30 Minutes after the Massacre
The cacophony surrounding him was a sea of noise crashing futily against his ironclad composure as he made his way towards his target, broken tarmac crunching underneath his black combat boots, avoiding the still glowing patches of road and the occasional burnt-out car wreck as he went.
Thankfully the bodies had already been removed from the scene, so he didn't need to step over corpses in order to reach his goal this time.
Not that he really had a problem with that (after all, he had been forced to do it often enough in his long career), but leaving roughly thirty bodies lying in the open, right in view of the army of journalists that were barely held at bay by the police cordons, was something that he'd rather do without.
As he got closer to the ruin that had only this morning been the headquarters of Titan Solutions, he was forced to steel himself as the smoking remains were still giving off waves of heat.
Even inside their indestructible new leather uniforms, the firemen clearing the rubble were still sweating bullets as they slowly made their way through the burnt out remains, dousing hotspots as they went.
He felt an odd sort of kinship with them, feeling as if he too just was walking around from one fire to the next, putting them out as quickly as he could, but every time he turned around he found that something else was set ablaze in the meantime.
Hopefully, if he could leverage this conversation the way he wanted to, then he could at least enforce some measure of control on the one responsible for quite a few of those fires (though his experiences with Tony Stark told him not to get his hopes up).
He had gotten close enough to his target now that he could see that the man was talking to someone on what appeared to be a holographic communicator. It took a few moments before he recognized the person on the other end, but then again, until just now he had thought she still had both eyes.
"Jeri, I promise I'll come by as soon as I can, all right? For now, please just stay put, don't go home. If the assassin was bold enough to attack you at work, then he'll definitely be bold enough to attack you in your home as well. At least at work, you'll be out in the open, making it more difficult for him to strike again. I'll send two body guards over right away, all right?"
Hogarth, her right eye held closed while that side of her face was splattered with blood, clearly didn't like to be ordered to stay out in the open after what appeared to be a failed attempt on her life (and damn it all, he already had enough on his place without worrying about assassinations as well), but she gave a curt nod nonetheless.
She opened her mouth to speak, but right at that moment some gravel crunched underneath his boot and he saw his target stiffen.
"I've got to go now, Jeri. Just trust me, okay? It'll be all right, I'm gonna make sure of it."
"Fine. Stay safe."
"You too."
And with that, the connection was cut, and his target stood up from the small pile of rubble he had been sitting on, turning around as he slipped the plate of glass in the pocket of the leather duster he wore, along with a dirtied pair of cargo pants.
Burning eyes analysed him in a flash, increasing in intensity just the slightest amount as recognition became clear in them.
'Interesting. How come that you know what I look like, Michael McCole?'
The CEO of Titan Solutions crossed his beefy arms in front of his massive chest (hiding much of his interesting ribcage from view as he did), glaring down at him with a look that clearly showed just how pissed off the behemoth truly was.
It was probably only the lack of any enemies around that kept the man from literally spitting fire right now, but just because he wasn't setting things alight at the moment didn't mean that he was any less enraged than he had been during the Massacre.
He was just keeping a lid on his anger.
For now.
"And what can I do for you? As you can see, I'm very busy at the moment." Came the rumbling bass of the Enhanced, his glowing eyes burning just a tad brighter as he spoke.
Pressing his lips together in a frim line, Nicholas Fury clasped his hands behind his back as he stared McCole straight in his eyes with his own, interest rising within him when he noticed that while the man clearly became a bit uncomfortable, he didn't look away from the Director's piercing gaze.
There weren't very many people in the world capable of that.
"Unfortunately, I think you'll have to make some time for me, Mr. McCole. This conversation has been coming for a long time now, but you've turned out to be a very difficult man to get a hold of."
"You can look up the visiting hours of Titan Solutions online. If you want to schedule a meeting with me personally, then I suggest making an appointment with Hogarth, Benowitz and Chao first."
"Yeah, see the thing about that is: I ain't interested in talking to Titan Solutions. Now I am definitely curious, as to how Hogarth suddenly looks decades younger, or why it is that she's suddenly short an eyeball. But currently, I ain't interested in talking to her either. Not right now, at least."
"Look, not to be rude, but at the moment I don't give a fuck as to what you're interested in-"
"-What I am interested in, is how a young man from New York goes from being a regular, unassuming baseline human, to one of the most dangerous beings on the planet in the span of a single year. I am especially interested in how said human, runs off to hunt criminals and arms-dealers in Africa, and then comes back to start a corporate war with Stark. And then, how that young man goes from giving the founder of S.H.I.E.L.D. her youth back, to setting an entire goddamned street on fire in the span of a day."
Seeing McCole stiffen in response to his little monologue made Fury want to smile in grim amusement, though his expression remained fixed in a practiced mask of determined neutrality. He made sure to not put too much pressure on the man, the destruction he had to wade through in order to speak to the Enhanced still fresh in his mind.
He had decided to confront McCole at this moment precisely because the man was probably at his most vulnerable right now, and as such was (hopefully) easier to lean on than would have otherwise been the case. The flipside of that, however, was that due to that vulnerability (metaphorically speaking: Fury had seen the footage, and any being capable of shrugging of a cannon-shot to the face is as pretty fucking far from vulnerable as you can feasibly get in his opinion) he was also more likely to instinctively lash out.
And as the world had discovered today, when McCole lashed out, things had a tendency to go up in flames around him.
Including people.
Coulson had argued vehemently against Fury confronting McCole personally because of this, but the Director had shut that down hard. Arriving in force had spooked McCole the last time, and the man had been able to slip from their radar until the moment they picked him up suddenly being the CEO of a company in New York City. If they were to approach now in full force, then he might not only decide to bolt again, but there was also every chance of the man choosing to fight instead.
Sending a single operative was the best course of action here, and considering the plan to have Black Widow infiltrate his forces like she had done with Stark was put on indefinite hold with the destruction of Titan Solutions, they had to send someone else in to talk with the enigma that was McCole face to face.
It had to be him. Someone else might get it wrong.
Continuing where he left off, Fury pinned McCole with a heavy glare.
"Now, I can ignore rumours of criminals running into a demon in Africa. I can even ignore a man who runs away from my people, crashing through a wall in the process: we'll just track him down again after all. What I can not ignore, however, is when that someone sets part of New York on fire, as he murders thirty people on national television!"
A growl leapt from McCole's throat as he uncrossed his arms, walking up to Fury in a few great strides, towering over the Director as he glared down at him, and it took quite a bit of Fury's not inconsiderate amount of willpower not to flinch from the heat coming off the giant, absentmindedly noting that the CEO's cargo pants began to lightly smoke, while the enormous duster remained just fine.
"You got some nerve coming in here and accusing me of murder even as we stand in the remains of my destroyed building Fury." McCole spat out with a snarl.
Fury raised a single eyebrow as he caught McCole's subtle eye-twitch when the man immediately realized his slip up, given that the Director of S.H.I.E.L.D. had yet to introduce himself.
'So, he's angry enough to make mistakes, but not angry enough to not realize when he does make them. I can work with that.'
"The video evidence doesn't lie, McCole. And there's a lot of evidence: there's mobile footage taken bystanders with their phones, to footage taken from the news choppers that have been circling around like goddamned vultures, ever since this whole mess began."
Honestly, there was far more evidence than Fury was pleased with, meaning that there was just no way this could be swept under the rug, unfortunately. This was like when the Hulk broke Harlem all over again. At least Thor's fight with the Destroyer in Puente Antigo (though that had turned out even more destructive than McCole's rampage) had been in a small town, with people too busy with running for their lives to stand and film the destruction, and without any news choppers to catch all the gory details from above.
All that was left after the fight was the clean-up (and hadn't that Destroyer-armour turned out to be just so very interesting to study?), making sure they caught whatever little footage there had been made, and to strongly impress upon the locals that what they had seen was a matter of national security and as such they were never to speak of it again if they didn't want to end up locked away in a government facility in the middle of nowhere for the remainder of their lives.
A lie, of course, considering that while S.H.I.E.L.D. did have a lot of power, even they couldn't just cart an entire village off to prison.
Not that the people of Puente Antigo were aware of that fact of course.
But this was New York. News choppers rivalled pigeons for the top spot of most annoying pest in the air, and the people were more likely to run towardsdanger than away from it, just in the hope of getting a glimpse of the action.
And judging by the multitude of videos, pictures and gif's that were popping up all around the web, there had been a lot of action to be had (the one where McCole took a deep breath and let out a fucking wall of fire was currently trending on just about every media platform there was, though because he was actively killing people in that shot, it kept being taken down, only to pop up again moments later on another site).
Meaning that Fury had to switch tactics, much like he had been forced to do when Stark decided to be his annoying self, announcing "I am Iron Man" to the world, as if Fury didn't already have enough headaches as it is. Just barging into private property and taking whatever they deemed necessary wouldn't work here, since that would definetely lead to a fight with an angered McCole.
No, patience was key here.
Of course, being a trained spy, it took only a few seconds for these thoughts to pass through Fury's mind (the fact that he had been thinking them from the moment he left his office in order to come down here certainly helped), so when McCole started talking again barely any time had passed.
"You say the footage doesn't lie. I agree. It will clearly show that what I did was in self-defence. That scum attacked us first, I simply retaliated." McCole growled angrily, the temperature around them skyrocketing when he mentioned the attackers, his tone suddenly becoming much darker, but Fury stood his ground.
He had faced worse things than a 7 foot tall giant with suspected hyper-intelligence, capable of breathing fire and throwing cars like they were toys.
Granted, he couldn't currently think of any, but he was sure that he had.
"You think that is going to matter in court? Hell, do you believe that you're going to end up in court at all? I currently have three different agencies out there, screaming their heads off that, not only should they have all the weapons the attackers used, but that they should impound every scrap of tech Titan Solutions has as well. I have at least three more, that believe that you are a danger to national security, and guess what?! They don't just want your tech, they want to cut you open too and take a look inside to see what makes you tick! I had to call the goddamned president in order to make him reconsider calling in the National Guard for fuck's sake!"
Growling at the threat to both his person and his tech, McCole balled his fist while the temperature surrounding the giant just kept on climbing in response to the man's emotions.
"They want my tech? They want me on a fucking slab? You know what I say to that, Fury? Let them fucking try."
The Director frowned at McCole's anger, and decided to dial it back a bit. Pushing the man's buttons was fine if it took him off guard, leaving Fury at least with something to work with, but if he pushed too hard then he would be back at square one, on top of McCole actively hating S.H.I.E.L.D. as well.
No, he had used the stick, riling the Enhanced up, making him angry at the world. Now it was time to extend the carrot, to impress upon the man just how much he needed S.H.I.E.L.D., to make him see just how useful an alliance could be.
Or at the very least, co-existence.
"They aren't going to try, because I'm not going to let them. The weapons used by the attackers have already been impounded by S.H.I.E.L.D. before they could get their hands on it, since it is literally our job to deal with these type of situations. And as for you and your company? Well, I'm sure something can be arranged…"
McCole scoffed as Fury trailed off, but the Director noticed that the temperature finally started to cool down again, while the behemoth took a step back as he began to pace back and forth, heedless of the glass that he crushed underneath his bare feet.
"So, that's how you're going to play it? S.H.I.E.L.D. swoops in to save the day, taking the scary weapons of the street, which just so happens to result in it all ending up in your clutches, while all I need to do is bow my head to your demands if I want to avoid conflict with just about every agency out there?" the giant said bitterly, and Fury realized that he needed to calm the man down before he started shutting him out.
"More or less, though I think you're being a bit unfair towards me and my people here McCole. We're not tyrants. We don't want to blackmail you into submission, 'till you're working for us, we want to protect you, so you're free to work with us. We can help you, McCole. You just need to let us."
For a few moments, McCole just kept on pacing, shooting Fury suspicious glances every once in a while. The Director remained stoic as he stood in the sweltering heat, his single eye unerringly following the man in front of him, even as it seemed that McCole might end up dismissing his offer after all.
Finally, it seemed as if the behemoth had come to a decision, letting out a deep sigh as a massive hand came up to pinch his nose, eyes closed in a deep frown.
"Alright. This is a quid pro quo thing then? 'I scratch your back, you scratch mine' sorta thing, huh? Fine. Say I accept: what's your price gonna be? What the hell do you want in return for making all this go away and for keeping any suits off my back? And don't try to pull any bullshit on me, like doing this from the good of your heart, or some shit like that."
Easily keeping his grin from showing, Fury allowed a casual expression to show on his face.
"Just a couple of things, along with some information. Nothing you aren't already marketing, really. What's it that you called those fancy suits you gave the police? Amber Armour, right? Now, that is something my people could use. Of course, there's that truck that you made your getaway in, when I had one of my men try and talk to you. All kinds of things like that. I'm sure we can work something out McCole."
"We'll see. I'll have Hogarth draw up a list of items that we're willing to sell to S.H.I.E.L.D. Don't bother getting your hopes up. We won't sell you any supersoldier-formula's." the Enhanced said, clearly still wary of any hidden traps, but unable to come up with a better alternative on the spot, not when they could both see the small army of goverment spooks standing on the ruined street, staring at the burnt-out husk of Titan Solutions with barely concealed greed.
"Fair enough. Like you said, we'll see." Fury replied easily.
"You mentioned information. What did you have in mind?"
"Like I said, nothing much. I can tell you're not exactly, chomping at the bit, to break open that treasure hoard of yours. So, we'll keep things nice and slow at first. Let's begin with this one: what's with the dinosaur?"
Now that was a line he never expected he'd ever have to say. When one of his Agents burst into his office with her phone in her hands and a bewildered expression on her face, he was ready to sternly remind her of what proper decorum was: not barging into your superior's office when he was preparing to go off and do some much needed damage control, for starters.
Then she showed him a trending video of a motherfucking T-Rex of all things running out of Titan Solutions and breathing motherfucking fire at one of the cars, setting it alight before the returning fire from the attackers wounded it, forcing it back inside.
He would never admit it, but for a few moments his face had mirrored his Agent's confused expression, before he managed to school it into a neutral one, already imagining the headache he would get once the public debate really started to get going, after people overcame their shock and fully comprehended the fact that dinosaurs were no longer extinct.
"Science experiment. Next question." McCole said gruffly, and it was only his great experience in the field that allowed Fury to keep his irritation from showing in his expression or tone of voice.
"You know what? Fine. I don't even want to deal with dinosaurs right now. Instead, let's talk about who the motherfuckers are, that thought shooting up your building was a good idea? Because, I couldn't help but notice, those are Wakandan weapons out there. What happened McCole? You pissed off a couple of people over there or something?"
Fury knew that McCole had been to Wakanda during the old regime, when it was still closed off to the world. He also knew that McCole had travelled there with Ulysses Klaue and JSOC-agent by the name of Erik Stevens, though he now went by the name of N'Jadaka, King of Wakanda. What Fury didn't know however, was what the hell had happened in the previously isolationist region that had left the ex-Navy Seal the King of the most advanced country in the world and it's prince T'Challa in some sort of shadow war against his cousin.
"Or something." The giant rumbled, eyes narrowed as he took in Fury's words.
The Director could tell that McCole wasn't buying it however; he clearly thought someone other than his former ally had been behind the attack. Well, Klaue was still unaccounted for, and he had shown in the past that he was capable of stealing from Wakanda… Something to look into, Fury thought to himself.
"Really? You goin' to keep quiet on all of this shit?" Fury said grimly, and this time a bit of his frustration leaked through in his voice, though McCole didn't seem to be at all bothered by it.
"It's my fight, Fury. I'll take care of it."
"All right. I could go on and on about how running off to get revenge is just a dumbass thing to do in general, but I can tell you're just gonna ignore me anyway. So let's save the both of us some time instead and just skip that whole part. Let's try something else then, something small. Like what the hell you did to Agent Carter."
"Agent Carter? She back in the field already? Damn, Fury, didn't think you'd stoop to recruiting little old ladies like that." McCole said with a wry grin, clearly trying to get a rise of out Fury.
Unfortunately for the behemoth, Fury had been dealing with Stark for years, meaning it would take a lot more than some teasing to get him flustered these days.
Though he had to admit, seeing a fucking dinosaur today had come pretty close.
"Well, normally I wouldn't. But then again, normally, most ninety year old ladies aren't fit enough to knock out one of my people with a single punch, when they try to keep her from entering a supposedly hidden safe house. You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you?"
It was clear that McCole was extremely reluctant with the idea of sharing even a single one of his mysterious secrets, but it was also clear that he disliked the idea of fighting for his tech (and possibly his life) against all of the agencies, that were currently being manhandled away from the scene by S.H.I.E.L.D. Agents, even more.
Of course, had the man not been somewhat frazzled from the intense battle he had just gone through, then his calmer mind might have come up with alternative solutions, but at the moment he was just distracted enough to be manipulated by Fury to the extent that he would consider a tentative alliance.
Which was the whole reason why the Director decided to approach the Enhanced right now, before he had a chance to recollect himself.
"Fine. My people have discovered a way to repair the human body on a scale that until now had been thought to be impossible. I used that in order to "repair" all the wear and tear of Mrs. Carter's aged body. Essentially, I "fixed" her old age by healing her to the healthiest she has ever been in her life." the giant told him reluctantly.
Fury immediately noticed that the only question McCole had answered so far had been one that Fury already had some information on, but at the moment there was no real way to call the CEO out on it. At least what he said confirmed Sharon Carter's report, though she had mentioned that McCole had used three serums, one of which had contained the cure for Alzheimer's. Fury suspected that both cures were in some way connected, probably to the same thing that had given some of the workers in Titan Solutions their legs back.
Now if only he could convince McCole to share that technology with S.H.I.E.L.D… the amount of Agents whose lives could be saved… But asking for that now would be pushing the man too hard, so it was best to back off for a bit, and once negations were fully underway, to slowly start pushing for it.
"Anything else?" McCole drawled in a sarcastic tone, and Fury couldn't quite stop himself from giving the man a wry grin.
"For now. We'll keep in contact with you, Mr. McCole. You don't have to worry about your people or your tech for the moment. S.H.I.E.L.D. will take care of it."
"And doesn't that just give me the fuzzies." McCole growled as Fury turned around, walking away as he stuffed his hands inside his coat, his own tone easily matching the giant's sarcasm (something he mastered after years of dealing with Tony Stark).
"You're very welcome. We're just happy to help. By the way, have you thought of a name yet?"
"A name? I already got one, what the hell do I need another name for?"
Half-turning in order to peer at the man from over his shoulder, Fury's smirk widened just the slightest amount.
"I don't mean your real name, McCole. I meant your codename. What do you want people to start calling you?"
"I'm telling you, I don't need another name. I ain't a goddamned superhero, I ain't got some secret identity I need to keep safe or a stupid mask on my face, I'm just me." The CEO of Titan Solutions growled out in annoyance, causing Fury to shake his head in amusement.
"Not a superhero? Neither was Ivan Vanko, but the news ended up calling him Whiplash all the same. Same goes for Blonsky, everyone started calling him the Abomination. And I think that the name Iron Man is more famous than the name Tony Stark at the moment. But, what are they going to end up calling you? You better come up with something, McCole, because I guarantee you that if you don't, they will."
With that last piece of advice said, Fury started walking away again, glad to finally get out of the sweltering heat of the ruined building. He had accomplished his goals here since he had suspected from the beginning that he wouldn't be able to get McCole to trust him fully, which is why he hadn't pushed for cooperation all that much. A simple exchange of material and information would do. For now.
So on to the next fire it was.
Before he had fully exited the building though, McCole's rumbling bass called out to him, halting him in his tracks.
"Hyperion!"
Turning around with a questioning look, he saw the giant man cross his arms in front of his chest again, giving an impressive scowl as his eyes burned like embers.
"They will call me Hyperion."
Giving a nod and a small smirk, Fury turned back towards his ride, before McCole's voice once more halted him in his tracks.
"Fury! Be careful of who you trust. There's monsters hiding in the shadows, you know. They're really persistent fuckers too: every time you behead them, they just come back twice as bad as before."
Trying his best to ignore the cold chill that shot up his spine at those ominous words, Fury simply gave a quick nod, showing he had understood the man's cryptic message, before he continued walking towards the black SUV that was already waiting for him. It wasn't the first time he had received a dire warning (in his line of business they were about as common as talks about the weather or something), but if McCole had meant what Fury suspected he did...
As his mind kept re-examining what the Enhanced told him, he idly noted all the Agents that were running around, securing the futuristic weaponry in large cases, emblazoned with the proud eagle of S.H.I.E.L.D. on their lids, suits from the CIA, NSA and FBI looking on in helpless fury as the advanced tech was snatched out from under their noses.
As he got inside the SUV, giving directions as he sat down in the backseat, Fury's mind kept on rolling McCole's words over in his head, before he decided to shelve it for now. There was hardly anything he could enact at the moment: he'd need to talk to a couple of people before he even begin formulating a plan of action, a recently reinstated top-Agent coming to mind. Instead, he thought about the codename the CEO had given him, unknowingly giving a small grin of approval as he glanced back at the burnt out building.
'The Titan of Light and Fire, huh? Dramatic enough, I suppose. Well then, let's see what you're going to do in retaliation, McCole. Who do you think is responsible for the attack? I got some ideas, especially after you gave me yor message, but I'm curious who you're going to go after. No way in hell a guy with a name like Hyperion is going to let this attack go unanswered.''
Twenty minutes after the Massacre
Pain lancing through her skull with every heartbeat, Jeri Hogarth, legal advisor to the famous Titan Solutions company, grasped at her phone with trembling hands, her fingers, slick with blood, sliding over the smooth glass every time she tried using the damned thing.
Finally, after what felt like a lifetime, she managed to hit the call button, sliding down the marred wall of her office she had been leaning against until she was sitting on the floor, heedless of the way her clothes rumpled around her as she stared at the corpse on the other side of the room.
It took six rings before the holographic screen lit up, and the exhausted face of Michael McCole, the CEO of Titan Solutions stared back at her. She saw his burning eyes widen in confusion when he took in her blood-splattered appearance, his mouth falling open in shock.
Jeri herself felt dull surprise as well, though it was probably the shock she was currently in that kept her from currently experiencing any intenser emotions. Her eye flitting to the corpse that was still bleeding out on her floor, Jeri decided that she was rather grateful for that.
"Jeri?! Fucking hell, Jeri what happened?!"
Focusing back on the holographic screen in her hand, the lawyer tried to put her scrambled thoughts in order, deciding to ignore Michael's burning surroundings for the moment.
"An assassin… I was just looking over the reports you sent me on my computer, when I hear my window open behind me… and I turn around and all I see is this flash of steel… his sword bounced off my neck, Michael, it just bounced straight off…" Jeri tried to explain, but her mind felt like it was stuffed with wool and she noticed with a small part of irritation that her hands were still shaking.
Looking at them with a frown, the lawyer almost missed Michael's hurried questions, focusing back on his words with a monumental amount of effort.
"Jeri, please! I need you to tell me what happened, beginning to end, all right? Walk me through it Jeri, you can do it."
Taking a deep breath, Jeri tried to think back to the events that had happened mere minutes ago, resolutely keeping her eye averted from the cooling corpse across from her.
Honestly, it had felt just like any other day for her: there was nothing about it that tipped Jeri Hogarth off to the fact that someone would be trying to cut her head off today. No, for now, all she was doing was sitting behind her desk, as usual, working her way through a dozen emails, as usual, and bemoaning the fact that, despite the fact that she was working in one of the most respected law firms in New York City, the machine on her floor still poured coffee that tasted like dirt, as usual.
Of course, what happened next was as far from the usual as you could possibly get, and considering the man she worked for, that was saying quite a lot.
She was just taking a sip from the godawful coffee (just because it tasted like dirt didn't mean that she wouldn't drink it. She had grown up with far worse, after all) when she heard a soft noise behind her, like an echo of a whisper almost.
Placing her mug on her desk as she half-turned in her seat, all that Jeri saw were a flutter of darkened cloth and the shine of steel descending towards her neck.
Now, Jeri Hogarth was a self-made woman, someone who had crawled and clawed her way from the bottom all the way to the top, fighting each and every day to cast off her poor beginnings in her quest for power and control.
As such, she was a person who despised procrastinating.
So, when the madman she worked for told her that he had a method that made her completely invulnerable to conventional weaponry, she had pressed him in order to perform the procedure on her that very same day.
She had declined his combat augmentation on the grounds that she didn't really see much use for it (and she didn't quite like the idea of her eyes burning like Michael's did), though she acquiesced to the intelligence enhancer, since eidetic memory sounded like a godsend in her line of work.
But being protected from all harm, even car crashes if what Michael promised her was true? Her entire career, her entire life had been focused on acquiring power as a means of protecting herself, and here this man could achieve something far more tangible in a day?
All of it meant that when the sharpened edge of the steel blade met the soft skin of her neck, the blade lost.
The sword bouncing off her with a dull clanging sound, both Jeri and her masked attacker were frozen for just a second, her scared eyes meeting his surprised ones.
Of course, this couldn't last, his experience snapping him from his shock, while Jeri's Brain Booster made her fast enough on the uptake to jump away from the assassin as he swung again.
The blade barely missed her, cutting through her jacket as the wide swing ended up burying the sword deep into her desk. Breathing heavily, time seemed to slow down around her as she saw her attacker rip the blade from her desk with an ease that showcased an enormous amount of hidden strength.
For all that she was now superhumanly durable and strong, she wasn't a fighter, other than the pepperspray she kept in her bag. Unfortunately, Jeri didn't think that a can of mace would be sufficient in warding off what appeared to be one of those honest to God ninjas that Michael had been warning her about, and she was even less confident in her ability to overpower the assassin.
So she ran away instead.
Or tried to, at least.
She felt something slam into her back with enough force to imbalance her mid-run, forcing her to the ground, though whatever had smashed into her gave a wheezing grunt as they collided.
Looking over her shoulder, Jeri saw that the ninja had tackled her to the ground, but judging by the way his hand briefly flew to his shoulder, he had broken something when they smashed into each other.
Not surprising, considering that he might as well have run into a brick wall.
Still, he was already on his feet, while she had just worked herself to her knees, and once again the blade came down on her exposed neck. She could hear the assassin give an angered growl as his sword once more failed to even scratch her, before she managed to straighten herself somewhat.
Just in time to see him perform a roundhouse kick that wouldn't be out of place in one of those kung-fu movies her brothers used to watch all the time. The moccasin-clad foot descended towards her face at breakneck speeds and-
"Aargghh!"
-broke with a wet crunching sound on her chin, the assassin taken off guard enough that he let out a strangled scream of pain, jumping away from her as he threw a brace of knives at her, all of them cutting through her clothing only to bounce off her skin.
Working herself to her feet, Jeri took a few deep, gulping breaths as she stared at her assailant across the room, who was carefully keeping his weight off of his broken foot, though his eyes stared unwaveringly into her own.
Feeling a bit more self-assured, Jeri squared up, her fists raised in front of her as she stared the trained killer down. Now, the lawyer might not have been a fighter, but she had grown up with three older brothers, and was now faced with someone who literally couldn't even scratch her.
'Right. I can do this. All I need to do is land one punch, or even just give him a really hard push, and then I can make my way out of here. Michael said these ninja-wannabe's are part of some sort of hidden shadow organization, so if I go out in the open, he'll probably be forced to back off. Now, I'll advance towards his right side, since that side is probably weaker because of his broken foot, and then I'll-'
Jeri's thoughts were halted in their tracks by the sound of the door to her office opening, and as she watched, she could see the assassin's eyes move towards something ('no, someone') behind her, one of his hands already dashing inside the loose vest he wore.
"Jeri, what's going on-"
Turning around with a horrified expression, Jeri tried to run towards Pam, a warning already tearing from her throat, but she knew she was too late when she saw several blades fly past her head, two of them striking her girlfriend in the chest, a third one slamming into the blonde's abdomen.
She was dead before she even hit the ground.
Skidding to a halt on her knees next to her downed lover, Jeri tried to do whatever she could for the woman, even though intellectually she knew that Pam was already gone.
Blinking tears from her eyes, the lawyer completely forgot about her assailant as she tried to put pressure on Pam's wounds, the young woman's dress already being covered in an ever-expanding pool of blood.
And then her would-be murderer made his presence known once again by placing a plastic bag over her head.
While her skin might be indestructible, her insides were decidedly not, meaning that while she could withstand bullet-impacts and sword slashes just fine, she still needed to breathe.
How her attacker had figured it out so soon she didn't know, but at the moment her mind was far too overcome with panic and grief to really bother thinking about it, so instead she simply surged to her feet, trying to head-butt the man trying to choke her.
The ninja wasn't caught off guard however, leaning backwards every time Jeri tried to strike at him with her head or with her elbows, easily staying out of her reach while he kept the pressure on the bag.
One of Jeri's hands came up to tear at the thick plastic, but her fingers kept scrabbling across the smooth surface, and before she could find any proper grip, she could feel the assassin giving a harsh tug on the bag, unbalancing her and nearly forcing her off her feet.
So Jeri did the next best thing she could think of through the haze of panic that strangled her advanced mind.
She began running backwards.
She could tell that the assassin was taken off guard, and trying to keep up with her desperate charge, but the suddenness of her attack combined with his broken foot meant that she managed to crash into him.
She kept on running.
The assassin clearly caught on to what she attempted to do, based on his increased struggles, but it turned out to be futile, in between the rather modest size of Jeri's office, the speed of her charge and her enhanced strength.
In the span of mere moments, she had slammed into the wall of her office with a massive cracking sound, the assassin caught between unforgiving concrete and the even more durable body of Jeri Hogarth. As she felt the man's grip on the bag lessen, her hands came up, ripping it off her head as she took in several long, deep gulps of air.
It turned out to be just enough time for the assassin to regain his senses, because as she whirled around with her elbow coming up to strike at him, he had already moved to the side, letting Jeri's elbow slam into the concrete next to his battered torso, shattering the stone with the force of her attack.
Jeri tried to turn her failed elbow-strike into a wild hay-maker, certain that with how close the two of them were standing now (almost chest to chest, in fact) she would inevitably end up hitting some part of the battered assassin, which would be enough to force him to the ground and allow her to splatter his brains across her carpet.
However, their close range turned against her when the ninja still proved to be the better fighter of the two when a blade slipped into his hand, which came up in a flash right as she was about to take a swing, a white-hot burning pain suddenly lancing through her skull.
Jeri let out a pained scream as she took a few stumbling steps back, one hand clutching her right eye, a small knife showing underneath her clenched fingers. Even through the inferno of pain she felt roaring inside her brain, her other eye caught the interest and understanding that showed in the assassin's gaze, a second blade falling in his hands as he leaned forwards.
There was a flash of light as the sun struck the metal of the blade shooting towards her face-
'clang!'
-before her left hand closed around the weapon, stopping the ninja dead in his tracks, the straining metal of his blade scraping against her skin without any effect. Even as the man tried to recover, there was a disgusting wet tearing sound, before Jeri's right hand came up, clutching the handle of the first blade, the metal covered in gore, which she buried in her assailant's left shoulder with a hate-filled snarl.
The ninja gave a surprised grunt as he was jerked back a bit from the strength of Jeri's sudden attack, before the one-eyed lawyer suddenly let go of the other blade, her fist shooting forwards and crashing straight into the assassin's chest, throwing him back several feet until he crashed against her windows, cracking them and falling to the ground with a pained grunt.
But Jeri wasn't paying attention to the man anymore, sinking to her knees while both hands were clasped over the mangled ruin that used to be her right eye, a pained screamed tearing from the usually stoic woman's throat.
Slowly, oh so very slowly, Jeri removed her bloodied hands from the gaping wound, the regeneration factor the Amber Armor gave her making itself known as the unbearable pain lessened somewhat, to the point that the woman could finally string together a coherent thought.
Grasping the crumbling concrete next to her, Jeri pulled herself to her feet, wary of another attack, before she managed to wipe away the tears in her remaining eye (unknowingly smearing her face even further with blood) and saw that the assassin had left, a thin trail of blood leading from underneath the cracked window to the one that stood open, where he had entered her office in the first place.
With adrenaline still roaring through her veins, Jeri gave a choked sob, fumbling in her pocket for the phone that Michael had given her, trying her best to not look at the cooling corpse of her girlfriend that was lying across the room from her.
She needed to call Michael.
He would know what to do.
He would know who had to die.
After haltingly telling Michael what had happened, she saw him frown in concern, even as her hearing picked up hurried footsteps coming from the hallway. Seemed like someone finally decided to investigate the strange noises that had come from her office.
"Jeri, I promise I'll come by as soon as I can, all right? For now, please just stay put, don't go home. If the assassin was bold enough to attack you at work, then he'll definitely be bold enough to attack you in your home as well. At least at work, you'll be out in the open, making it more difficult for him to strike again. I'll send two body guards over right away, all right?"
Jeri, her right eye held closed while that side of her face was splattered with blood, looked at the concerned face of Michael projected from her phone, and felt unease twist inside her gut.
She didn't like the idea of remaining out here in the open, surrounded by innocents (her eyes remained resolutely fixed on the screen in her lap) when there were clearly fucking ninja out there trying to kill her. Still, what Michael had said made some sense at least, and she couldn't deny that the idea of having two people from his security watching over her gave her a small sense of comfort, so she gave a curt nod nonetheless.
She opened her mouth to speak, but right at that moment she saw Michael stiffen, and his eyes flit to the side, as if he was caught off guard by something off screen.
"I've got to go now, Jeri. Just trust me, okay? It'll be all right, I'm gonna make sure of it."
"Fine. Stay safe."
"You too."
With that the connection went silent, and with a shaky sigh she let the bloodied plate of glass slip from her trembling fingers, tilting her head back as she just stared at the ceiling above her.
She knew that she should be on her feet, trying to do damage control after Michael had told her what had happened on his end. His fight had been very public and was likely being televised even now, with everyone desperate for their five minutes of fame appearing on screen in order to share their thoughts on what had happened as so called "experts", just like it had been when those two gamma-monsters had fought in Harlem.
But she couldn't move. She just remained sitting in place, the back of her head resting against the cool concrete of her ruined office wall, a trail of blood slowly dripping from the gaping wound down her cheek like a twisted mirror of the tear tracks her other eye were making, all the while simply staring at her ceiling.
She remained in that position, even as she heard a horrified gasp coming from her office door.
She remained in that position, even as the security from her company burst into the office, looking around bewildered as they took in the damage and one of them gagging when they saw the body of Pam lying on the floor.
She remained in that position, even when Michael's guys came in, both of them faintly smelling of smoke and not saying a word, one going over to stand in front of the window, the other walking over to stand next to her seated from.
She remained in that position, and all she could think about was one thing, repeating itself over and over and over again in her mind, like a broken record as it kept looping in on itself.
'I'm going to kill the Hand.'
Four hours after the Massacre
"New York, and indeed, the world, was shocked today, as the city is being struck by waves of violence and crime. Gangs with advanced weaponry have been reported all over the city, and in one place in particular, tragedy occurred. At roughly three pm today, a column of cars parked in front of the Titan Solutions building, and opened fire, doing massive amounts of damage. There is currently no information available on what caused such a violent attack, but the world has seen how it was ended."
Sitting on the side of a bed in a non-descript motel a few hours outside New York, Jessica Jones felt oddly hollow as she stared at the old TV in their room, where some news lady she didn't bother to remember the name of was staring in the camera with a carefully practised expression of concern.
After the woman finished her little intro, the scene switched to something she had re-watched a dozen times today already. It was footage taken from a news chopper, and it showed a line of cars opening fire on the workshop, each shot taking out worryingly large gaps of decennia old brick and mortar.
On a banner in the bottom of the screen, the words 'Caution: the following images are graphic and may be found disturbing. Viewer discretion is advised.' kept on rolling past.
For once in her life, Jessica didn't scoff at the message, as she looked on how a man wielding what appeared to be a fucking cannon aimed his monstrosity at the front of the building, and with a blinding shot, punched an enormous hole straight through it.
And things just kept on getting worse from there, as little Susan busted down the door of the warehouse in her charge at the nearest car, proudly showing off both her existence and ability to breath fire to the entire world as she managed to set the vehicle alight.
Despite the shock that most of the attackers felt at being suddenly confronted with a fire breathing dinosaur, some of them proved to be quick on the uptake, taking aim at the little lizard that Jessica had secretly grown quite fond of during the dino's short existence.
A few shots later (and Jessica could almost swear that she heard Susan's pained cries over the television) and the bleeding dinosaur ran back inside, while the attackers kept on tearing at the wall of the workshop, punching enormous holes in it.
From what little she could tell from the angle the news chopper was at, the people still inside the now burning building were running around and trying to evacuate, rather than attack, even though it was likely to end in their favour due to their powers.
But outside of those few people that were ex-army or had worked in security, most of the people in there were just civilians, and like all civilians, they panicked when they suddenly found themselves under heavy artillery fire out of nowhere.
One of Michael's people chose to buy his colleagues time, and burst through the weakened wall like a human sized wrecking ball, running towards one of the cars, shouldering an attacker out of the way with enough force to send the man flying several feet.
Shots kept impacting him, tearing away at his shirt and jeans, but the man (and to her hidden shame, she just couldn't remember his name) soldiered his way through them with a grimace and when he finally got close enough to one of the cars, punched straight through the hood of the vehicle, his fist disappearing into its engine block.
For a moment nothing happened, before the front of the car exploded, throwing everyone around it to the ground, including the man that had worked for Michael. Being closer to the blast and weakened from the earlier shots, the man was slower than the attackers in working himself to his feet.
Before he could fully get up, one of the enemies' grunts wielding a heavy rifle ran up to him, placed the barrel of his weapon almost flush against his head, and pulled the trigger.
Again and again and again and again, even as he was joined by three of his colleagues, the man's head disappearing in a shower of gunfire and broken tarmac.
Even before the dust settled, Jessica knew that the man was dead, and without even thinking about it, she crushed the beer can in her hands into a flattened disk, though her expression hardly even changed.
Still, cooler heads prevailed, since the footage was high enough that it managed to capture people escaping through the back of the warehouse, a man she thought was Burstein clearly directing people outside, based on his wide and frantic gestures.
And then things got even worse.
Michael arrived.
The way the footage was shot meant that there was no view on the opposite side of street where the Titan Solutions warehouse had stood, since that had been directly underneath the helicopter. Meaning that out of nowhere, a burning blur descended from the sky, suddenly crashing into one of the cars in the column and crushing it underneath its weight.
As the fire-wreathed being straightened up from its crouch, Jessica got her first good look at Michael McCole when the man was pushed to beyond his limits, his burning eyes managing to be intimidating even through the footage taken from several stories up, and shown through a dingy TV.
What happened next could only be called a slaughter.
Michael moved fast enough at points that the camera had trouble keeping up with him, and each strike was lethal, picking up and wielding cars as if they were made of paper, even breathing a fucking inferno at his enemies.
All the while his suit kept burning up around him, making it appear at times as if he was made from flames, and shrugging off weapons that had been shown to be capable of demolishing an entire fucking building.
As she kept on watching with a flat stare while Michael kept burning people alive around him, standing in a pool of lava and with a blinding white-hot glow coming from his body, uttering a roar that she felt even through the TV, she could hear someone walk up to her, though her eyes remained fixed on the screen.
Right until someone used the remote to shut it off. Glancing to her side, she saw Sterns standing next to her, a worried look on his misshapen face as he looked at her.
"Jessica, are you alright?"
"I'm fine." She said quickly.
Too quickly.
Trying (and failing) to ignore Sterns' knowing look, she reached out with her hand, stubbornly keeping it outstretched as she stared at the now blank TV until she heard a sigh coming from the scientist, and felt the weight of the remote being placed in her hand.
"It's going to be all right, Jess. We took a hit, yes that much is true. We lost some of our people, we lost our building, we even lost some of our secrets, now that Susan is known to the world. But we can come back from this. We can fix this Jessica."
Jessica couldn't help but give out a harsh bark of laughter, even as she clicked the TV back on, though she was secretly thankful that the footage of Michael's rampage had been replaced with the annoying news lady from before, who was now talking to a team of "experts" on what this new development meant for the world and all that kind of pretentious shit.
As if any of them knew what it was like to live with powers in a world that was just so… fragile.
"What's there to fix? The fact that some of our people are dead? The fact that our boss is an unstoppable murderer? Or maybe the fact that his little killing spree is being shown on national television?"
Shooting Sterns a heavy glare as she reached over for another beer can, she angrily shook her head.
"There's nothing to fix, Sterns. We're fucked. We're all fucked."
Taking a gulp of the cheap beer, Jessica tried to ignore the weight that settled on the bed next to her, stubbornly staring ahead as she and Sterns sat side by side. The mutated scientist remained silent for a few moments, before she saw him looking at her from the corner of her eye, a surprisingly gentle look on his face.
In all the time that she had known him, the word that would best describe the mad scientist would be "excitable". He always had this gleam in his eye when he looked at the world around him, a massive grin on his face whenever he was working on some advance piece of technology decades ahead of its time.
So the man having a gentle look on his face took her off guard for a moment, something which she would later end up blaming her reluctant openness on.
"Jessica. What's going on? What happened was bad, yes, really bad. But you're one of the toughest people I know, and that's coming from the guy whose best friend once asked him to lace his bones with an indestructible metal."
Despite herself, a small grin came to Jessica's face as she heard the exasperation in Sterns' voice, looking down at the can in her lap as she fiddled with its lid.
"You really aren't ever going to let that go, aren't you?"
"Nope. Never. Someone needs to keep that oaf in line sometimes." Sterns said with a small laugh in his voice, before the sombre mood from before returned as he trailed off.
"So, what is it? It's alright to talk about it, you know? I know that bottling things up might seem preferable, but trust me when I say that in the long run, sharing how you feel really does help. And yes, hearing myself speak does make me realize how incredibly corny that sounds." Sterns idly told her, prompting another bleak smile from her.
"It is very corny, yes."
"Not untrue though."
For a few moments, silence fell between them as Sterns was willing to wait for her to start talking if she wanted to. She debated it for a few moments, knowing that the scientist wouldn't hold it against her if she decided not to take him up his offer, but when she caught yet another rerun from the massacre on the TV from the corner of her eyes, the dam broke.
"It's just that… I know he's stronger than me. Have ever since I began working for him. I could feel his strength when we arm-wrestled, so it's not a surprise or something. But that much stronger… I'm pretty sure I could lift, like, a car above my head, but to throw it around like it was a fucking toy or something… to crush someone with it…"
"Is that what is bothering you? The difference in strength between you?"
"You know what, sure, let's go with that."
"All right."
And with that, they fell silent again, the only noise in the room the TV across from them. At any moment, Jessica expected the scientist to start prodding her again, to call her out on her obvious lie, but he just remained quiet next to her, not pushing her at all.
Which just made it all the harder for Jessica to keep quiet as well.
Finally she gave out a sigh as she cursed the well-meaning scientist in her mind, before turning slightly on the bed in order to face him a bit better, her hands still playing around with the can she held in her lap.
"I mean, it's not that. It's… It's that I thought I knew him, you know? We laughed together, we drank together, we joked together and then just… then suddenly, one day he shows up on the news, killing people!"
Giving an understanding nod, Sterns clasped his hands together as he looked at her with earnest eyes.
"But you knew that he was planning on killing the Hand and Hydra didn't you? He told all of us about the dangers of those organizations, but he really only talked about possible countermeasures with me, Burstein, a few people in Security, and you."
"Well, yeah, but that was just… theoretical. I've never seen him actually kill someone before. Hell, I've never seen anyone kill anyone before!"
"I see. I'm sorry to say this Jessica, but that's just the reality of the situation. It sounds harsh, I know, but it is how it is. Michael is upsetting the current status quo something fierce, pushing boundaries everywhere he goes. It was simply inevitable that someone ended up pushing back."
"I understand that. A bit, I guess. Doesn't change the fact that the man I work for is now on every goddamned news station and internet page, setting people on fire with his bare hands and just generally looking like a demon from hell or something."
"Yes. That does complicate things, I agree."
For a moment neither one talked, both just going over the events of the day in the privacy of their mind, before Jessica looked at the sombre scientist sitting next to her.
"Hey, Sam?"
"Yes?"
"You know Michael the longest. Have you ever seen him k-… do that before?"
Sterns looked extremely uncomfortable at her sudden question and for a moment Jessica thought the scientist would refuse to answer, before the eggheaded man gave out a tired sigh.
"Yes. I have seen him kill before. Not on this scale, however."
The answer made her feel… made her feel…. Made her feel what, exactly? Betrayed? Sad? Disappointed? Hell if she knew, but she was fairly certain that whatever emotions she was currently feeling, she didn't like a single one of them.
"What happened?"
The scientist gave a grimace of discomfort, but he answered her question nonetheless.
"We were in South-Africa, on our way to Johannesburg in Oliver. We were a few hours outside the city, when a couple of cars jumped out of the underbrush on the sides of the road. There were six of them, and they boxed us in, waving machine guns at us as they screamed to stop the truck. Michael told me to do as they said, so I did and then I hid underneath the dashboard. I can't tell you exactly what happened next, but there was a lot of screaming, people firing guns, and the sound of several car collisions. When everything turned quiet, I got out of the cabin and he… he had killed most of them, set a part of the road on fire."
Giving a slow nod at the scientist's story, Jessica turned back to the TV again, though she hardly registered what it was showing as she kept going over Sterns' words inside her mind.
"Why?"
"Why what?"
It was only when she heard Sterns' question that she realized that she had been the one to speak first, and gripping her beer a bit tighter, she forged on.
"Why does he react like that? I get that he was trying to save people, I do. I understand that when you're faced with people like that, it's either them or you. But that… what Michael did… there's just so much… rage…"
Sterns seemed to fumble for an answer, before his shoulders slumped somewhat as he looked at her with a tired, bleak little smile.
"Tell me Jessica. Do you know what Michael is afraid of the most?"
For a moment, the very idea that the giant of a man, the same man who had thrown around cars like they were made of cardboard, was afraid of anything at all was so absurd that she nearly let out a laugh, despite the gloomy mood that hang over the cramped room.
But she could tell that the scientist was completely serious, so she reigned in her incredulous response and tried to think of the answer. When nothing came to her, she just shrugged as she looked at Sterns with a raised eyebrow.
"I dunno. What's he afraid of?"
"Death."
"…"
"Death?"
"Yes."
"You're shitting me."
"No, I'm completely serious."
"Really? Death?"
Giving a nod at her incredulous look, Sterns elaborated.
"He hasn't told me so, and he won't ever admit it, but Michael's absolutely terrified at the thought of dying. I've been around him for a year Jessica, and his every waking moment is spent trying to find ways to become more powerful."
"Doesn't that just make him greedy though?"
"I thought so too at first. But then I thought at how he was acquiring that power. He wasn't going around gathering people under his banner, or trying to make allies. He only started up Titan Solutions after he gained his current powers. No, every move he made, was to enhance himself. To make himself safer."
"I don't get it."
"I always joke about the time he asked me to lace his bones with Vibranium, but really think about it Jessica. Think about why someone would be so desperate, that he's willing to undergo massive amounts of experimental and invasive surgery, in order to have an indestructible skeleton, despite the fact that he already has superstrength and an incredible healing factor. And that's not even considering the fact that he made a beeline from the heart of Africa to Burstein's home in order to be made bulletproof on top of that. Every single move that I have seen Michael make, was in order to make himself stronger, more powerful, more durable."
"All right. I can see it. Weird, but I get what you're getting at. But how does that answer my question?"'
"Because on both occasions, the things that he needs in order to become more powerful were threatened. Without me, he would have torn his own body apart long ago, with all the different means he keeps enhancing himself with. Without Titan Solutions backing him, he's just one man, and considering who some of his enemies are, being on your own is tantamount to being 'disappeared' in the middle of the night."
As she went over Sterns' words, she could finally identify one of the emotions she was currently feeling. Yep, there's that familiar sour taste of disappointment, something that she knew all too well unfortunately.
"So the only reason he went flying off the handle like that was because we're useful enough to him to be protected? Figures."
It was only once the words had left her mouth that she realized just how bitter they sounded, but Sterns just looked at her with a gentle smile and a small shake of his head.
"Not what I meant, Jessica. Or at least, not entirely. He has several serums inside of him which in any other person before him have shown to lead to mental instabilities. It was only after our trip to Wakanda that his psyche settled somewhat, and I used what I learned from his body to make Extremis safe enough to the point that such a thing is no longer a danger, and we don't plan on enhancing people with gamma-radiation period. But despite the fact that he's now a lot calmer than he used to be, he still has those old triggers and altered impulses. And when they are brought up as strongly as they were during that attack… well, I think it's debatable just how much of that was Michael and how much of that was… something darker."
"So what you're actually saying is… what?"
"We're working for a dick."
The blunt reply took her off guard, and before she could stop herself she let out a surprised laugh, quickly joined by Sterns' chuckling, before the scientist looked at her with a small smile.
"But, he's also someone that cares about us. In his own, dickish way, of course."
"Of course." Jessica replied wryly, getting a wink from Sterns in response.
Though she hated to admit it, even to herself, the scientist had turned out to be right: their little talk had left her feeling a bit better. Her emotions were still all over the place (though she'd die before she'd ever admit it), and she still wasn't completely sure how her thoughts about Michael had changed, but at least she had calmed down enough to the point that she decided to not worry about it for the moment.
When they returned to New York, then she and Michael would talk, but for now she still had a job to do.
Right as she thought that, she could hear the door to their room open and close again, heavy footsteps making their way towards where she and Sterns were sitting on one of the two beds.
Glancing over her shoulder, she saw Jim Harper, head of Security, approach them, his face impassive as it always was, his booted feet thudding against the carpet as he made his way over to the bed as well, where he sat down on Sterns other side.
"Done with your perimeter check then?"
"Yes ma'am." Came the dry response, and Jessica couldn't quite help herself from rolling her eyes at the stoic sixty year old (though he looked not a day over thirty).
The man was as emotive as a brick wall, and had a sense of humour to match. Still, he was dependable enough that Michael had given him multiple enhancements straight off the bat, and he had proven himself during their little road trip, so Jessica had decided to give the man some slack.
"All right then. Shall we call Michael now?" Sterns asked them, getting a 'yes sir' from Harper and a grunt and a shrug from her.
Reaching into his pocket, Sterns took out a slim piece of glass, opening the holographic interface with a flick of his finger. Quickly selecting Michael's contact, the phone connected with a few sharp rings before their boss answered, his exhausted face filling the small screen.
"Oh good, you called. I assume you've seen the news by now?"
"Yeah, we did. How is it going over there? Hang on, let me put you on viewing mode."
And with that, Sterns flicked his thumb up, sending the small screen flying upwards from the glass plate, hovering a foot away from them and three feet off the ground. Another finger flick, and the screen enlarged until it was larger than the TV in their room, like a slightly translucent flatscreen just hanging in the air.
"So, what's going on?"
Michael gave a deep sigh in response, as one massive hand came up to rub his face, before he placed his chin on his fist, fixing them with a flat stare.
"Honestly, better than expected, worse than I'd hoped. Finished going through the rubble of the warehouse, salvaged what we could. The police is keeping the journalists at bay, and S.H.I.E.L.D. is doing the same to all the other suits that want our tech for themselves, so on that front we're doing all right for now. It's more that we're floundering for what to do next. On the one hand, I want to tell people that they should go home to their families, but on the other hand, I need people here in order to keep guard over everything we salvaged, which I can't place in a secure location at the moment, since we're holed up in a hotel right now. I'm thinking about buying another warehouse for the time being, while we start building a fortified base somewhere, but that kinda shit takes time to process. Especially now that Hogarth's out of action. Her team is picking up her workload, but honestly she was better than them even beforewe enhanced her, so-"
"Wait, what do you mean, Hogarth's out of action?" Sterns asked with a bewildered expression.
"She got attacked Sterns. An assassin, sent by the Hand to take her head off. Got the surprise of his life when his sword didn't even manage to cut her."
"Is Hogarth all right?" Jessica asked in a worried tone, shoving her complicated thoughts about the man on the screen to the side for now.
"… No. Not really, no. The ninja figured out pretty quickly that only her skin is superdurable, so he took out one of her eyes."
"But she's got regeneration right? The eye will grow back, right?" Jessica asked.
While she wasn't exactly close to the hardass lawyer, she still respected the woman due to the fact that she had taken the plans of a small group of supergeniuses and used them to stamp a mutli-billion corporation out of the ground, practically overnight.
The fact that she was somewhat infamous within the ranks of Titan Solutions for taking no shit from anyone, not even Michael, meant that the lady was all right as far as Jessica was concerned.
"Yeah, the eye is growing back, but the damage was massive, so it's unclear whether or not it'll heal completely. It might regenerate, but with lessened vision or something. Doesn't really matter in the end, since we can still give Hogarth Extremis and it'll grow back fine. Her assistant though… the girl walked into Hogarth's office while she struggled with the ninja. Asshole killed her before she even knew what was going on. Jeri's devastated, they were… close."
For a moment, Michael fell silent, and the already grim mood in the tiny motel room turned even more sombre, before their boss visibly shook himself, looking at the screen with a focused gaze.
"Now's things on your end? Everything's fine? Are you guys all right?"
"Well, we are unharmed, if that's what you're asking…" Sterns trailed off, clearly somewhat unsure how to continue.
Jessica saw Michael's eyes widen just a bit, before the man gave a bone-tired sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose in exasperation.
"What happened?"
"Well, what happened is… Well, I think Jim might explain it better. He told us to keep back and took care of everything, so I honestly don't know all that much. Jim?"
Giving a curt nod and a grunt in return, Harper turned to look at the large screen, ordering his thoughts for a short moment as he crossed his arms in front of his broad chest.
"We were about sixty clicks out of New York when I started to suspect that we were being followed."
"What made you think that?" Michael asked with a frown.
"The same white van kept a consistent six cars lengths behind us for over twenty minutes sir. Still, I wasn't sure, so I had Dr. Sterns drive into the nearest town, and had him make four right turns. When the car I spotted kept following us, I had confirmation that we had picked up a tail." Harper explained, which drew a scowl from Michael.
"You were followed? Shit. Not unexpected, as Oliver isn't the most inconspicuous vehicle in the world, but still. It's a moot point now, I suppose. What did you do once you had confirmation?"
"I told Dr. Sterns to pull into the nearest motel he could find, and had Miss Jones call you for further instructions. Both you and HQ couldn't be reached, so I considered our situation a field op and took charge."
"Fair enough. I lost my phone when I hurried to stop the attack, and people at HQ… Well, like I said, you've seen the news. Go on." Michael ordered, getting a brisk nod from Harper.
"Yes sir. We went to the motel that Dr. Sterns had found, and I had him and Jessica exit the vehicle and enter, where they rented a room. I snuck out of the vehicle after they had entered, making sure that I wasn't seen in the proximity of the truck. I then went inside myself, and also rented a room. While the clerk's back was turned, I placed a miniature microphone underneath the desk, and once I received my key, met up with Miss Jones and Dr. Sterns at the agreed upon rendezvous, where we switched rooms."
"Wait. Miniature microphone?" Michael asked with a raised eyebrow.
Giving a stoic nod at Michael's confused tone, Harper quickly explained.
"After you told us about the danger of the Hand and Hydra, and that I was going to go accompany Miss Jones and Dr. Sterns on a mission to recruit Dr. Radcliffe, I had a set of equipment made by Mr. Mason. Small gear, such as mics, trackers, flashbangs, anything that I could think of that we might need and that he could build in under two days."
"I see. Well done, I suppose, especially since it seems that you did in fact need it. Just, next time make sure to tell me about it, all right? I can then pitch it to the other scientists, or to Hogarth. Maybe some of it can be made on a larger scale, or repurposed or something, or even marketed." Michael advised, getting a grunt of acknowledgement from Harper.
"Will do, sir. After we rendezvoused, I asked Miss Jones to take the Doctor to my room and protect him there, while I went to the room they had rented. I started listening to the hidden mic, and after approximately 6 minutes, I heard two men talking, asking the clerk which room two people matching the description of Miss Jones and Dr. Sterns had rented, which confirmed my suspicion that we were being watched. Knowing that the men would be coming to my room, I settled in to wait for them, messaging Miss Jones that she and Dr. Sterns should remain put."
"All right. So these unknowns, they what? Just knocked on your door?"
"They did, sir. I could tell that they were surprised to see me, and they asked me about the whereabouts of Dr. Sterns specifically. When I asked for verification, they just told me they were CIA, but they didn't produce any ID. After I refused to give up the location of Dr. Sterns, they got angry. One of them said to the other that 'they didn't have time for this shit', and pulled a gun on me."
"Really? Clearly they were misinformed about your abilities then, so that's a relief at least. Then what happened?" Michael asked.
"He shot me in the head, sir."
Jessica barely withheld a snort of laughter at Michael's dumbfounded expression as he took in Harper's characteristically blunt answer.
"Ah. I see. And then what did you do?"
"I put him through the wall, sir. He didn't bother me again after that. Didn't have the proper faculties for it no more, I reckon."
"Right. Right. Most people wouldn't, I suspect." Michael said dryly, as he adjusted to Harper's flat manner of storytelling.
"How did his partner react?"
"He tried to shoot me in the head as well, sir."
"Naturally. And how did you respond? Put him through the wall as well?" Michael asked with some bleak amusement shining through in his voice.
"No, sir. I needed someone to interrogate after all. So I just closed my hand around the barrel. Messed it up pretty bad when he tried to fire anyways, though it didn't hurt him too much. Scared the shit outta him, that's for sure though."
"A rather understandable reaction I suppose. And did you manage to interrogate him?"
"Yes I did, sir. I just asked him nicely who he was, and why he was followin' us. When he didn't want to tell me, I asked again, but less nicely. He started talking, but he lied, so I had to ask again, but a bit meaner this time. He told me the truth after that one."
It might just be the biggest understatement Jessica had ever heard in her life, told with about as much emotion as you would expect from a toaster. They had heard the screams all the way from the room Harper had forced her and Sterns to hide in.
After nearly fifteen minutes, the head of Security barged into their room completely covered in blood, and sirens were already closing in, so they had literally jumped out of the window (how Sterns had managed to fall without even so much as a scratch she didn't know) and had hightailed it out of the little village, not stopping until they reached this dingy motel after driving for another three hours.
"As simultaneously horrifying and intriguing as that statement is, Mr. Harper, I'm going to ignore it for now. What did you learn?" Michael asked after visibly shaking himself.
"They were being sent by Hydra. They know that Dr. Sterns is behind most of the enhancement serums, so they wanted to grab him and force him to work Hydra. They were specifically after the Rejuvenation Serum."
"The Rejuvenation Serum? Really? I'd expected them to be more interested in Extremis, what with their raging boner for supersoldiers and whatnot. Did you get the name of the one who sent them?"
"It took quite a lot of asking, sir, but I did. Some guy by the name of Whitehall."
"… Shit."
AN: Gonna be honest with you guys, I really don't think that I captured Fury's tone right. Samuel L. Jackson always plays Samuel L. Jackson (much like Anthony Hopkins will always be Anthony Hopkins in every movie) but you can't just keep slapping Motherfucker in his sentences to make his characters sound like him, because all of them are slightly different from each other in subtle ways. I dunno, let me know what you think.
EDIT: I made some changes to Fury's part, so hopefully I captured his tone better this time. I also tried to show that Michael isn't just rolling over for Fury, but Fury is simply content to get what little he can weasel out of him for the moment, so that he can try again at a later time from a position with leverage. At the moment, he and Michael are just sort of circling eachother, neither one really trusting the other, but also recognizing that fighting would get them nowhere. So this is Fury basically extending an olive branch. But one with thorns. 'Cause he can be a dick like that sometimes. Also cleaned up Jeri's part in order to make the actions flow better, and broke up the dialogue heavy part between Harper and Michael a bit. Let me know what you think about the changes!
Fun Fact: Before settling on Spider-Man, Stan Lee considered calling the new superhero he and Ditko had created either Fly-Man or Insect-Man.
RIP Steve Ditko (1927-2018)
As always, a truckload of thanks to my wonderful Patrons, AndrewDC_MAC2, Thordur hrafn and Daniel Dorfman and a very warm welcome to ReaperScythe! You guys are the best! I mean, all of my readers are awesome by default, but you people are something else. In the words of All Might: Plus Ultra!