes, he did. Let me introduce you to the new Falcon." Sam turned and gestured to Torres, "Joaquin Torres."

 "A pleasure, Mr. Torres." The dark green-suited woman nodded. Torres nodded back jerkily. 

"Allow me to introduce my entourage." Shuri said brightly, "Okeye, you met before." One of the guards nodded. 

"Ah yes. The General of the Dora Milaje. A pleasure to meet again." Sam nodded. 

The woman took the compliment with a nod that had the grace of a queen, "Likewise, Captain."

 "Nakia, she is the head of our humanitarian and refugee programs." Shuri turned to the green-suited woman, "She is also engaged to my brother." 

"Ah. A true force that drives the throne. He's spoken of you with glowing reports." Sam said with a nod. 

"Not too flattering, I hope. The man is a sap when it comes to words about me." Nakia said with a fond smile. 

Sam turned to the last guard and smiled, "Ah, Ayo. A pleasure to meet you again with better circumstances."

 The guard nodded back, "Try not to break any international criminals out of prison, and we shall get along fine." 

Sam laughed, "Trust me, that was not my idea."  

"Well, let's see what you've found," Shuri said eagerly. The woman followed the eager teenager over to the plethora of machinery. 

John was shifting from foot to foot as they came closer. He nodded to Ayo, "Hello." If Torres remembered right, he'd gotten his butt kicked by the Dora. Ayo, in particular, if Sam had recalled right. This should be interesting.

Ayo observed him with an air of aloofness, "Ah yes. The strapping idiot." 

Torres snorted before he could stop himself. Ayo smirked, and John shook his head, but he was smiling, "Fair enough."

 "I understand that this is all illegal medical equipment, but what does this have to do with us?" Nakia asked, looking around at the setup.

 "This." Sam handed her one of the boxes with vials in it.

 Upon reading the label, Shuri's eyes widened, "What do you want me to do with this?" 

"I want you to test it and see if it's his. And I want to know when it was taken."

 "Okay." Shuri took it and pulled a kit out from her bag. 

"What can I do?" Nakia asked. 

"You can look over some of the paper trails we've found. Tell us how much of our suspicions are founded. See if you can find a clearer picture." Sam nodded to the stacks where John had been working.

 "I don't know what you think I'll find, but I'll gladly look," Nakia said.

 "Don't be so modest. For the woman who ran the War Dogs for most of her career and started a coup against the king, you're very quiet about it." Sam grinned. 

Both Ayo and Okoye stiffened. Shuri looked impressed. Torres absorbed the new information carefully.

 The Wakandan War Dogs were an intelligence legend. No one had ever proved they existed. A secret elite group said to impede at the very highest levels of any government and burned trafficking groups to the ground. Or so it was said. 

Sam had just said that this woman, the leader of Wakanda's humanitarian affairs, had been their head at one point. Torres didn't want to even begin to unpack the whole, 'coup against the king' thing.

 "How do you know that?" Okoye asked, suspicion lacing her tone. 

"T'Challa told me once when he was drunk. Sang your praises till Bucky told him to go to bed." Sam shrugged.

 "The Black Panther cannot get drunk," Okoye said menacingly.

 "Not without Asgardian ale. I've worked around superhumans for most of my career now, Okoye. I know where they keep the good stuff." Sam said with a smile. 

"It's true. Rogers gave Barnes a small bottle after the process was complete. Got him tipsy." Shuri said, not looking up from the vials she was working with. 

Okoye pursed her lips into a thin line that said she didn't like being off-kilter like this but nodded, "Apologies." 

"Don't. I sprang that on you." Sam waved her off, going back to his paperwork.

 "I can show you what I've found if you'd like?" John offered to Nakia, motioning to the pile. They moved off to the grave of paper, leaving Okoye and Shuri alone while the younger worked on the blood sample. 

Torres shifted, unsure of what to do. Okoye watched him for a little while with a critical eye, "You are new to this, direct conflict, type of work, yes?" 

Torres nodded shakily, "Yeah, I went from backup to spotlight pretty quickly." 

"I've seen you on TV. You're quiet. Your fighting style is," the General passed to find the right word, and Torres inwardly cringed. 

He knew his fighting style was terrible. Bucky had groused over it for a whole night once before promising to teach him. Torres shoved that thought away. He tried not to think about the phantom hole they had in his and Sam's partnership. The silent but steady hole where someone should fill.

 "Chaotic." Okoye finally said, "It is chaotic. All over the place." 

"Yeah. I know. I've been trying to get better, but we haven't had a lot of time to train." Torres agreed.

 "You have time now." Okoye decided, voice leaving no room for argument. 

Torres blinked, "Now?"

 "Yes. Come here." The General retracted her spear to a baton site and clipped it to her belt. Torres felt like a child out of his depth as he approached Okeye. 

"Show me how you punch," Okoye ordered, holding up her hands. Torres slid into the stance Bucky had drilled into him on the fly and punched her left hand. 

"Wolf's technique. Put your feet out wider, so your whole body carries the force." Okoye corrects.

 "Wolf?" Torres asks, correcting his stance. 

"Yes. The White Wolf. Barnes." Okoye nods, lowering her hands after he fixes his technique, "It seems he was able to teach you some." 

"Not a lot. I didn't know you had a name for him." Torres said. 

Okoye stepped into the larger space and faced him, "Yes. Names are important. We have the ones we are given, gifts to us, good and bad, and the ones we make for ourselves. He was given the Soldier and the Hero. He made the Wolf."

 Torres stood across from her and copied her stance, arms up in the defensive, "Why the Wolf?" 

"Because he is a hunter. No one can take that from him. He will always be one, no matter what he does. But he chooses how he hunts." Okoye swung comically slow, and Torres blocked in equally slow speed. 

Torres thought of all he'd seen of Barnes' work. The calculating gaze, the lightning-fast reflexes, and the dangerous glint in his eyes when Torres had questioned his call six months ago. A hunter, to be sure, but also a protector. His thoughts were cut short when Okeye walloped his arm before kicking his feet out from under him. 

Her face twisted in amused disdain, "Completely sloppy. Again."

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