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To know what is happening, let's go back 3 hours ago.
In the restaurant,
"Natasha, be a good girl and call Fury for me. I have a proposal for him," said Luke, his tone casual but carrying that dangerous edge that made the blood-soaked room feel even heavier.
Luke wasn't the type to mess with someone without reason. He wasn't looking for fights, wasn't trying to start wars.
But if someone dared to mess with him—if someone laid a hand on him or tried to chain him down—he would annihilate them without mercy. Hydra had just crossed that line. And now, Luke had decided, Hydra would pay in full. He would wipe those disgusting scum off the map.
For once, the Black Widow didn't know what to do. Her instincts said contain the situation, deescalate the threat. This was a man whose power she couldn't measure, sitting in a chair like a king in the middle of hell.
She felt Luke now was different from the playboy she talked to yesterday.
Yesterday, he looked like just another cocky man with too much confidence and too much charm. But now… now there was something else in him. Something cruel. Something that didn't belong in the same category as the people she usually dealt with.
Her hand hesitated at her comms earpiece.
"...Fury won't like this," Natasha finally said, her voice low, uncertain if she was warning him or Luke.
Luke leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, eyes locking with hers. The smirk never left his face.
"Good. Then he'll listen."
She tapped her comms and opened a direct channel.
"This is Romanoff. I need Director Fury, priority one."
Static cracked for a moment, then a sharp voice cut through.
"Romanoff? Report. What is the status of the target?"
Natasha's eyes lingered on Luke. He sat there calm, almost amused, raising his brows like he was waiting for a formal introduction.
"He's right here," Natasha said carefully. "And… he has a proposal for you."
There was silence on the other end. Static crackled faintly before Fury's voice returned, harder now.
"Romanoff. Put him on."
Natasha hesitated, then tossed the communicator toward Luke. He caught it with one hand, leaning back in his chair like he owned the room.
"Director Fury," Luke said smoothly, his voice steady through the line. "Your little spy here does her job well. But what I'm about to say will shake the core of S.H.I.E.L.D."
"Go on," Fury replied, measured and cautious.
Luke's lips curved into a thin smile. "I have a proposal. If you cooperate, both you and S.H.I.E.L.D. will walk away the winners."
"But before that, you need to know something," Luke said, his tone calm but edged with weight. "The people who are dead here… they were S.H.I.E.L.D. agents."
There was a long pause. Then Fury's voice came back, sharper now.
"I didn't order my agents to mess with you," Fury said, making his stance clear. He wasn't looking for a fight—not yet.
"Fury, you're misunderstanding." Luke leaned forward, his gaze fixed on Natasha as he spoke. "Yes, they were S.H.I.E.L.D. agents. But they weren't acting under your orders. Check their identities—you'll see for yourself."
He tossed the communicator back to Natasha. She caught it quickly, listening in silence for a moment before pulling out her phone.
She moved through the ruined room, snapping clear photos of each fallen body. The blood, the broken tables, the stillness—it all went into her report without comment.
Two minutes later, the reply came through. Natasha's brow furrowed as she read, then she turned and handed the communicator back to Luke.
"Tell me," said Fury at last, his voice lower now, the weight of authority laced with confusion. They were indeed S.H.I.E.L.D. agents—he had already gotten confirmation. But he hadn't ordered them.
That was the part gnawing at him. He was the Director of S.H.I.E.L.D., and every sanctioned move went through him. Yet somehow, his own agents had made a move on the target behind his back.
He knew there was something weird going on—he had begun to suspect it since the day he became Director. Subtle things at first: reports rerouted without his sign-off, agents showing up in the wrong places with the wrong intel.
Now this incident cemented his idea. There was someone else in the shadows, someone pulling strings from higher up. How else could a team of his agents mobilize and come here without his notice? This wasn't just bureaucracy or a rogue officer; this was organized, deliberate.
Fury's jaw tightened. Whoever was behind this had reach deep enough to bypass him, and that meant S.H.I.E.L.D. wasn't just compromised—it was infiltrated.
"Director Fury," Luke said, almost gently, though the smile on his lips carried no kindness. "That's exactly why I called this a proposal. You didn't send them. Which means someone else did—someone who can order your agents without you knowing."
"Hydra," said Luke, his voice calm but sharp like a blade cutting through the silence.
Fury, who heard this, was shocked. Hydra? That name belonged to the history books—an organization long thought dead, crushed alongside the Red Skull during World War II.
"Hydra is still there, but now within S.H.I.E.L.D," Luke continued, his eyes steady. "And their current leader… is Alexander Pierce."
Fury's hand tightened on the comm device. On the other side, he was silent. Pierce wasn't just a superior—he was one of the World Security Council, the man who had vouched for Fury when he became Director of S.H.I.E.L.D.
Pierce had influence, credibility, and political power. To even think of him as Hydra was unthinkable… and yet Luke spoke it like fact.
"What proof do you have?" asked Fury, his voice low, testing Luke, but also betraying a flicker of unease.
"I have one plan," said Luke with a smile.
The plan was simple, the oldest trick in the book: to trap any beast, you place bait. You lure it out of the shadows, let it believe it has won, and then strike when it reveals itself.
And in this case, the bait… was Luke himself.
The trap was for Alexander Pierce.
All they had to do was act. Pretend Luke was caught, bound, and helpless. Fury would calmly report it as if it were routine S.H.I.E.L.D. business, nothing more. And if Pierce showed up in person to "inspect" the prisoner… that would be all the proof they needed.
Luke had been certain Pierce wouldn't resist. Hydra's hunger for power was like a moth to flame. And if Pierce truly was what Luke suspected, then the temptation of capturing him would be irresistible.