21: Chapter 21: For the Great Cause of S.H.I.E.L.D.
21: Chapter 21: For the Great Cause of S.H.I.E.L.D.
Chapter 21: For the Great Cause of S.H.I.E.L.D.
Tony, thick-skinned as always, flashed a peace sign for the cameras, completely unbothered.
Hawk’s smile never wavered.
Natasha, meanwhile, played the perfect arm candy, keeping a poised smile as if the sarcastic remarks had gone right over her head, though a cold gleam flickered deep in her eyes.
The elevator doors slid shut behind them, cutting them off from the floors below.
On the top floor, the scent of champagne seemed laced with gunpowder.
Hawk steered clear of Norman entirely and smoothed things over with the other guests.
He did not even need Shin Si-ah to tell him that Norman Osborn’s genetic disease was already in its final stages.
Otherwise, the founder of a top conglomerate, a battle-hardened shark who had spent his life in the cutthroat business world, would never make a fool of himself like some shallow college kid.
The suffocating standoff by the elevator doors outside the top-floor banquet hall was still fresh in everyone’s minds.
Natasha Romanoff, however, had already slipped away from the party, shed the glamour, and changed into a black tactical suit made for movement, her red hair tied back simply.
She sat in Coulson’s car, reporting to Nick Fury aboard a distant Quinjet over a highly encrypted channel.
“Target is Hawk.” Natasha’s voice was calm and professional, with none of the charm from the dinner party or the tension from the elevator.
“He not only saw straight through my cover as Natalia Romanova, international intelligence broker, but more importantly…” Natasha paused, and that pause silenced the other end of the line.
“He knows beyond any doubt that I am a S.H.I.E.L.D.
agent.
And, Director, he knows you exist.
He knows you are the Director of S.H.I.E.L.D., Nicholas Joseph Fury.” Inside the Quinjet: Fury’s sharp gaze seemed to pierce through the screen and pin Natasha in place.
His knuckles whitened as he gripped the control console.
Coulson, sitting beside Natasha, drew a sharp breath and instinctively sat up straighter, disbelief written all over his face.
“He even knows my full name?” Fury’s voice was low.
“I want the exact wording, Natasha.
Word for word.” “His exact words were: ‘But if S.H.I.E.L.D.
is interested in my “luck,” Director Fury could just invite me for coffee.
Why send the famous Black Widow to my bed?'” Natasha recited Hawk’s words from the elevator with perfect clarity, every syllable precise.
“He said my codename outright, your full name, and the name of the organization.” The jet went dead silent except for the low rumble of the engines.
Fury slowly leaned back in his seat, his one eye fixed on Natasha on the comm screen as if he were processing this shocking news.
Coulson looked both uncertain and alarmed.
“This goes way beyond our assessments!
Director, should we take action?” Fury was silent for a moment, his fingers tapping unconsciously on the console, a familiar sign that his mind was racing.
Then his gaze refocused on Natasha’s face.
“Agent Romanoff, midway through the dinner party, your communicator signal went completely dark for two hours and seven minutes.
Explain.” His voice carried the authority of a mission debriefing.
Natasha’s expression didn’t change, but the comm feed seemed to freeze briefly for three seconds.
Even Coulson held his breath as he looked at her.
*Had she really been doing Smith squats that whole time?* Natasha raised an eyebrow, her voice still steady and professional, with a hint of matter-of-fact calm.
“Director, the communicator went silent because I was inside the core security zone of Lane Tower at the time.
Any active transmission would have been detected and traced by its internal shielding system, which would have drastically increased the risk of exposure.
Maintaining radio silence is required by standard covert protocols.” She paused as if she were simply stating an objective fact, then continued, “As for the specifics, as noted in the mission report, it was ‘necessary contact’ to earn the target’s trust, establish a dedicated channel, and conduct a close-range assessment.
Hawk himself clearly treated it as a…
‘warm-up’ before negotiations.
That phase of the operation is what made it possible to obtain the intelligence he has on S.H.I.E.L.D.” She phrased it as euphemistically as possible, carefully avoiding any direct description, but the phrases “establish a dedicated channel,” “necessary contact,” “close-range assessment,” and “warm-up,” combined with those two missing hours, made the meaning all too clear.
Coulson coughed tactfully and let his gaze drift toward the plane’s window.
A rare speechless look flickered briefly across the dark face of the S.H.I.E.L.D.
director, a man known for his coldness and control.
Of course he understood what Natasha meant.
For the mission, for the sake of S.H.I.E.L.D., she had gone at it with Hawk for two full hours.
And from the sound of it, Hawk had led that “warm-up” and used the opportunity to fully show his hand.
A few seconds of silence passed, and the atmosphere inside the jet grew heavy.
Fury’s fingers stopped tapping.
“The target…
how did he perform during the ‘warm-up’?” Fury finally asked, his tone calm again, but the question was sharp and crucial, since it would shape how they further assessed Hawk’s physical and psychological state.
He needed to know whether Hawk, in that situation, had been prey with his guard down or a hunter in complete control.
Natasha answered without a trace of hesitation.
“He stayed clearheaded the whole time, fully in control, and his vigilance never wavered for a second.
Director, it was more like a…
stress test he was running.
It further confirmed that the neurotoxin perfume has no effect on him.” Understanding and deeper wariness flickered in Fury’s one good eye.
*Just as expected.* Even in a moment like that, Hawk’s mind had stayed ice cold and clear, and he had used Natasha as a stage for his own display of power.
Then Fury moved on to the next key point.
“During that ‘close-range assessment,’ Agent Romanoff, describe the target’s physiological characteristics, small habitual movements, unconscious preferences, reactions to specific stimuli…
anything.
Even the most minute, seemingly insignificant details.” CREATORS’ THOUGHTS larsen051 Creation is hard, cheer me up!