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The team set off into the Italian countryside, their objective: Ian Quinn's villa.
Realizing the importance of this mission, Coulson had deployed everyone. Even Simmons and Fitz, who usually stayed safe in the lab, were in the field. It was an "all hands on deck" situation.
Hermione, bored out of her mind, remained on the Bus. She sat in the command center with her feet on the console, flipping through Skye's tablet. It was filled with files on C++ syntax, encryption algorithms, and Rising Tide manifesto drafts.
"Can't read," Hermione muttered, tossing the tablet aside.
She understood code, but only up to the "Hello World" part. Why learn Python when you can speak Parseltongue?
Not long after, the cargo bay ramp lowered with a hydraulic hiss.
Coulson and Ward walked in. Their tactical uniforms were covered in dust and grime, and Ward had a tear in his sleeve. They looked disheveled and frustrated.
"The extraction didn't go smoothly," Coulson stated, wiping soot from his forehead. "Quinn has security we didn't anticipate."
Ward was holding a round, complex metal component. It looked like the heart of a high-tech engine, glowing faintly with blue light.
They walked quickly to the large holographic projection table in the center of the room and placed the device on the glass surface.
"This is it," Coulson said urgently, pressing a button to activate the room's sensors. "Fitz said this component is the key. Once we understand what this does, we'll know where they moved the rest of the shipment."
He nodded to Ward. "Pull up the schematics. I need to clean this wound."
Ward nodded seriously. "On it, sir."
Coulson walked away to the medical kit.
Ward stood in front of the table. He looked at the device. He looked left. He looked right. He looked completely bewildered.
Hermione squinted at him from her chair, slowing down her consumption of popcorn.
Ward reached out and swiped a few times on the air above the interface.
"Holographic desktop, activate."
Nothing happened.
"Holographic desktop... start," Ward tried again, deeper voice this time.
Silence.
Ward: "..."
Hermione: "..."
A crow seemed to fly through the high-tech interior of the Bus, cawing mockingly.
After fumbling for a solid minute, poking the glass like a confused ape, Ward finally found a physical switch on the side.
CLICK.
The holographic imaging platform hummed to life. A pale blue light screen projected upwards, scanning the device and displaying a complex 3D wireframe of its internal structure.
"Oh," Ward muttered. "So I need to press the power button."
Coulson returned, wiping his arm with an alcohol pad. He assumed Ward had been working the whole time.
"Well done, Agent Ward! That was fast."
Ward puffed out his chest, looking smug. "Just standard procedure, sir."
"Zoom in on this area," Coulson pointed to a sector of the schematic. "Let's see if we can identify the chemical payload."
Ward frowned. He tapped the air. He pinched his fingers. He swiped.
The screen flickered. Instead of zooming in, the schematic flipped upside down.
"No, it's this gesture..." Ward muttered, trying a two-handed twist.
The image shrank until it was the size of a pea.
"No... I remember Fitz did it this way..." Ward tried to expand it, but accidentally opened the weather app.
Coulson stepped in. "Let me try."
The two elite agents stood before the multi-million dollar computer, poking and swiping like two grandfathers trying to use an iPhone. They were sweating profusely.
"Damn it," Ward growled, annoyed. "How do I use this thing? Why isn't there a mouse?"
"Calm down, Ward," Coulson said, wiping his brow. "Where's the manual? Fitz usually handles the UI."
Hermione watched from the side, shaking her head. The secondhand embarrassment was physically painful.
She put down her popcorn, dusted off her hands, and walked over.
"Make way, make way," she sighed, roughly pushing the two grown men aside. "You're embarrassing yourselves."
She stood in front of the control panel.
Coulson and Ward watched, stunned, as Hermione's slender fingers danced across the light screen.
Swipe. Pinch. Rotate. Isolate.
Her movements were fluid and precise. She navigated the complex OS like she had written it herself.
On the light screen, the schematic expanded, rotated, and dissected itself. The core data storage unit and the chemical dispersal mechanism were clearly marked, magnified, and cross-referenced with S.H.I.E.L.D.'s database.
The whole process took four seconds.
Coulson and Ward stared at her, their mouths slightly agape.
"Hermione," Coulson gasped, "you actually know about this high-tech stuff? I thought... you know... magic candles and parchment?"
Hermione stopped and gave him a withering look.
"I'm a wizard, Phil, not a savage who just crawled out of a cave!"
Her voice rose, annoyed. "Do you know who my tech support is? Tony Stark. His house is overflowing with these holographic toys. I could use the latest Mark 42 interface with my eyes closed. This?"
She gestured to the S.H.I.E.L.D. table. "This is an antique. It's running Windows Vista. Who do you think you are?"
Coulson and Ward blushed. The shame burned deep. A seasoned spy from the technological world couldn't work the zoom function, while the girl who rode dragons was teaching them IT.
Coulson cleared his throat, trying to salvage some dignity. "Well done, Hermione. Efficient."
He pointed to the enlarged core unit. "However, just looking at the structure isn't enough. We need to know the specific purpose. The energy readings are strange; they don't match conventional explosives."
Hermione shook her head. "I can't read the chemical composition from a hologram. But I know a guy."
She pulled out her smartphone—a sleek, heavily modified StarkPhone—and dialed a number.
The call connected instantly. A lazy, arrogant voice came through the speakers.
"Hello? Who dares disturb the genius while he's... resting his eyes?"
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Get up, Tin Man. Get to work."
The voice on the other end perked up instantly.
"Oh? The Magical Girl? What a rare guest! So, you've sorted out that London mess? I heard you were fighting space elves with dragons? You didn't even invite me! That's rude, Granger. I have a new suit I wanted to test."
"By the time you flew over in your tin can," Hermione retorted, "half the Earth would be dark matter. You're too slow."
"Hey! The Mark 42 is supersonic! You think everyone can just teleport?" Tony Stark argued back. "So, what trouble do you have now? Need me to hack the Pentagon again?"
"It's not my problem," Hermione said, glancing at the two embarrassed agents. "It's S.H.I.E.L.D. They found a toy they don't understand. They need an adult."
"Ah, the Boy Scouts," Tony scoffed. "Send the data."
Hermione swiped the data from the table to her phone.
Silence for a few seconds.
"Hmm... interesting," Tony's voice came back, sharp and analytical. "It's a chemical release device. But the dispersal mechanism is... familiar."
"It's done," Tony announced. "This is a Neurotoxin Diffusion Device. Large scale. It's designed to induce immediate, comatose paralysis."
Coulson's face darkened instantly.
"A neurotoxin diffusion device?" he whispered. "Like the Night-Night Gun? Like Fitz's design? But on a massive scale?"
"Why would Ian Quinn have that?" Ward asked, a shadow crossing his face.
Hermione hung up the phone. "Isn't it obvious? He's selling it. Or using it."
"Aren't you going to arrest him right now?" she asked relaxed. "Once you catch him, just ask him directly. Use a truth serum. Or a hammer."
BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.
The emergency comms rang.
Coulson answered immediately. "May?"
"Coulson!"
Melinda May's voice came through, urgent and breathless. The sound of gunfire and shouting echoed in the background.
"May? Status report! Do you have Quinn?" Coulson's heart tightened.
"We have Quinn in custody!" May shouted. "But the mission is compromised!"
She paused, her voice cracking.
"Skye has been shot. Two bullets to the stomach. She's bleeding out. We need immediate medical evac! Now!"