Fire and Smoke - Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Chapter 16

The helicopter swings slightly side to side as a particularly strong gust of wind crashes into it. I've never been the biggest fan of helicopters, and this journey has not made me any more fond of them. After having walked up to the helipad at the FBI Headquarters hours earlier, I've been sitting in the cramped machine, silently praying that I won't throw up on the other agent sitting opposite of me. The ride is finally coming to an end, though. Through the rain-streaked windows of the helicopter, I can see the dark, intimidating structure rise from the depths of the stormy waves below.

The helicopter swings harshly to the side again, and I close my eyes, gripping the seat under me with my good hand. The helicopter suddenly drops a few meters, and my stomach feels like it's going to turn on me any second now.

"Didn't know you would be scared of flying." I hear the agent opposite of me smirk, and I shoot her a glance that makes the smile on her face falter slightly.

"I'm trying to not throw up on you, if you must know, Agent Davies." I tell her and take a deep breath in.

Finally, I feel the helicopter thud down on solid ground. I don't waste any time in unbuckling myself and as soon as the door opens, I'm out. The blades of the helicopter come to a slow stop above me as a group of people approach us. I look up as a drop of water falls on my forehead and catch the huge metal opening above us close and the grey sky above is hidden from us, plunging us into a harsh, manufactured light.

"Agents." One of the people nods to us, Agent Davies having now joined me.

"Agent Smith." Agent Davies greets the man, shaking his hand. I don't follow suit, opting to just nod. I notice the group's curious eyes on me, lingering on my arm in its sling. I just my chin out slightly, not bothered by their looks.

"Thank you for joining us." Agent Smith thanks us, and we start moving away from the helicopter, deeper into the Raft. "We've made great progress on paper, thanks to Garcia here, and his team. We're close to finalizing the paperwork, but we've not made any progress with Maximoff, and we really need her to talk to have a stronger case."
"What do you mean?" I question Agent Smith, not particularly familiar with how indicting a suspect actually works, as I've never been too bothered with paperwork, opting to delegate all of that to some agent particularly keen to please me or our bosses.

"We'd love it if we could get her to incriminate herself, to indicate she knowingly held the people at Westview hostage, for example." Agent Smith scans his ID and a door slides open, allowing us to walk into a room with a big table in the middle, paperwork and computers scattered across it, amongst the occasional empty coffee cup.

"Please, have a seat." Agent Smith says, and the group start making themselves comfortable.

I sit down next to Agent Davies, and again, feel eyes on me as I try to make myself look unbothered by the pain in my ribs. I can now tell most of the group around the table are lawyers, they all have that tell-tale look to them. Apart from me, Agents Davies and Smith, there are two other FBI agents present.

"How long have you been working on this?" I ask the room, eyeing the amount of papers around me.

"Myself and a few other guys here have been on since Westview." The burly man I assume to be Garcia tells me. I meet his eyes and can tell I am being sized up. "Everyone else has been called up when the Maximoff Taskforce got a hint of her whereabouts. You are the last recruit."

"Right. I'm sorry, I'm slightly confused as to what you want me to contribute?"

The room exchanges looks, and I feel annoyed at not being up to speed.

"Oh. I assumed that was clear." Agent Smith leans back in his chair, looking at me over his glasses. "You're here to make her talk."

I look around the room, everyone's eyes on me. I don't let it show, but this makes me uncomfortable. I have interviewed victims and suspects alike, and I'm pretty good at getting people to talk, but I never shared any previous history with them, never having known them for more than ten minutes before stepping into the room.