"I never thought enhanced healing would lead to this."
Coulson muttered under his breath, his dagger slicing precisely into the bullet's lodging spot.
Normally, you'd probe a bit below the wound to find the bullet, but his had already healed over, forcing him to tear it open again.
Talking to himself was just a way to distract from the pain.
Maybe this was the legendary "distraction bullet-removal technique," but this safehouse lacked a projector. Coulson was stuck with the unfinished version.
On his way here, he'd been hyper-vigilant, dodging every pair of eyes to reach the safehouse undetected.
The trip was so smooth it felt like someone was watching his back.
But things didn't look good. If even he was ambushed by Hydra agents, S.H.I.E.L.D. was basically under their control.
"Now what do I do?"
Coulson let out a long breath, extracting the bullet and holding it like a peanut.
Maybe it was the pain, but he felt lost, like he'd misplaced his purpose.
Outside, things were happening he couldn't know about. He might not even see the person Fury sent to find him.
Rumlow screeched to a stop near the safehouse, spotting another agent team.
He recognized the leader—Tess, a former subordinate.
Perfect. He could grill her about what Pierce had planned for him.
His car whipped into a slick drift, halting right in front of Tess's face.
"Tess, what's going on?"
Rumlow's voice was stern, one hand already on the axe at his waist.
"Captain? Weren't you killed by a dum-dum bullet?"
Tess froze, her hand inching toward the gun strapped to her thigh.
"Who said that?"
Rumlow's brow furrowed.
"Our team got a patchy signal from your tracker, saying, 'Watch out for those old soldiers, they might've figured something out.' Then it cut off. That wasn't you?"
Tess was clearly thrown.
"When was this?"
Rumlow stepped out of the car.
"Five days ago."
Tess answered without hesitation.
Five days ago?
That was right after he'd dealt with the angel and hell business. He'd been to S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters since—no way he'd be listed as dead.
"Be specific. Do I need to teach you how to report?"
Rumlow's tone hardened, brimming with aggression.
"Five nights ago, three hours after you left headquarters."
Tess's hand slipped behind her back, signaling her team.
Rumlow squinted, studying her flawless poker face.
"Take me to S.H.I.E.L.D. now."
"Captain, you're on the deceased list. I'll take you to the boss, but you've gotta hand over all your weapons."
Tess's request sounded reasonable, but Rumlow sensed malice—not from her, but from somewhere else.
"Fine. I need to know what's going on."
Rumlow unholstered his backup pistol and handed it over.
"Your stone and those brass knuckles too, Captain."
Tess was eager, unaware of Rumlow's gains from his second trip to Mount Harrogath. She only knew about the outdated knuckles and spirit stone.
Rumlow pulled the knuckles from under his arm, along with the spirit stone, and handed them over.
"Let's go to S.H.I.E.L.D."
Tess pocketed the gear, planning to try them out later.
She hadn't lied about Rumlow's situation.
Rumlow's mind raced, piecing together who'd reported his death to Hydra.
Or who'd been tracking him, sending a message to spark a fight between S.H.I.E.L.D. and Pierce's Hydra faction.
He and Tess headed for S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters. The plan had shifted.
Rumlow now had a shot to confront Pierce directly.
Meanwhile, Coulson, holed up in the safehouse, didn't know the Hydra team outside had been replaced by a squad in yellow hazmat suits—"Beekeepers."
They'd planned to wipe out the Hydra agents and "rescue" Coulson.
But now, that step was unnecessary.
Advanced Idea Mechanics, A.I.M.
Originally a spinoff from Hydra's tech division, they'd split over ideological differences, becoming enemies.
Their mad scientists kept A.I.M. technologically ahead of S.H.I.E.L.D.
And they were the first to uncover Rumlow's plan.
The discovery thrilled them.
They weren't waiting for Rumlow's scheme to unfold slowly, so they fanned the flames of conflict between Hydra and S.H.I.E.L.D.
Now, they aimed to give Coulson a little "help," hoping he'd rally S.H.I.E.L.D.'s non-Hydra members under a new leader.
Ideally, S.H.I.E.L.D. and Hydra would destroy each other, letting A.I.M. operate openly again.
But at their headquarters, a horrifying experiment was wrapping up, poised to reshape A.I.M. entirely.
A creature—practically a head sprouting limbs—was tearing through their base.
As their test subject, he'd gained superhuman strength and intellect. His first act? Seizing control of A.I.M.
Hydra vs. A.I.M.? He didn't care. He wanted revenge and to use A.I.M.'s tech to restore his original form.
M.O.D.O.K.
Today was the birth of M.O.D.O.K.!
The Beekeeper field team, oblivious to the chaos at HQ, was knocking on Coulson's safehouse door.
They came off like they were delivering a care package.
For S.H.I.E.L.D., they kind of were.
But their "care" aimed to topple both Hydra and S.H.I.E.L.D.—or at least crush Hydra and weaken S.H.I.E.L.D.
Under S.H.I.E.L.D.'s influence, A.I.M. had been forced underground for too long.
Coulson, gun in one hand, cautiously opened the safehouse door. A squad in yellow hazmat suits stood there, weapons raised.
He snapped his gun up, aiming at them.
The Beekeepers showed no hostility.
They placed a walkie-talkie-like device on the ground, turned, and left his range without looking back.
No hesitation, no words—just gone.
Coulson felt his hairline receding further.
(End of Chapter)
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