I watched National Treasure while I wrote the bulk of this chapter, which I hoped helped improve the quality ;) 

Anyway, enjoy!

~Songs~

Preperation Montage- National Treasure soundtrack

Edit: lokidottir

Chapter Twenty-Three

~Thea's POV~

I do not sleep that night, for multiple reasons. One is that I'm nervous about tomorrow. Two is, of course, the nightmares. I manage not to scream tonight, but wake up several times, crying. I only hope that Natasha hadn't woken up, because I don't want to appear weak in front of her. 

But I think that's exactly the reason she didn't say anything to me. 

We go over the plan in Tony's, Bruce's, and Steve's room, which is larger than mine and Nat's, over breakfast that Natasha and Sam had gotten when most everyone else was still sleeping. 

"It's simple, it's brilliant, it's genius," says Tony as he begins to spread out various spreadsheets and graphs out on the large dining room table. 

"Are you always this modest?" I quip. 

From beside me, Kyle snorts, and I punch his shoulder. Max is leaning against the side of our couch, tense in expectation for what's to come and what's already happened. 

"Okay," says Steve, ignoring me, "Now we're going to have to work together, no matter how much we hate each other," Here, he shoots covetous looks at Kyle, Loki, Tony, and me, "It's going to take teamwork. If we're going to do this, we're gonna need to cooperate."

"All right," says Tony, rubbing his hands together. "Let's do this." 

*

~Nobody's POV~

If one went to the National Archives on April 15th, nothing would stick out any different. Visitors came and went. Schoolchildren on field trips looked over the past records of the United States, some getting bored, some whining, and some remotely interesting. Old professors stood along the rooms, ready to give out their knowledge at the slightest incident. 

The area around the Rotunda of Freedom Charters at five o'clock is just as ordinay. Just some people milling about, looking at such documents as the Declaration of Independence and the Constitution. The Magna Carta is around the corner, also drawing a crowd. 

If you looked around the corner of the Rotunda, you might see a tall, muscly blond man in a plaid shirt walking along the edge of the room. His bright blue eyes glance around, resting once on each time they land on a security guard. His eyes rest once, twice, three times, four. His mouth moves seemingly silently, but the earpiece hidden in his straggly long hair can pick it up. 

Four. 

Five or so minutes later, two figures enter the rotunda just as the large blond man leaves- the three give no indication that they know each other. One is a black-haired man and green wearing sunglasses and a worn Led Zeppelin t-shirt with a tan fedora. He has a million dollar smile, which he showcases to several passing young women in high heel. 

The other figure is a young girl with her blond bangs coifed up and dark streaks of makeup to make her look much older than she actually is. She's wearing a graphic t-shirt with a plaid sweater around her small waist, with jean shorts. She rolls her eyes at the black-haired man's antics.

The two of them meander around the Rotunda, the girl's sharp eyes moving all over the archives with belittled interest, the man sauntering around, hands in his pockets. 

While the girl leans over to inspect one of the archives on the far right of the room, the man smirks and takes out his phone, swinging his keys around on his index fingers as he does so. 

It's five fifteen when the two of them are joined by two other figures, one of them a lanky boy with bright eyes, and the other a steely eyed redhead with a dominating attitude that nobody dares to cross. 

The boy walks around to the girl, and the woman walks around to the man. The redhead gives the very cocky man a very annoyed look, but at that point, two security guards walk by, looking at them suspiciously. Tossing his sunglasses to the girl (who rolls her eyes again), he grabs the woman's waist and kisses her.

The boy and the girl stare, both suppressing looks of shock. 

Meanwhile, as the young couple begins to make-out, the two security guards tap them on the shoulder and begin to speak to them sternly. Over the shoulder of the man, the redhead gives the boy and girl (who are still gaping in shock) a very pointed look before turning apologetic once again to the security guards. 

Immediately, the girl heads over to the Declaration of Independence. Covertly taking out her phone, she leans over, looking at the archive with interest, her sharp eyes darting around the extensive framing while the boy leans over her shoulder, watching her every move.

*

At exactly five twenty-one, in a black Escalade, two men sit inside the backseat of the car, surrounded by computers and wires. One of them, a burly man with a leather jacket and a low voice, begins to hook up several wires to a small, radio-like device. The other, a man with a very polished mustache and beginnings of a beard begins to frantically type a code into another, smaller laptop as if his life depended on it. 

In fact, it sort of does. 

*

A very muscular, blond man with an African American man beside him walks along the back wall of the Rotunda room. The blond is wearing a baseball cap and glances around the room nervously. The black man, with large glittering eyes, looks around the halls nonchalantly as if he does this everyday. 

Two minutes later, they are joined by the bond girl with green eyes. She holds her phone up and nods; the black man does the same back to her while the large blond glances around as if waiting to be caught at any second. 

While the black man stays behind at the hall, right at the entrance to the Rotunda of Freedom Charters, the blond man walks with the girl, towards the Magna Charter. 

Leaning lazily against the wall next to the ancient document is a very tall, lanky man with feathery black hair, a black cane, and piercing green eyes. When the girl glances up at him, she makes a face at him; he looks down at her coolly. 

The blond man nods at the man with the cane and then walks off, back towards the Rotunda. 

While the girl glares at the black-haired man, he rolls his eyes and moves towards the staircase on the far left of the room. The two of them back their way downstairs, towards the William G. McGowan Theater.

*

Paul Georgeman, one of the chief inspectors of the National Archives, gets an unusual call, by one of the former great associations of American Homeland protection. He is urged that today, the Declaration of Independence should be taken to the preservation room to make certain it is polished perfectly for the upcoming weekend gala. 

Shrugging, Georgeman hangs up the phone. 

Phil Coulson certainly is a strange man. 

*

The red-haired woman makes her way out of the Rotunda and down towards the Theater. She is joined by a stocky man with falcon-like eyes, and she glances at him, then nods. They join the girl and the man at the front of the theater, where the girl, grinning, hands the redhead her phone. She goes through the latest images, which highlight the surrounding frame of the Declaration of Independence. 

The redhead nods once, sends the photos to herself, and then she and the man with the falcon eyes leave the Theater, leaving the girl to slouch on one of the red velvet chairs next to the black-haired man with the green eyes. 

*

The tall boy walks around the Rotunda, his eyes stuck on the Declaration; the black-haired, Fedora-wearing man watches out for him at the entrance. As a kid, the boy attracts little attention.

At precisely five twenty-nine, the boy's eyes snap over to the Declaration. Before his eyes, it is lowered down into the vault. 

Rapidly, the boy sends a text to a contact labeled 'Stark'. He hits send, tucks his phone in his pocket, and then walks out of the Rotunda. He is met up with the black man with glittering eyes, near the corner. 

Moments later, the black-haired man follows them.

*

If you walked around the McGowan Theater, you would immediately see a tall black-haired man with green eyes trying to drag the blonde haired girl out of the room. She is protesting strongly. 

"No!" she exclaims. "I am supposed to be helping!"

He laughs dryly as he pulls her up the aisle and towards the entrance to the theater, "You agreed that you would only do this part, you foolish girl. That is more than we should have allowed."

"No, I am. Helping." she digs her heels into the floor, drawing looks from various visitors. 

He pulls her close to him, "No. You have helped enough, young lady. You see, this is exactly why Steve paired you with me, because I can actually control your-" 

"If you do not let me help," she hisses, "I am going to make a very big fuss, and seeing as you are the stubborn ass and I am the poor innocent girl, it's not going to work in your favor." 

He glares at her. "So you would compromise the entire mission for your sake, you manipulative little-"

"Is there any trouble over here?" asks a heavy-set, African American woman with a Southern accent and two pistols in her belt. "You, sweetie? Everything all right?" 

The girl and the man freeze. Then, the girl says in a convincing voice, "No, officer, everything's fine. He's just my hell-of-an-annoying...cousin. I'm sorry, everything's fine."

The woman gives the feather-haired man a very piercing look (which he ignores), "Make sure it stays like that. And the Archives will be closing shortly." 

Turning away, she walks over to help other guests leave the Theater. 

"Honestly," says the man in a low voice to the girl, "Cousin? Kitten, you could have come up with something better. Brother, or even fa-"

The girl grabs ahold of his hand and bends his wrist back painfully, then, when he winces, she snarls, "You are not my brother, and you are not my father. Am I clear?"

When he doesn't respond, the girl bares her teeth furiously so that she looks like some sort of lunatic animal. "Am I clear?"

"Explicitly," he says coolly.

Several guests watch curiously as the girl turns on her heel and stalks out of the Theater. The feather-haired man gives the witnesses a scowl before turning and walking up the red carpet after her. 

The guests shrug.

Some people certainly are strange.

*

The redhead and her companion meet up with the muscly blond and the African American man. She nods curtly hands the black man something, and the four of them make their way towards the back, towards the service entrance. The black man takes out an ID that says Paul Georgeman, swipes it, and then walks inside; his three companions follow him. 

With the precision of a diving hawk, the woman's companion shoots a guard with a tranquilizer gun; the guard goes down flat. Stepping over his body as if this isn't anything unusual, the woman walks down the corridor, looking perfectly as if she belongs. 

Her phone vibrates. It's from the same person the boy had sent the text to earlier. 

Ready.

When they reach a series of steal doors, the woman takes out her phone, types a message, and hits send. 

Now.

With a hiss, the steel doors open, letting in the redhead and her three companions into a room filled with bullet-proof glass. It's empty inside, ensured by the alarm code that had swept through the Archive worker's radios just moments before. 

The woman smiles. 

They're inside the preservation room. 

*

The girl and the man with the cane meet up with the boy and the Fedora-wearing man at the entrance to the Archives. The girl looks sullen, but she reluctantly leaves her companion's side and follows the boy and the other man out of the door. 

The feather-haired man waves his cane lazily and then heads back inside, towards the steel doors the redhead had just gone through. He is met with the plaid-shirted stringy haired blond man with blue eyes. 

Waving his hand at the lock, the first man smiles as it clicks open. Now they're inside too.

*

Two of the men pick of the framed Declaration of Independence, while the one with the falcon eyes watches around the room. The woman helps them out of the room, and then the four of them make their way back down the corridor.

They meet up with the two brothers, and the redhead nods at them, just as an alarm begins to sound. 

The man's cane begins to shift into a blue scepter, and as two men, two guards, come running around the corner, he presses the scepter into their chests; immediately, their eyes go blue and blank and they begin to walk back to their posts, ignoring the frantic radio calls coming from their belts. 

*

The girl, the boy, and the smirking young man walk towards the parking lot, where they pass a man with greying hair and calm eyes. He smiles at them before nodding them towards the parked Escalade. 

The three of them climb inside, and the calm man gets in and starts the engine. They're out of the Archives before the second wave of alarms goes off. 

*

The second Escalade is with the two men in the backseat is waiting for the six visitors in the Archives, at the back of the building, the service exit. As the woman and the blond haired man get the Declaration into the van, the other two climb inside the front seat, where the falcon-eyed man takes the wheel. 

Two minutes later, the two brothers, the one with the blue scepter come hurrying out of the alarm-sounding building. They climb into the Escalade just as Phil Coulson and Maria Hill come hurrying into the building. 

Thanks to their efforts, Coulson and Hill will be able to calm the Archives and intervene on any chase. 

In the meantime, the others have the Declaration of Independence. 

Just another normal day for them. 

Hope you enjoyed! I will try to get a double update in today, but I probably won't be able to finish it... Have a lovely day!

Love, Sierra