Chapter 7

"We have to be getting close. We should be seeing something by now…" Jane said as she raced the vehicle down the road, Selvig in the passenger seat studying the screen of the device in his hand.

"Whatever it was I think we missed it," Erik informed her.

"Damn it!" Jane swore in aggravation and disappointment.

"Hey...innocent ears! That's twice today you've sworn. I'm your intern. You're supposed to be setting a good example," Darcy said, speaking with her mouth half full as she'd just taken a bite of her sandwich.

"I can't believe we haven't seen anything with those readings," Jane groused, ignoring Darcy's admonishment.

"It may not have lasted long…seconds, a few milliseconds. With this sort of thing it's often a matter of being in the right place at the right time. All the gadgets in the world can't replace good old fashioned luck," Erik informed her.

"Maybe I need to find a research partner that's Irish instead of Scandinavian. You know, luck of the Irish, four leaf clovers, the Blarney Stone," Jane quipped looking over at Erik with a teasing smile.

"Kissing the Blarney Stone is for eloquence, not luck," Selvig responded.

"Jane!" Darcy cried out from her seat in the back as she stared wide eyed, pointing at the windshield.

Startled, Jane turned her attention back to the road, her brain registering, to her horror, a dark haired figure in the distance, a pack on his back turning to face the oncoming vehicle. Selvig looked up from the device in his hand at Darcy's warning, spying him at the same moment as Jane, his eyes now wide with fright.

Jane slammed on the brakes, the vehicle's tires squealing against the pavement in protest of the sudden command to cease spinning. As if in defiance of that command, the vehicle continued to slide forward. Jane felt a sickening sensation in her midsection, as if she were about to vomit, sure that though the vehicle was slowing quite rapidly there was no way it could stop in time. Not wishing to witness the demise of the man in the road, though there was no way to avoid the fact that she would hear and feel the vehicle striking him, she squeezed her eyes tightly closed.

The vehicle came to a sudden, jarring stop, the immediate nature of its forward momentum ceasing sending all three occupants lurching forward in their seats, the contents of Darcy's sandwich spilling into her lap as the back end of the vehicle rose a foot off the ground for a moment before gravity pulled it down onto the pavement once again.

Jane slowly opened her eyes to see what the other two of the vehicle's occupants already were viewing with amazement. The man stood at the front end of the vehicle looking back at them, seemingly unscathed, both arms out and his hands against it as if he himself had brought it to a halt, though Jane was sure it was just an illusion of timing. Her mind addled, she must have simply overestimated how long it would take to come to a stop.

"Talk about luck," Jane said under her breath as Selvig popped open the passenger side door, exiting the vehicle.

Jane exited next, Darcy following, the sandwich contents in her lap falling onto the pavement as she tossed the bread onto them as well.

"This is why I hate eating in the car!"

Selvig stepped forward even with the front end of the vehicle as Loki removed his hands from it. Selvig's face expressed his astonishment as he noticed slight indentations in the metal where Loki's hands had rested. By this time Jane had moved up to stand at the other side of the vehicle's front end, across from Selvig, Loki between them. Darcy had joined Selvig, looking around him at Loki cautiously, noticing the indentations as well.

"Holy shit!" Darcy exclaimed.

"What the hell are you doing? You damn near got yourself killed! This is a road, not a hiking trail!" Selvig scolded.

"So it is. My apologies," Loki responded.

"Are you alright?" Jane asked as she glanced at Loki's hands which appeared uninjured, no sign of any swelling or bruising.

"Yes...I believe so," Loki answered.

"Car trouble?" Selvig asked, "We can call someone for you."

"I'm afraid I've lost it," Loki answered.

"How do you lose a vehicle?" asked Selvig.

Loki's mind that had momentarily been rattled by the swift approach of the vehicle began to recover, his thinking quickening once again.

"It was taken from me," Loki answered.

"You were carjacked?"

"My phone and money were stolen as well," Loki responded as Jane looked at him sympathetically before walking past him to Selvig, speaking to him quietly, her back to Loki.

"Obviously he's not from here. He was probably in shock, had no idea what he was doing."

"You're likely right," Selvig said to Jane before addressing Loki once again, "We'll give you a lift into town. You can file a police report."

"My side. This way," Jane said, walking past Loki once again back towards the driver's side door, Loki following.

Selvig and Darcy made their way back to the passenger side doors. Once inside, everyone seated, Jane turned the vehicle around in the road, heading back towards town as Darcy looked over at Loki.

"Seatbelt. Trust me. Jane's driving," Darcy told him, Loki locating and fastening it.

"I'm Jane Foster. This is Erik Selvig…..Darcy," Jane said Darcy's name as if an afterthought.

"Hello," Darcy said, "You owe me a sandwich."

"I'll get you another," Selvig said.

"Selvig? You're a warrior?" Loki asked, familiar with the meaning of the last syllable in the ancient language of Asgard and the lands of Midgard that once looked to Asgard and Odin for protection.

"Hardly. I'm a scientist. Selvig is my family name. I'm Scandinavian."

"Þakka þér fyrir góðvild þína. (Thank you for your kindness)," Loki said as Selvig turned to look at him in surprise to hear a language, or at least a variation of it, spoken in his homeland.

"Verði þér að góðu (You're welcome)," Selvig responded.

"Skilja dömurnar þetta tungumál? (Do the ladies understand this language?)" Loki asked, Darcy looking from Loki to Selvig in confusion.

"Nei, við ættum að tala ensku. Við viljum ekki vera dónaleg (No. We should speak english. We don't want to be rude)," Selvig answered.

"Yes, of course," Loki said, reverting back to English.

"Are you also-?" Selvig began to ask.

"No, though I'm familiar with that land, though it's been some time…"

"Where are you from?" Selvig asked.

"Where do you believe I'm from?" Loki asked, dodging the question.

"I had you pegged as British."

"You would be correct," Loki answered, having planned to agree to whatever origin Selvig assigned to him.

"You haven't told us your name," said Selvig.

"Lucas," Loki answered, using a name he had heard on one of his previous sojourns to Midgard.

"So what brings you to New Mexico?" Selvig inquired.

"My brother was recently murdered. His killers have not been identified. I hope to locate them."

"That's terrible! I'm so sorry," Jane said from the driver's seat.

His brother murdered and then carjacked and robbed...most definitely not someone with the 'luck of the Irish' Jane thought, recalling her and Erik's conversation.

"Why do you believe they're here?" Selvig asked.

"Are you acquainted with a man named Coulson? Phil Coulson? Are you familiar with the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement, and Logistics Division?" asked Loki.

"I don't know anyone by the name of Coulson. You're talking about S.H.I.E.L.D?" Selvig asked, the color draining from his face, his countenance one of unease, "Yes, I'm familiar...somewhat. I wish I wasn't. I know a couple of others that wish the same. One of them has disappeared. No one knows where he is or if he's still alive. He hasn't been seen or heard from since he had dealings with them. He was a scientist, an expert in gamma radiation. The man was a genius, had seven PhDs."

"You believe him to have been slain? They're known to be a band of murderers?" Loki asked.

"I don't know what to believe. They're not 'officially' in the murder business. For having such a long name it doesn't tell you a whole lot about what it is they actually do. I know they started off as a scientific arm of the military in World War II and it seems they're still involved with science to a degree. I've known a few scientists they've attempted to recruit that turned them down. They're supposed to be protecting us though no one's sure from what or how. I know you want justice for your brother but I'd keep my distance from that bunch. Hire a private investigator and let them go poking their nose around."

"Thank you for your counsel," Loki replied, spending the rest of the journey in silence, watching the landscape go by out of the window, Selvig glancing back at him from time to time.

"Well, here we are," Selvig said as they reached their base.

Jane parked the vehicle, Selvig opening the door and exiting, the others doing the same. Loki stepped out, examining his surroundings.

"Hey, you said you were going to get me another sandwich," Darcy said to Selvig.

"Here," Selvig said, pulling out his wallet and handing money to Darcy, "The police station isn't far from the sandwich shop. Lucas, go with Darcy. She'll show you where it is. If you're hungry she can get something for you."

Darcy gestured for Loki to accompany her, Loki following.

"What do you think?" Selvig asked Jane.

"He's a bit strange."

"I think there's more to his story. I'll take him out for a couple of drinks, loosen him up, see if he'll tell me more. I'm going to call Hank, see what he thinks. He knows more than I do. He'll need a place to stay. The weather's supposed to be nice. He can sleep on the roof….if you're ok with that."

"Yeah, fine. I'm not going to kick him out on the street, not after what he's been through," Jane replied.

"I'd like to keep him from getting in over his head. If S.H.I.E.L.D is involved that'd be easy to do."

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Sif traversed the corridor towards her chambers. She had just returned from her daily training session, her hair damp with perspiration. She had not been at her best, distracted not only by her grief but also worry over Loki's mission to Midgard. Now that her suspicions had been allayed, her feelings towards him had shifted to the opposite end of the spectrum. He was Thor's brother, a living link to him, and the heir to the throne. He should be protected at all costs.

Sif thought highly of Odin and respected his wisdom but she couldn't help but be concerned that Thor's death, along with the uncertainty and unanswered questions regarding it and that of Laufey, could have a detrimental effect on his judgement and reasoning.

Sif entered her chambers, the door closing behind her. She froze as she caught sight of the woman whom she recognized but whose identity was unknown to her who rose from the chaise dressed in the gown of a chambermaid.

"Lady Sif...I apologize for my trespass. I need to speak with you alone."

"Who are you?" Sif asked.

"Verda. I'm a friend of Loki….more than a friend."

"I suspected as much. Leave it to Loki to charm the chambermaid into granting him favors. What is it you want?" Sif asked, perturbed, feeling worn from her exertions and weighed down with sorrow at the loss of Thor, having little desire to converse with Loki's strumpet.

"I need your help. Loki is in danger."