Rejoining the U.S. intelligence system had one major benefit: the legal authority to monitor the global internet and access any desired content—just like the old days. Whether it was public or private surveillance cameras, keywords on social media, or even every data terminal (even if not connected to the internet), everything could be accessed using permissions granted through the S.H.I.E.L.D. database. It was completely legal—even if the public wouldn't accept it, Congress had quietly passed the resolutions. The PRISM program exposed by Snowden had only scratched the surface of the CIA's cyber intelligence network; every other agency had its own version.
The Undying City had once held access credentials for two advanced learning-capable AIs—Samaritan included—that they used to scan the internet. But those credentials had long since expired and become illegal. Now they could only gain access through system vulnerabilities. S.H.I.E.L.D., although lacking high-level AI screening tools, didn't need to take such complicated steps, making intelligence acquisition significantly faster.
So, once Agent Coulson identified Robbie Reyes, Elias Morrow and South Ridge Prison soon followed. Mike had known nothing about Elias, but when he saw the footage retrieved by S.H.I.E.L.D., he realized that Wanda Maximoff—representing the Undying City—had already taken the lead. He glanced around nervously and, seeing that the newly joined S.H.I.E.L.D. researchers were busy with their own work, he quietly exhaled in relief.
Agent Coulson had used Jemma Simmons' credentials to access the footage (having lost some clearance after the leadership change), and then he casually entered the system backend and deleted the access logs. Jemma had gone home early to her small rented apartment and had taken leave to go house hunting the next day after spotting a promising ad.
Mike knew Coulson's recent actions violated multiple S.H.I.E.L.D. protocols—many of which Coulson himself had written—but he hadn't even blinked while breaking them, suggesting it wasn't the first time. Mike couldn't imagine how Coulson ever passed the lie detector tests—S.H.I.E.L.D.'s system incorporated microexpression analysis. The system, developed before the Hydra uprising, used 212 facial indicators for assessment. Just one unnatural blink could reveal a lie. Maybe Coulson had left himself a backdoor. No one knew how he pulled it off—or why. Still, Mike felt a sliver of comfort: Coulson hadn't completely handed S.H.I.E.L.D. over.
It wasn't that Mike disliked the new director—he just didn't trust Congress or politicians.
"We can't let the Undying City act alone, Mike. No one can guarantee that Salomon's forces won't cause collateral damage while handling this mess. You know how they operate. Remember the East Coast quake?" Coulson spoke softly. His usual earnest expression made it hard not to believe him. "I know this is beyond S.H.I.E.L.D.'s capabilities now, but our job isn't just to fix problems. It's to protect people. Civilian casualties are unacceptable. S.H.I.E.L.D. must be different from the Hydra-run past. We must stand for life and justice, unlike any other U.S. intelligence agency."
He gave Mike time to think. It wasn't long, but it was enough for Mike to weigh his options.
"I'm asking you to join me on Zephyr One. Let's go protect the innocents who shouldn't die. This mission will be completely scrubbed—flight logs buried in Zephyr's patrol routes. The crates Fitz is studying will be the only remaining trace. Our new director won't even know the Undying City or Salomon exist."
"Oh, shit. You're really close to convincing me, Coulson. Looks like you've got it all figured out." Mike was breathing like a bull, "But I want a promise—if things get out of control, you have to call the Avengers. I know Fury gave you a way to contact them. I want the Avengers on standby. We're dealing with super-soldiers, witches, demons, and ghosts—that's Avenger territory."
"I promise. I've got Tony Stark's contact info. He already knows I'm alive again," Coulson said. "But I'm also thinking of reaching out to Captain America. You know… big fan and all… Damn, they even kept my trading card set. I don't know whether to be honored or embarrassed."
"Give me twenty minutes. I haven't checked in with Yo-Yo yet."
Coulson raised an eyebrow. "Yo-Yo just came back from a party in Miami. She doesn't look too happy."
"I know why." Mike's voice was thick and heavy, like freshly cooled volcanic basalt. With one poisonous gust of wind, magma and smoke would seep through the cracks. Coulson recognized the tone—he understood every team member's emotional tells. But he wasn't a microexpression expert. He'd only taken the required course. He couldn't read Mike's mind.
"I'll be there soon."
"Make it quick. Fuel's topped off, and we've got gear that needs loading," Coulson nodded, saying no more. Relationships between agents could be risky, but Coulson trusted Mike to handle it. S.H.I.E.L.D. was a family—but that referred to his original team, not the newcomers. They shared a bond that felt like sharing lives. Everyone would give everything for the others. That's why Daisy's disappearance had cut so deep—it felt like betrayal.
"Especially your axe-shotgun. Logistics packed you a few extras. Also your beer. Ground crew doesn't haul beer."
"Self-harming tendencies. Not common for someone just waking from a vegetative state," Constantine said as he scanned the patient on the hospital bed with a device. He still hadn't removed his helmet. His ornate armor looked completely out of place in the dim room, and he had to stoop so his head didn't hit the ceiling.
"Not necessarily. When patients wake from deep comas, they realize their life has been folded over. To them, it feels like just a nap. But to everyone else, they were a corpse. They wake up to find the girl they liked married to someone else, their family shattered, and themselves aged from youth to middle age… That's a crushing realization. Many spiral. Self-harm is pretty common. But since vegetative awakenings are rare, the psych studies on post-recovery are few."
"Joseph Bauer was given a pretty high dose of sedatives." Constantine lifted the restrained arm, checking for signs. "Finger marks. He struggled hard. No signs of awakening were in his file. This was sudden. Something woke him up."
"Lucy Bauer. One of the missing spirit entities," Nick Fury mused. "But she didn't just come to visit her comatose husband—no way. There's only one possibility—"
"—She's looking for that book. Joseph Bauer knows where it is." Constantine pulled a needleless high-pressure injector from a magnetic pouch on his belt. "So he'd better wake up."
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