After installing the eardrum communicator, Hill reached into her briefcase once more and handed Marcus a small electronic chip card — a blue, metallic pass emblazoned with the S.H.I.E.L.D. eagle insignia. Aside from a barcode, it was otherwise blank.
Marcus turned the card over in his hand, his expression calm but curious. "Care to tell me what this is?"
Hill closed the case with a soft click before replying, "S.H.I.E.L.D. Level-3 Security Clearance Identification. Possession of this card officially recognizes you as a S.H.I.E.L.D. operative. It authorizes you to access classified data and restricted zones under our Level-3 protocols. Should you encounter high-ranking U.S. officers, this card will also verify your credentials — your rank is equivalent to a Major in the U.S. Army, though most standard soldiers won't be aware of it."
Marcus had already heard of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s tiered clearance system from Hawkeye. There were five levels in total.
Level 3, the one he now possessed, allowed access to surface-level classified files and moderately restricted areas — places such as the White House, Triskelion Headquarters, and other officially recognized facilities.
Level 4 — held by operatives like Hawkeye, Hill, Black Widow, and Tony Stark in his role as security consultant — granted deeper access. Holders could view most of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s sensitive data and enter locations the public didn't even know existed: the Illumination Program, Area 51, and other covert installations.
Above that was Level 5 — the highest clearance, reserved only for Director Nick Fury and the President of the United States. Holders of this level could access every classified project and strategic region in existence — including those whose exposure could shake the world: the Hope Town Experiments, the real Apollo Program, and, most notably, the Blacklight Project — the very secret Marcus was pursuing.
For him, rising through S.H.I.E.L.D.'s clearance ranks would only be beneficial. Each step brought him closer to uncovering the truth behind the Blacklight Virus — and gave him greater freedom to move through high-security zones.
If Marcus ever attained Level 5, even the hint of what he could expose would send Washington into chaos.
"Come with me," Hill said, interrupting his thoughts. "Before the operation begins, you'll need a proper combat uniform. Without one, our agents might mistake you for a civilian and drag you into an evacuation pod."
Marcus followed her through the metallic corridors of the Helicarrier's lower decks until they reached a large armory.
The walls were lined with weapons of every kind — rifles, launchers, and experimental tools. He even spotted Hawkeye's signature bows and arrow quivers, along with the heavy launcher Agent Coulson had once aimed at Loki during the Battle of New York. The level of S.H.I.E.L.D. technology was clearly far beyond conventional militaries.
"All right, Marcus. Step up there."
Hill gestured toward a large platform resembling a 3D printing station. S.H.I.E.L.D.'s method of outfitting operatives, it seemed, was anything but traditional.
As Marcus stepped into position, a column of blue light descended from above. The moment it touched him, his old clothes vanished, replaced instantly by a new form-fitting combat suit.
When the light faded, he stood clad in a sleek, dark-gray tactical stealth suit. Lightweight armor plates reinforced the joints without hindering mobility. Multiple concealed slots along the uniform's surface allowed him to carry specialized tools and weapons without bulk. A fitted mask covered the lower half of his face, obscuring his identity.
In that moment, Marcus looked like a living shadow — calm, deadly, and unreadable.
Hill circled him slowly, arms folded, her sharp eyes full of approval. "You trained under the Winter Soldier's assassination program, right? I figured this design would suit your skillset. And I was right — you look the part. But this isn't just for show."
She tapped the suit's sleeve. "The inner lining is reinforced with Kevlar for ballistic resistance. Between the layers is a PTFE expansion membrane and a nano-graphite coating. It blocks heat signatures and radar detection. To any scanner or drone, you'll be invisible."
Marcus nodded slightly. "Exactly what I needed."
He'd expected S.H.I.E.L.D. to position him as a covert operative based on his fabricated background. But this — this exceeded his expectations. For someone planning to manipulate both sides of an impending war, a stealth suit that allowed him to vanish at will was perfect.
He looked back at Hill with a faint smirk. "If I disappear in the field, how will you find me?"
"Your communicator is equipped with GPS tracking," Hill answered plainly. "We'll always know your location."
Marcus's smile didn't fade. "Good. Then I'll be sure to take care of it."
After all, in the chaos of battle, a malfunctioning transmitter was hardly unusual.
Hill placed another object on the table — a short-bladed dagger with an unusually thick handle and dull edge. "Take this," she said. "A non-lethal stun knife. It delivers a paralyzing shock strong enough to incapacitate most targets without killing them. I'm not saying you can't use lethal force, but… try to keep it minimal. Captain Rogers doesn't take kindly to unnecessary bloodshed. He prefers saving lives to taking them."
"I understand." Marcus slid the dagger into the sheath on his belt. To him, killing had never been the goal — only a means to an end. After all, the bloodbath that had set this entire chain of events in motion had begun with revenge. He'd learned his lesson: power was useful only when controlled.
That didn't mean he would hesitate when death became necessary.
Hill gave him a firm nod. "That's all you need to know. Take whatever you want from the armory — weapons, gadgets, anything that suits you. In ten minutes, all combat personnel are to assemble in the drop bay."
She paused at the doorway, glancing back at him with a faint grin.
"Get ready to make some noise out there, soldier."
With that, Hill turned and left the armory, her footsteps echoing down the steel corridor.
Marcus watched her go, then looked down at the blue clearance card in his hand — the key to the doors he'd soon be unlocking.
He slipped it into his suit pocket, his expression calm, his eyes sharp.
The game inside S.H.I.E.L.D. had only just begun.