Exiting the BUS and boarding a ground vehicle, they depart to the site.
The road deteriorated into dirt as they drove inland, jungle closing around them.
At the end of the path, a towering stone temple rose from the forest.
Ancient and massive, an impossible sight from the ancient times.
James surveyed it quietly.
'Here we go again.'
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
An archaeological doctor waited at the base of the temple. The rest of the team had already been evacuated.
Phil Coulson stepped forward, exchanged a few quiet words, and guided the group inside.
The moment they entered, the contrast was obvious. An ancient carved wall stretched across the chamber, depicting a long-dead civilization—rituals, symbols, figures carved in stone. The only discordant element was a modern object, embedded directly into the wall.
Fitz immediately opened his case. Inside sat the compact reconnaissance drone he had built, its scanning optics already warming up.
At Coulson's urging, the doctor was escorted out of the temple. Fitz, Simmons, and Coulson remained inside. James and Melinda May took up positions outside.
TEMPLE ENTRANCE
"I heard about what happened," James said to pass time while scanning the tree line. "That's why you transferred to a civilian role. If you ever want to talk—"
"I don't," May replied flatly.
James nodded, unoffended. "Fair enough. Still—some things shouldn't stay buried forever. Especially when they weren't your fault."
He knew exactly what had happened that day. Alien genetics, Activation triggers, and Survivors who were never meant to survive the experimentations.
May gaved him a straight look. "Focus on your surroundings."
"Already am," James replied. "The Peruvian police are approaching. They won't act unless they want a diplomatic incident with S.H.I.E.L.D., what I'm more concerned about are insurgents. Local rebels will use police presence as cover."
James didn't make a move. He simply watched them.
He had no interest in fighting the Peruvian authorities. If S.H.I.E.L.D. was going to survive after Hydra was purged, its reputation mattered.
Engines echoed in the distance.
"Go inside," James said. "I'll cover the entrance and alert Phil."
May hesitated. James wasn't wearing his armor.
"You sure?" she asked.
James smiled faintly. "I don't gamble with my life."
'If they fire first,' he thought, 'These grunts won't even require me to use my armor, just Gunfu.'
May moved quickly back into the temple.
James stepped back, putting himself at the center of the entrance.
CONTACT
A single road led to the temple. Vehicles rolled in from both sides. At the same time, armed figures emerged from the jungle—led by a striking woman.
Coulson passed James as he stepped outside.
"Can you handle this?" Coulson asked as he watched the coming figures.
"Easy peasy, if it gets out of hand, Nocturne is on standby" James replied.
Coulson smiled when he saw the woman. "Camilla?"
"Philip? I didn't expect you to come here and be surrounded by me." she answered, equally surprised.
James frowned slightly. This was… about to get complicated.
"Same here, but it's not that you surrounded us, it's just that we didn't take the initiative to attack. You don't mind letting your people put down their guns, do you?" Phil Coulson said with a smile. This is his test. If the other party doesn't put down their guns, then he is ready to step back and let James handle them.
Camilla raised her hand. Her people complied.
She and Coulson stepped aside, speaking privately. James kept his attention outward.
AMBUSH
The explosion came without warning, far too close.
The Peruvian military and police vehicles disappeared behind fire and shrapnel as the shockwave rolled through the clearing. Gunfire followed instantly, erupting from the dense jungle on all sides.
Trees hide movements and shadows dance all around. It was impossible to count how many attackers were advancing.
James retreated to the temple entrance, getting himself ready for the confrontation.
His hands were empty for less than a second.
Then the pistols came out.
The Safari Arms Matchmaster settled into his right hand, a solid, heavy and familiar power of a .45.
The Imanishi 17 took his left—sleeker, lighter, and customized for rapid shooting.
The first shot came from the Matchmaster.
A single thunderous bang cut through the jungle. One attacker collapsed mid-stride, the impact landing a killing blow.
James made his move.
Not running, but flowing through the rain of bullets.
Gunfire zipping around him. He leaned back, with his back horizontal to the ground as bullet rounds ripped through the air where his torso had been a heartbeat earlier. His left hand snapped out—the Imanishi firing twice in rapid succession. Two insurgents dropped behind cover, legs giving out before they could react.
Inside the temple, tension spiked.
Melinda May stepped into the doorway, an I.C.E.R. rifle already up, with a standard-issue pistol secured at her hip. Her eyes swept the field for enemies.
"Step back, you're exposed," she said.
James didn't look back, but made a faint smug look at her concern.
"I know."
She took position at the entrance. Blue-white pulses snapped from the I.C.E.R., dropping two rushing figures without killing them.
James stepped into the firezone.
A round clipped past his shoulder. He moved with it, momentum carrying him into a low pivot. The Matchmaster fired again—one heavy shot, one man collapsing into the dirt.
The Imanishi filled the gaps.
Fast and precise. Using controlled bursts that punished careless movements. Knees were shattered. Shoulders immobilized. Hands lost their grip on rifles.
Bullets suddenly came from three directions.
James bent, twisted, and slid between them—every motion was fluid like a dance among hail of bullets. This wasn't luck. It was gun kata, body angles minimizing enemy exposure, footwork dancing in unpredictable movements.
With the pistols firing their last bullets, James ejected the gun up, with the magazines left in hand. Storing then equipping new fully loaded Magazines into his hands, the pistols fell directly on the magazine reloading them, then crossing the 2 pistols together to load the chambers.
The Matchmaster's weight and recoil anchored his stance. The Beretta's balance and quickfire allowed for a quick easy 360 degree firing, while dropping to a knee and rolling across a damp ground.
Coulson and Camilla fought back-to-back now, holding the line as best they could.
James closed the distance.
'I ain't letting you get killed again,' he thought. 'Not with me being here.'
By the time he reached Coulson's position, the jungle ground was littered with bodies—some unconscious, but most very much not.
"Phil," James said evenly, firing once more without breaking stride, "I'm pushing into the jungle. Fall back to the temple entrance. Set a defensive line."
Coulson started to nod—
"No," Camilla said sharply. "We must withdraw. We don't know their numbers. You can survive alone—but my people will suffer heavy casualties."
James frowned. He didn't like it. But she was right.
Coulson hesitated, then nodded. "We'll pull back."
James adjusted his grip, eyes tracking the treeline. Boarding the aircraft kept things diplomatic, but if anything went wrong on the plane, that was a different kind of fight.
"James," Coulson said, already moving, "get the vehicle and pick the guys up. We'll approach from the east side."
A decision was made.
James pivoted, the Matchmaster firing once, killing an idiot who thought they finally got the upperhand. The Imanishi followed with two sharp shots, grazing 2 more and would serve as a warning.
Then he broke into a run, disappearing into the jungle, pistols still warm in his hands.
JUNGLE — MOVING
He avoided the main road, cutting through dense foliage. The rebels were everywhere, converging on the temple.
[Nine o'clock. Two o'clock. High ground.]
James didn't slow down. He let Cortana handle tracking, feeding him constant enemy position updates through his visual field. He fired on instinct—short bursts in impossible angles.
Accuracy unhindered while moving, his inhuman accuracy and ability to curve bullets rendered enemies defenceless, any bullets that would hit him would either get dodged or parried with another bullet. With Cortana's tracking, no enemies in his way could escape getting hit by a bullet.
The vehicle soon came into view.
James dove inside and ignited the engine as gunfire clanged all around him. The armored plating held. He swung the wheel hard and accelerated straight back toward the temple, parking sideways on the entrance that blocked the enemy's firing sight.
TEMPLE ENTRANCE
May was constantly firing.
When she saw the vehicle, she didn't move to board.
"They're not getting that artifact out fast enough!" she shouted.
James swore under his breath.
That timid Fitz.
He exited through the passenger side, rolled out, and sprinted for the entrance.
INSIDE THE TEMPLE
Fitz, Simmons, and Skye had packed everything except the 0-8-4 artifact, still embedded in the stone wall. They were arguing in panicked indecision.
James ignored them and went for the artifact.
He grabbed the object with both hands and tore it free in one clean motion, laying it down into the containment bag.
Fitz stared. "You can't just—"
"Get moving!" James cut in.
He shoved the bag into Fitz's hands and turned back toward the exit, twin pistols already up.
EXTRACTION
May used the vehicle as cover.
"Your driving, I'll shoot them down" James ordered.
He opened fire immediately. Rebel pressure collapsed under the sudden counterattack.
"Get in!" he shouted.
Fitz, Simmons, and Skye scrambled into the back seat.
James fired a couple more, then slid into the passenger seat as the vehicle surged forward.
He glanced back just in time to see Coulson climbing into a Peruvian military police truck.
FLIGHT BASE — TAKEOFF
As they sped along, James' car led the way, followed by a pickup truck belonging to the Peruvian military police. "Set the BUS to Autopilot when we're aboard," James said.
May shot him a look but didn't argue.
The vehicle drove straight into the aircraft's bay. James exited with a bolt action sniper rifle, he braced himself at the rear ramp as he aimed at the approaching enemies.
Phil Coulson and the others followed closely behind. The car stopped and everyone began to get out of the car. Then, two people hid in the back of the car as cover. There were a number of cars behind them, and they were filled with rebels. This may not be like in American dramas, but this was normal.
James pulled the trigger and a rebel ready to use a machine gun fell with a bang. He cocked the bolt and another bullet was pushed into the chamber. With every bang, someone would fall to the ground. The rebels were starting to feel fear. Some of them even began to retreat.
With all the enemies either dead or had runaway, everyone began boarding. The rear door closed and the plane began to taxi and finally take off.
THE BUS — LAB
Weapons were secured by the Peruvian military police under Coulson's supervision.
James helped carry equipment into the lab.
Fitz followed—but was furious.
"That was reckless," Fitz snapped. "You don't even know what that 0-8-4 is capable of!"
James ignored his outburst and just looked at the corridor where the Peruvians they helped escape were moving.
Coulson entered moments later. "Is there a problem here?"
Fitz froze.
James finally spoke. "Was the woman clean?"
"Yes," Coulson said. "I'll be handling the rest. You and May can take this."
He soon left.
May entered as the lab door sealed.
"The aircraft is on autopilot," she said. "We'll be inside S.H.I.E.L.D. airspace surveillance shortly. What are you going to do now?"
James met her eyes. "If you don't want to participate, you can watch the three of them here. I can handle this alone."
Skye couldn't handle the weird atmosphere and finally shouted. "What the hell is going on?"