Agent Hand recovered first. "Tell him to activate his satellite positioning. Dispatch a small boat. The submarine will extract him."
None of that mattered anymore.
James had already boarded the submarine.
There was no armor or excess of equipment.
Just a standard combat suit and a bulletproof vest.
He returned safely, heading back to Washington to take his long deserved leave.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
James finally returned to S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters, transferring from the submarine to the helicarrier in international waters. From there, he returned by Quinjet.
"James, how are you feeling? Did the mission go well?" Phil Coulson came to greet him. The others were still aboard the BUS. Melinda was keeping an eye on the three troublemakers.
"It was no problem at all, it did get tense, but not something I can't deal with," James replied. "Why don't I see anyone else?"
"Skye misled Fitz and Simmons," Coulson said calmly, a faint smile on his face. "They stunned Sitwell with a stun gun and hacked into S.H.I.E.L.D.'s database. I had a rather heated discussion with Agent Hand to smooth things over."
"Well," James sighed, "looks like I'll need to be stricter with Skye. It's not good if she keeps running wild and disobeying orders."
Back on the plane, James took out his gear from his internal storage and secured it properly for later maintenance. Then he headed up to the second-floor lounge.
The three rookies sat in a row. Melinda sat across from them, expression blank, reading a book.
The trio cheered when they saw James.
Not because he was back, but because their confinement was over.
"Alright," Coulson announced, "vacation's starting now. Keep your phones available twenty-four seven and be ready for emergency deployment."
He then left them there, having his own matters to deal with.
Coulson had been feeling sluggish lately. A medical check felt overdue, and there was Tahiti—his vacation memories were strangely short and fragmented. He had begun to wonder why.
Melinda left soon after. She had her own assignment—to keep watch over Coulson. Orders from Director Nick Fury in worry of his revival side effects.
"James, what are you going to do?" Skye leaned closer.
"Go back to my apartment in Washington," he replied casually. "Check on the company and stuff."
"Your apartment? Oh… right, you're a Billionaire," Skye said. "You probably have properties everywhere. Mind if I take a room?"
James looked at her with interest in her suggestion.
"It's a S.H.I.E.L.D. arranged private apartment they gave me which I would be staying in during my vacation. The bed's very large and cleaned regularly. I wouldn't mind if you want to sleep with me."
Skye's smile froze.
"Hmph!" She stood abruptly and stormed off to find Fitz and Simmons—likely to be disappointed. The two were already planning to use their vacation to explore new tech at headquarters.
James returned to his room, changed clothes, then requested a vehicle from the garage and left.
His Washington apartment hadn't been used in a while, but it was still maintained. Property management handled regular cleaning, though rooms left empty too long always felt slightly hollow.
He opened the windows to let in fresh air. Summer was approaching and League Championship season was coming again.
James pulled out his phone and called Kyle Robert. It had been over two years since he arrived in this world. The company was just a money-making tool. What he truly cared about was his strength which could sometimes require tons of money and connections, it could help prevent heroes from dying unnecessarily when war came.
"Kyle, how's the company doing?" James asked, sitting on the sofa with a drink he'd picked up on the way.
"Boss, you finally called," Kyle said dryly. "There are major decisions waiting on your desk."
"Oh?" James straightened slightly. "Start with current development."
"Our main product, Samira, now controls ninety percent of the U.S. real-time communication market. If growth continues at this pace, anti-trust concerns will surface. The government is encouraging us to go public soon. Also, our international partners want to raise financing and are asking for your opinion."
"Their financing doesn't concern us," James replied calmly. "Our contract clearly states our shares cannot be diluted. They're licensed to use Samira. If they attempt dilution, revoke authorization immediately. Be firm."
"Understood."
Most of those so-called partners were already extremely profitable. Financing would only reduce the shares held by the Alliance Games Company. These capitalists were being greedy. Even with a thirty percent dividend and nearly one-third ownership, they still wanted more.
Now Samira dominated their markets. Expansion wasn't necessary anymore.
If they wanted to fall out with him for more profit, James would welcome it.
"It's not impossible to start a public listing this early," James continued, "but the valuation would be lower than if we waited another year. The antitrust situation doesn't hold much weight—we're private and newly established. They're just pressuring us."
"Yes," Kyle agreed. "Major investment firms can't acquire our shares and they're growing impatient."
James chuckled. "Unless they offer a four-hundred percent premium, they can forget it. By the way, how's the company headquarter's construction?"
"Renovations are ongoing. Since we paid for continuous construction, the main structure is complete. Servers are already installed. The server room was simple to do. But the chairman's office on the top floor needs your personal opinions."
"That was fast," James said. "That's great, send me the design proposals. I'll pick one."
"Understood. And the share allocation?"
"You and Philip have done well. I'm granting you one percent. Non-transferable—dividends only. Philip gets half a percent under the same terms. Sell ten percent publicly, but split it strategically. Auction some to investment firms—focus on premium value. Keep eight-point-five percent as publicly listed shares."
"Got it, boss. You're going to be a real Billionaire soon."
"You too," James replied lightly. "Alright, that's it."
He hung up and thought for a moment. He did, technically, have an assistant.
He dialed again.
"Evelyn, how have you been doing?" James asked.
A wave of resentment came through the phone almost immediately.
"Boss, you finally remembered me?"
As a CIA agent, Evelyn Salt's objective of getting close to James hadn't progressed at all. He was nearly impossible to track down. This "boss" of hers treated his company like a side hobby, constantly busy with "work"—except that work was S.H.I.E.L.D. operations, not corporate leadership.
Did his mother know about him being an agent?
"Of course I remembered you," James said smoothly. "How could I forget our beautiful Evelyn? Now—about work. How's the project with Giles Marbury?"
"Everything's on schedule," she replied. "But he refuses to spend extra to accelerate construction. If it's scheduled for three years, it'll take three years. By then, property values will be even higher. Real estate works like that."
"I see," James said approvingly. "Looks like you've done your research on real estates, keep an eye on their accounts for any corruption. So how's my family?"
"They're fine," Evelyn replied. "But Mindy is very unhappy with you. She hasn't seen you for a long time now. She even said Anny doesn't recognize you anymore."
There was a subtle hint of accusation in her voice.
"I'll go back home when I have time," James said, then hung up.
The lingering resentment on the other end almost felt like a curse for being too busy.
He leaned back to clear his mind.
That left Tony Stark and Bruce Banner.
He dialed again.
"Yo Tony! How's life?"
"Sup," Tony answered. "You've vanished for a while. Is being an agent that fun?"
"Eh, ain't bad. Keeps life interesting," James replied. "How's the lab blueprint?"
"Relax. Once we finalized the design, construction gets started immediately. It's a quiet area outside Los Angeles. We're digging deep for the lab—since most of it is going to be underground. But the main structure's simple. It'll move fast once the digging is done."
"That's great to hear. Send me my share of the budget. I'm preparing to sell ten percent of my shares to major venture firms. I'll have liquidity soon. We'll split the lab expenses fifty-fifty."
"Oh, finally selling?" Tony laughed. "A shame the valuation's so high—I don't have enough liquidity to buy them. I'll send the invoice soon."
"You already own thirty percent. Why buy more? The company's just a wealth engine for me. Nothing important."
"A fair point. But about the lab—once the Avengers headquarters is done, you have to come over. Bruce's experiment will need your system expertise."
"No problem. I'll help Phil finish training his team fast. Once they mature to be fine agents, everything becomes easier."
Tony's tone shifted slightly.
"Is Phil alright? Does he know he died?"
"Not yet," James replied. "But he suspects something. Memory isn't a hard drive—you can't just overwrite it cleanly. It won't take long before he figures it out."
"Keep an eye on him," Tony said quietly. "We owe him."
"I will. Tell Bruce I said hello."
James ended the call and sat relaxed to clear his mind.
That was it.
Vacation officially began.
He had no idea what to do and is absolutely bored with all his free time.
He sat on the sofa, feeling oddly restless. Maybe it was occupational workaholism. He genuinely didn't know how to relax.
Washington wasn't exactly lively either. It was the capital with politics everywhere. He had zero interest in that.
He picked up the phone again and called Maria Hill.
No answer.
She seemed busy as always handling S.H.I.E.L.D.'s daily operations. Nick Fury seemed to be gradually handing control to her.
"It makes sense," James murmured to himself. "Once Hydra inside S.H.I.E.L.D. gets exposed, Fury won't survive the fallout politically. Someone has to take responsibility. He's the most suitable scapegoat to preserve the organization."
He understood.
His fling with Maria Hill was likely over.
But there's no regrets, instead why not dial Skye.
"I thought you said you'd accept my invitation to have dinner with me?"
"Sigh, alright, sure."
The immediate answer caught him off guard.
Then he realized why.
"Fitz and Simmons ditch you didn't they?"
"You figured it out," Skye said dryly. "I'm the only one on the BUS. Everyone else left. It's sooooo boring. If I'd known earlier, I would've gone to your place. At least I'd have a sofa to sleep on."
"You haven't considered the bed?" James asked casually.
"Mm-hm. Yeah no, you're still a maybe."
James paused—then burst out laughing.
"It's rare for me to enter Miss Skye's evaluation," he said cheerfully. "I'd better perform well. You better get ready. I'll pick you up in an hour."
He groomed himself and took his time to also give time for Skye to get ready before heading to the garage and driving out.
Soon after, he was back at S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters.
When he came to the BUS to pick her up, he was left staring as she got out.
He'd been in this world for over two years, with his wealth, he'd learned how to enjoy life.
She came to him in casual clothes, with barely any make up, 'was this going to be a casual fast-food date? I should have remembered that it's impossible for her to have any fancy dresses during our missions'
"James to earth, are you there?" Skye asked, slightly uneasy.
"Ah yeah yeah," James said with a grin and in a gentlemanly bow. "Thank you, Lady Skye, for giving me this opportunity—one that I absolutely will make sure you don't regret."
She looked at him in confusion but followed anyway.
'Seems like I have to change the plans for our date'
The vehicle was a standard S.H.I.E.L.D. SUV, it had great stability and was not too noticeable. James had considered buying something flashier, but realistically, he had no time to drive it and just leaving it in his temporary S.H.I.E.L.D. apartment in Washington is truly just a waste. The Quinjet certainly couldn't carry it.
They drove towards a more rural place with middle class and lower people go.
Local shops, a worn out basketball court, and ordinary people just hanging around the streets.