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?"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The laboratory fell into an uneasy silence.
James finally spoke.
"I need you to understand this," he said calmly. "Our job as agents isn't to run perfect experiments. Even scientists need to accept risk under pressure. In the field, hesitation kills. When a decision has to be made, you make it."
He turned to Fitz.
"Let's use the 0-8-4 as an example. How did you judge the situation?"
Fitz hesitated, then answered carefully. "The radiation index was ten. There was abnormal internal activity. It appeared to be powered by some form of Tesseract energy."
"Stop." James raised a hand. "Not exactly. The energy signature is derived from the Tesseract, not the Tesseract itself. How much do you actually know about it?"
Fitz swallowed. "Not much. My studies focused on Hydra weapons from World War II."
James nodded. "Then answer me this. Is the Tesseract energy stable?"
"That depends—"
"Answer the question," James interrupted evenly. "Is it stable?"
"…Yes," Fitz admitted.
"That's right," James said. "It's extremely stable. Catastrophic if misused—but stable. In that situation, the correct call was to extract and move. We're agents, and in combat, we use clear communication, no jargon. You and Simmons aren't just scientists—you're field operatives. Panic is a liability."
Skye finally snapped. "You still haven't explained what's really going on."
James looked at her. "The Peruvian military police want the 0-8-4. We could've held the rebels, but they forced a withdrawal and boarded with us. That's not a coincidence."
Her eyes widened. "They're government forces."
"So are we," James replied flatly. "S.H.I.E.L.D. trusts no one completely—not even allies. Did you see New York? Military assets don't always arrive in time. Sometimes they arrive with different orders."
Skye leaned forward, intrigued. "So something 'is' happening."
"Stay focused now," James said. "You three lock the lab door. They can't breach it without proper weapons."
He turned to May. "Do you want to stay or babysit?"
"I'll go up with you."
They stepped out. Fitz locked the lab door immediately. James checked it once, then moved on.
SECOND FLOOR — LOUNGE
Five Peruvian military police officers were resting, drinks in hand.
James calmly took a bottle of wine and two glasses from the bar. He and May sat opposite them, pouring without hurry.
"Take a break, they won't make a move yet," James whispered to May. "Phil should be dealing with their leader."
May took a sip. "Theres five of them. How do you want to split them?"
"I think one of them will go down." James replied. "The other four will try to contain us. If they manage to secure a hostage, that's gonna be extra work."
May nodded. "So we get two each?"
"I'll handle my two fast… then I'll come save you." James wink, then drank the wine in the glass in one gulp, then leaned on the sofa and closed his eyes.
Melinda May just rolled her eyes at this flirt.
The aircraft adjusted course—sliding fully into S.H.I.E.L.D. surveillance airspace.
Time was running out.
One of the five stood up and slipped away.
The remaining four shifted positions.
James opened his eyes.
"Ahora," one of them barked to start.
They rushed over.
Two came at James, in swift coordination. One aimed high, the other low.
James didn't even get serious with these amateur moves.
He caught both of their wrists mid-strike and twisted them sharply. Their bones and joints received excruciating pain that dropped them to one knee instantly. They struggled and used their other hands to pry James' hand, trying to break free.
Nearby, May showed why she is called the Cavalry. She seized the high attacker's arms, leapt and wrapped her legs around the second man's head, and rolled. Both hit their head on the floor hard, enough to knock them unconscious.
James released his grip and struck both of the idiots' temples hard enough to jostle their brains and knock them out cold. He didn't look back.
LAB LEVEL
The lab door rattled violently.
Inside, Fitz's hands were shaking and sweaty as he raised the stun weapon. Simmons searched desperately for anything usable. Skye gripped a wrench with white knuckles.
When James came down, the Peruvian police officer who was smashing the door was surprised to see him, then took a boxing stance, ready to fight James.
James walked over slowly, straightening his cuffs and tie, then shaking his hands loose. Drawing close, the other party threw a right hook directly at him.
James easily side stepped, the fist just centimeters away from his face and then counter punched him in the stomach, and KO-ed him with a straight punch to the nose. His movements were clean and effortless. These people were not his opponent at all, and the other party obviously did not know his capabilities.
James straightened, unbothered.
"It's all clear," he said on the other side of the door.
The cleanup was simple.
After several controlled rounds with the woman in his office, Phil Coulson emerged composed and uninjured. By the time he reached the lower deck, every hostile aboard had already been subdued.
James had handled the annoying part—escorting them one by one into secured holding rooms.
The living area itself was oddly untouched. No overturned furniture and no visible damage. Just plates stacked high, with half-finished meals abandoned. Skye complained openly—she'd been the one forced to clean it all up.
The aircraft set down at a solar disposal base.
It was a containment and disposal facility—used exclusively for objects too dangerous to keep. The confiscated items were loaded into a launch system and sent into solar orbit, where nothing ever came back.
Nick Fury was already waiting.
James and Melinda May escorted the prisoners down the ramp for transfer.
"Agent James," Fury said, gripping his hand. "Long time no see. How's the team?"
"Not bad, but there's still a lot of work. A few rookies need to learn. Why are you here in person by the way?"
"Because some conversations shouldn't be recorded," Fury said, turning toward the aircraft. "Let's head inside Phil's office, it's safest there"
COULSON'S OFFICE
Phil Coulson was already inside.
The room is sealed. There were only three of them in the office.
Fury produced a compact scanning device and swept through the place before speaking.
"I've read the intelligence you recovered. You're planning to make a move on John Garrett through the Centipede Project."
"That's our only viable route," Coulson said. "That's all we can do for now, so as not to arouse suspicion. From the outside in, although the process will be troublesome and tortuous, we have no choice on the matter."
"Ever consider surveillance?" Fury asked. "Might be simpler."
James shook his head. "Garrett's an old agent. He knows every blind spot. His command of his men is remote-controlled. It's not easy to catch him. We have to plan slowly. It's best if we can draw him out. That's the ideal situation."
"That takes a lot of time. Not long ago, the World Security Council passed a new plan, Project Insight. The plan is to build three more Helicarriers and they will be fully armed. James, have you got any suggestions?" Fury dropped a worrying info.
James exhaled slowly. "So they finished replicating the Loom of Fate program. This program calculates all the people who are a threat to them and then uses the three Helicarriers to eliminate them."
"You're certain?" Phil Coulson asked.
"Yes," James said. "It's an imitation of a fate-projection logic. Identify future threats, then remove them pre-emptively."
Coulson frowned. "Do you think three Helicarriers could neutralize the Avengers?"
"I don't know what weapons they're planning to install," James replied. "But if they strike first, everyone loses. Especially us."
"Now, how could we stop the project?" Fury asked.
James hesitated. "Even if construction halted today, the hulls already exist. Politically, they won't scrap them."
Fury nodded grimly. "So two years. That's all it takes."
James stared. "Just two years?"
"We built multiple hulls simultaneously during the first phase," Fury said. "Assembly is the bottleneck. Not the construction."
James leaned back, silent for a moment. "Then we let them build. We just have to limit the weapons. S.H.I.E.L.D. isn't a war department. Helicarriers are for deployment, coordination, and emergency response—not mass execution."
Coulson raised an eyebrow. "You're calling New York a small event?"
"In strategic terms," James replied. "It was localized. Contained to a city. The worst-case scenario was avoided. A true invasion wouldn't stop at city blocks."
He continued, tone sharpening.
"Hydra will push Project Insight hard. Which means they'll be rushing it. They'll get nervous and that's our opening."
Fury narrowed his eyes. "Explain."
"When they think they've been discovered, they'll move first," James said. "Easily exposing themselves. That's when we hit the Hydra members in the headquarters. Then, we will publicize my ability to all S.H.I.E.L.D. Agents, which is to 'read minds' and scare all the remaining Hydra members in the branch office away."
Fury studied him carefully. "You're willing to reveal that?"
"Yes, just exposing my 'mind reading' minimizes casualties. This is our best solution." James said. "Although we can't catch all of them in one fell swoop, the people who escape will be exposed. When the time comes, we can slowly catch them. As long as S.H.I.E.L.D. keep their strength, we will succeed."
Silence followed.
Finally, Fury nodded. "I'll be the bait. I'll slow the weapons rollout and arrange your introductions with the World Security Council to find out the Hydra among them."
James met his gaze. "I'll identify the rot."