"Well, isn't that something?" Tony remarked.
As he continued to work, he kept one eye on the resumed news footage – which had switched to a shot from a helicopter – of Fury's SUV bring chased through traffic by the police. Suddenly, the footage cut out only to be replaced by an image of the SUV laying upside down in the middle of the road.
"What in the world caused that?" Tony wondered.
With the way that Fury had been driving, there should have been no way that he'd flip on a clear road. He'd obviously encountered something.
"Our trojan horse is still in place," Jarvis reported.
"I see him," Tony replied as he eased his computer probe around a particularly nasty firewall to the small piece of code embedded within S.H.I.E.L.D.'s systems themselves. "Put him to work. I want to know everything that S.H.I.E.L.D. knows about the two assassination attempts on Fury, the unsuccessful car chase one and the successful one in Steve's apartment."
"Yes, Sir," Jarvis replied.
The wait was shorter than Tony anticipated and Jarvis' voice caught him mid roll of his fingers as they drummed on the table.
"These are the files relating to the incident in Captain Rogers' apartment," Jarvis said. "Initial incident report, ballistics report, the report from the lab as to fibres found on the adjacent roof, initial medical report, hospital report and death certificate."
As Jarvis named each one, the report filled the screen, the number of tabs at the bottom showing how many there were.
"What about the car chase?" Tony asked.
"There are no reports, Sir," Jarvis replied.
Tony froze. "Nothing? Seriously?"
"That is correct, Sir," Jarvis replied.
"This is looking hinkier every minute," Tony stated. "Keep searching, buddy. Let me know if you find anything."
"Yes, Sir," Jarvis replied, but his words were lost as Tony's whole focus became the reports that he was engrossed in.
ooo00ooo
"Attention all hands," the voice of the aircraft carrier Illiad's commander, Robert Gonzales, called over the internal intercom.
The four sitting around the poker table paused and looked up at the speaker in the corner of the room.
"At twenty-three forty-seven Eastern time, S.H.I.E.L.D. Director Nicholas Fury was pronounced dead on an operating table after being shot by an assassin. We will now observe one minute's silence in his honour."
Agent Bobbi Morse's eyes widened in shock and she stared at her poker buddies, all displaying their own version of the emotion as well. Mack was the most stoic, simply laying his cards facedown before lowering his head. Hartley looked as though she'd swallowed something vile. And Perkins was simply shaking his head.
Bobbi couldn't blame them. They'd all heard the stories about the Director – Bobbi, herself had met him on numerous occasions and even worked in his security detail before being personally tapped by him for a number of special missions.
As absolute silence was observed on the mighty ship, Bobbi couldn't help but think of her primary duty, being S.H.I.E.L.D.'s liaison to the Avengers. She knew that there were plenty within S.H.I.E.L.D. that didn't particularly like the 'superhero' team, especially the fact that they were given quite a bit of free reign with no real oversight. And if someone with that mindset ascended to the Directorship, they could make a mess of things.
Bobbi shivered at Stark's reaction if someone tried to actually order him around or declare his 'toys' as being nothing but S.H.I.E.L.D. assets. And as difficult as Stark could be, some of the others could be even more dangerous. Especially someone like Potter with magic at very fingertips.
As the seconds of the minutes' silence ticked down, Bobbi vowed to make sure that, as soon as her current mission was completed, she'd be on the first aircraft back to New York, if only to head off any potential problems that might arise. Nick Fury had given her that assignment and made it her primary duty and she'd be damned if she wasn't going to see it through just as he would have wanted.
ooo00ooo
Steve was tired. It'd been an incredibly long night, a night that simply didn't seem to end. First had come the surprise of finding Fury in his apartment, then the shooting. He'd barely had time to process that his neighbour wasn't the friendly nurse that he'd thought but had instead been S.H.I.E.L.D. Secret Service – Agent 13, Sharon had identified herself as – assigned to protect him before he was racing through buildings trying to catch the shooter.
And there was something about that shooter. He had a metal arm and a mask on his lower face. His speed and strength indicated that he'd been enhanced, just as Steve himself was. It was definitely something to keep in mind when he finally caught up with him again.
The trip to the hospital with Fury had been hectic, as had the emergency room. Standing, watching as a team of doctors feverishly tried to save him had been agonising but more so for his companions; both Maria and Nat hadn't seemed to know what to do, their usual unflappableness dissolved.
Steve, himself, had barely been given any time at all to process what had happened before being whisked off to the Triskelion for briefing. Agent after agent had probed him for anything and everything that he could remember about the shooting itself and then the shooter that he'd followed and lost. Endless questions had been shot at him, many seeming to cover the same ground, albeit from a different angle each time.
.
.
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