Post by DiscipleofBob on Dec 19, 2014 2:13:10 GMT -5
Agents of SHIELD #5:
Agents Assembled
Agents Assembled
SHIELD Helicarrier, over the Atlantic Ocean
The view from the Officer's Lounge was always breathtaking, whether it was of the wide open ocean or a full bird's eye view of New York. After a long day of saving the world, it offered a brief respite to higher ranking officers and field agents. The bar was moderately stocked, but with a wide variety of refreshments from around the world. Not every moment could be spent fighting terrorists, training, or researching. At the moment, one such officer was sitting alone at the bar until she was approached.
"Captain Danvers?"
Carol looked up to see a very tall, very muscular man standing by her seat. Only higher ranking personnel like herself were allowed in the officers' lounge without an escort, but she couldn't tell his rank as he was out of uniform. She didn't recognize the face, and judging by the lost puppy dog expression on his face, she guessed he was new.
"Captain Marvel, actually. I'm trying to get used to the name change before the wedding makes everything official."
"All right then, Captain Marvel. I've been looking for you."
"Well, you found me. What can I do for you?"
"First of all, I'd like to buy you a drink."
Another one. A few years ago she might have taken a muscle man like him up on such an offer, but she'd switched from body builders to nerds when she had started seeing Walter. She shook her head, laughing softly. "I'm not sure that's appropriate conduct."
"Why not?"
"Because I don't think my husband would approve." Fiancée technically, but Carol liked to make a point in case other guys propositioning her just didn't get the hint.
"What? I didn't mean anything like that." The man sculpted like an action figure turned beet red. "I only wanted to buy you a drink for saving my life."
If he was backpedaling to save face, Carol had to admit he was doing a good job. She put on her best smile to try and put him down gently. "Look, I appreciate the gesture, I really do. And I don't mean to sound like a stuck-up bitch, but if I let every guy buy me a drink for saving their life, I'd be an alcoholic. So please, feel free to sit down and enjoy yourself. I don't mind. But don't feel like you owe me anything. I'm just doing my job."
"Fair enough. I just figured catching a guy falling 50,000 feet after jumping off a helicarrier with a jet deserved some kind of celebration."
Carol nearly choked on her beer. "You're Captain America!"
Only once she realized it did she see the resemblance between the man standing before her and the old black and white history photos and war films. The legendary super soldier smiled. "Steve's fine. Or Captain Rogers if you're feeling formal."
"I'm sorry! I didn't recognize you out of uniform." Carol quickly winced at what she just said. "That... came out wrong."
"You sure you don't want that drink, Captain?" Rogers offered again.
"Carol, please," she insisted. "It'll just be confusing if we keep call each other Captain. And I should be buying you a drink." She motioned for him to sit down on the adjacent bar chair, which he graciously accepted.
"Not sure that would be appropriate conduct for officers. I am trying to be a gentleman here."
"Well, it's not the 1940's anymore, Steve. Women are allowed to buy drinks now too."
Rogers shrugged. "I guess I just prefer to be old-fashioned."
"And how exactly are you going to pay?" Rogers' smile faded, realizing the obvious problem for the man out of time. "I'll take this one. You can but the next round after you've claimed some of your backpay," Carol said with a smirk as she flagged the bartender down.
"Thanks. And, uh, just to be clear, I'm not looking to make a dishonest woman out of you or anything. The only type of company I need right now is a friend, or at least a colleague."
"To new friendships then." After Rogers's drink was poured and Carol's was refilled, she raised his glass to his, and they both took deep gulps.
Carol couldn't believe she was sharing a drink with the Captain America, half-expecting Abraham Lincoln or Theodore Roosevelt to burst through the door to do shots, though she doubt either of them would've had Rogers's figure. She had to mentally remind herself she was spoken for and that she really did love Walter, as star-struck as she was.
"You know my fiancée Walter and I were part of the team that found you buried in the ice," she mentioned.
"Is that so?" Rogers's voice took on a serious tone. "Then you know what else was found with me." Carol nodded solemnly. "I wish I could say I just came down for a drink, but I have another reason for seeking you out. Fury's asked me to put together a team."
Carol's eyes widened. "So soon?"
"I was surprised, too. But if what's coming is half as dangerous as Fury expects, we don't have enough time already. I need the best SHIELD has to offer, and according to everyone I've talked to since I woke up, you're the best."
Carol nodded with a smirk. "I'm not one for false modesty."
"Then I can count you in?"
"Like I'm going to say no to Captain freaking America," Carol laughed. "So what's the mission?"
"Good. The rest of the team should be arriving sometime soon. I'll go over the full details at the briefing."
"Out of curiosity, who else do you have lined up?"
Rogers paused as he recalled the names from the files. "So far? Clint Barton, Frank Payne, and Natasha Romanoff."
Carol's eyes widened at the names. She quickly downed the rest of her drink, left money on the table, and began mentally preparing herself. For even though she would have been an idiot, possibly even unpatriotic, to pass up on the opportunity to fight alongside Captain America, she'd have to be insane to willingly join a team with those three combined.
Nick Fury paced the windowless briefing room, four of SHIELD's best agents sat on opposite corners of the round table, putting as much distance between each other as possible.
Carol Danvers sat in the front in full, traditional SHIELD garb, her long blonde hair tied back. While she was undoubtedly the best pilot in the room if not in all of SHIELD, she knew firsthand that anyone else there could take her in pure hand-to-hand combat.
Well, except for maybe Clint Barton, resident sniper and showoff, standing in the back in the same mirror shades and purple-black outfit he'd been picked up in. The bow and arrow might have seemed like a bad joke at first to most agents who met Barton, that bow had been refined over the years by the best SHIELD engineers had to offer, and the arrows had nasty surprises, containing tech often not released to the rest of SHIELD being deemed too unstable or impractical for regular agent use. Whatever Bobbi saw in him, Carol would never understand.
Sitting across from Carol also in the front was the infamous Black Widow, Natasha Romanoff. She wore a modified SHIELD uniform without any of the trim, just a skintight black leather outfit that showed off every curve, and zipped down the front for no other reason it seemed than it let Romanoff be more sultry. Carol thought she looked ridiculous, like something out of a Michael Bay movie, but she knew better. Romanoff had the highest known kill count in SHIELD, and that was only what was confirmed. She was a cold-blooded ex-KGB assassin who never showed a hint of remorse unless she was playing you, and no one in their right mind would ever have trusted someone with her record, yet Fury trusted her without question.
Finally, there was Frank Payne, an ex-con muscle from Detroit. He'd changed out of the bloody prison rags, but not into a SHIELD uniform. Camo pants, white t-shirt, Kevlar vest, gun harness, several grenade belts, and thick steel-toed combat boots. And this was just to the mission briefing. Carol only knew a fraction of Payne's criminal past, just that at some point he made the transition from SHIELD's Wanted list to one of their best agents.
"I'm bored. When are we going to get started?" asked Barton, of course, eliciting glares from the rest of the room.
Everyone else was silent, being able to maintain enough professionalism to wait in silence. When it became clear that not even his steely one-eyed gaze would get Barton to sit still, Fury answered. "We're waiting on one more."
The doors opened, turning eager heads to see Phil Coulson, at which point everyone turned back around slightly more irritated than before. Coulson could only wonder why his arrival was the cause of such disappointment. "Not him," Fury clarified, "Coulson, what are you doing here?"
"I asked him to be here," said a voice that rivaled Fury's in commanding authority. Captain America, dressed in full red white and blue uniform, followed shortly behind.
Barton took one good look at the costume and snickered. "I thought we were past Fourth of July."
Before Rogers or anyone could respond, Fury grabbed Captain America by the arm and escorted him just outside the room. "I need to speak with you. Privately."
"I think he was supposed to jump out of a birthday cake or something," Barton commented, again to scowling faces from the rest of the room. "What, you mean this isn't Carol's bachelorette party?"
Fury led Rogers around the corner. Hopefully he could say what he needed privately, but with his best agents in the next room, he doubted even soundproofed walls could keep them from overhearing them. "What the hell is Coulson doing here? He was not one of the choices I gave you."
"Yeah, and he should have been," Rogers replied without missing a beat.
"Coulson's needed elsewhere."
"I need someone who knows SHIELD inside and out, someone who can tell me what teams are working where and how to contact them, someone who, if needed, can pull diplomatic channels."
Fury's eye narrowed. He'd thought that his rank alone would be enough to stay in complete control, but he didn't command the same level of respect from Rogers as the rest of SHIELD. "I've already given you my best agents. I need Coulson on the Helicarrier so he can oversee things when I'm not here."
"Coulson can tap into SHIELD resources, give orders to other SHIELD agents, and get us any clearances or other resources available. The other agents are all good, the best in their fields if their records are any indications, but with the exception of maybe Carol they're all too used to working alone. Without support. Which means they won't know how to call in support if we need it. You need me to put the best team together possible. For that, I need Coulson. There's no one else with his qualifications available." It was an unusual situation for Fury. Anyone else in SHIELD would have followed his lead without contest. Even Barton who made a constant ass of himself knew when to shut up and follow orders, but Rogers was different. He respected Fury's authority, but he also commanded it himself. Fury couldn't argue with Rogers's logic even if it went against his instinct.
Instead he focused on something else that bugged him. "You and Carol are on a first name basis now?"
"She said she's transitioning between last names, so I figure for now Carol is simpler to avoid confusion," Rogers explained without any trace of the ulterior motive Fury was looking for.
"She's engaged, you know."
"She's also perfectly capable of making friendships on her own judgment. I don't have any 'intentions' if that's what you're implying."
Fury tried to find something to argue with, but after a few minutes of staring down the unflinching super soldier, relented. "Fine. Coulson stays, for now."
Captain America smiled and nodded as they both headed back into the room where everyone was waiting, and Coulson was now the fidgety one, feeling the smallest fish in a big pond of SHIELD's finest. Once again, Barton was all too eager to break the silence before anyone could officially start the meeting. "Okay, Fury, seriously, what's going on? Why is there a guy dressed like Captain America here? Do you really think you're fooling anyone with that tacky costume?"
Ignoring Barton for the moment, Fury made the official introduction. "Ladies and gentleman, this is Captain Steve Rogers, aka Captain America."
Payne, Romanoff, and Barton all eyed the supposed super soldier with equal skepticism. "You're joking."
"Do I look like I'm joking, Barton?"
"That sounds like a trick question," Barton grinned.
"It's supposed to be a rhetorical one, dumbass," said Payne.
Before this could devolve anymore, Fury continued explaining. "About six months ago, a SHIELD research team discovered a crashed WW2 ship buried in an Arctic glacier. After we excavated it, we kept its contents classified level 10. It contained this man you're looking at."
"You really expect me to believe that this guy is a 90-year old superhero?" Barton said incredulously. "This guy looks more like he should be modeling underwear for Calvin Klein!"
"Somebody punch him."
"I was on the team that found him originally," Carol spoke up, eager to move this along.
"And I was there when he work up. Not to mention he was apparently the reason Zemo and his crew risked an attack on the Helicarrier. Is that enough evidence for you, Barton, or do you want a birth certificate?" Coulson added.
"How the hell is he still alive?" Payne asked curtly.
"You're right. Anyone else under those circumstances would just be a well-preserved corpse. I don't have a full explanation for Rogers's current living condition other than how little we know about the original super soldier serum. That combined with the extreme cold temperatures preserved his body to the point where, with our best technology, we managed to revive him," Fury tried to explain.
"Man, SHIELD has the best health insurance," muttered Barton.
Rogers stepped forward. "I know it sounds strange. I can barely understand how it all works myself. Hell, I'm on some kind of futuristic military ship 50,000 feet in the air. I'm still trying to wrap my head around most of this." Hearing the living legend speak was enough to get the room to stop debating his existence. While it was certainly one of the more absurd tales, this was SHIELD. Anything was possible.
Fury took the momentary lapse in chatter to continue the briefing. "Captain America will be leading all of you on a long-term series of missions designed with one goal: take down HYDRA."
Once again, Barton couldn't be bothered to wait for a Q&A session. "Um, point of order: Why is he being putting in charge. No offense, but even if I accept that you're the one and only Captain America, it'd be like bringing George Washington back to life and putting him in charge of a SWAT team. I'm sure it'd be entertaining, but not exactly ideal."
"Also, HYDRA's been around since, well, apparently since you. We've been going after them for decades. Why is now different?" Payne added.
"Because I'm not the only one who was frozen and revived. HYDRA raided the Helicarrier a few days back. I was their secondary goal. Their first, was the still frozen body of Johann Schmidt, the Red Skull." The room fell silent, the idea of one of history's greatest terrorists being revived as well was not only just as absurd as Captain America's revival, but equally terrifying. "I can guarantee that their plan is to revive Schmidt the same way I was, and I'll grant you that HYDRA's most likely changed beyond my recognition in the past 70 years, they'll place him in charge. Both Schmidt and I are fast learners. Schmidt will take HYDRA and turn it back into the terror it once was unless we systematically take them down now. I spent my military career fighting Red Skull. I know how he thinks, how he'll act."
"And that alone makes you qualified to lead? Everything you know is still 70 years out of date," Barton pointed out.
Rogers took a deep breath and stepped to the front of the room, addressing everyone at once. "If you asked me if I thought I was the best candidate to lead a SHIELD team, I would say no. There are definitely others more qualified in many aspects, not the least of which is the fact that I don't know about anything from 1945 to now."
"Oh yeah, real inspiring speech there, Cap," Barton commented, but Rogers cut him off before he could continue.
"In 1943, I was just a scrawny 5'2'' kid from Brooklyn who they wouldn't even let push pencils in the military. Every recruiter told me that I wasn't needed, that there were plenty of other more qualified soldiers, that I'd be better off if I stayed at home while my schoolmates were getting shot at by HYDRA. Then I met Dr. Abraham Erskine and, well, the rest is now history. I didn't give up and let other people die ahead of me then, and I won't now. So yeah, there are many ways that I'm not the most qualified person to lead here. And if you join my team I would rely on you to help fill in where I lack. But I've been called upon again to do my duty and bring the fight to an enemy I spent years battling, and even if I have my own personal doubts, I'm not going to ignore the call and step aside so someone else can die first." Rogers walked over to Barton's location and offered his hand. "I, Captain America, am asking you to join the fight. Will you answer the call?"
For once, Barton didn't have a witty comeback, cornered by the greatest hero in American history and finding himself unable to maintain a steady dose of sarcasm. "Damn..."
"Why do I feel the sudden urge to buy war bonds?" Payne wondered aloud.
To be continued...