Natasha left before nine. Then she didn't show up for work the next day. Or the day after that.
'Is that what women do? Show up, fuck you, and abandon you?' Sebastian thought bitterly as he took another sip of tequila.
Drinking on the job was allowed when you were your own boss.
Still, what really bothered him was why she had stopped coming. He doubted she was dead. At her level, that was practically impossible. There were only two possibilities: either she'd completed her mission or something more important had come up.
By five on Friday afternoon, Sebastian was getting ready to close the shop. Sales had been decent. Word of mouth brought in more customers every day, and over the past few months, the place had grown quite busy, earning several thousand dollars a day.
Ding!
"I was closing," Sebastian said before turning around. "Oh, leather? Come to make that fantasy of yours come true?" he asked Natasha. "And you even brought someone to watch. Well, half-watch," he added, covering one eye to mock the man beside her.
Sebastian was a little drunk.
"We're here to talk," Natasha said.
"You were married? Your husband found out, and that's why you stopped coming?" He put a hand to his chest. "He forgave you? What a cuck."
"We're with the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division," the man introduced himself. Sebastian noticed a vein bulging on his forehead.
"Is that some kind of swingers' club?"
"We're an organization—"
"Sure, sure. I don't care about your club. If the baby's mine, I'll take responsibility, but I want a paternity test. Don't try to pin the whole thing on me, cuck."
Fury glanced at Natasha. She wore a complicated expression, somewhere between guilt and amusement.
"I'm not interested in your relationship with Natasha. I'm interested in your shop. In weapons that punch through heavy armor like paper, that have no recoil and weigh almost nothing." Fury stepped forward, refusing to take the bait. "I came here because Natasha said you were a reasonable man."
"Sorry, I don't swing that way," Sebastian replied.
"Son of a bitch," Fury snapped.
"Listen here, cuck." Sebastian took another swig of tequila. "Want some?" he asked. Natasha shook her head. Fury didn't react. "So, what kind of weapons do you want?"
"I want to know where you get these weapons. Who makes them."
"And what gives you the right to ask? Are you with the government?"
Natasha shook her head. "You could say that."
"It's not a swingers' club," Fury clarified.
"Right. Well, I've never heard of you. For all I know, you're a couple of thieves planning to kill my supplier."
"We should've just said we were with the FBI," Natasha told Fury.
"Shut up," Fury ordered. "Sebastian White. Twenty-two years old. Orphaned at five when your parents died in an accident. You were sent to an orphanage afterward, but you hated it and kept running away. You met Alfred Martin, who introduced you to firearms. You have very few friends, and it's been that way since high school and through college. You graduated with a degree in weapons engineering and turned down a position in the military." Fury recited his life in considerable detail.
Sebastian remembered very little from before he turned five, but everything else was remarkably accurate.
"Are you a fan?" Sebastian was starting to get a headache. Alcohol and an interrogation by a spy agency were not exactly an ideal combination.
Fury walked slowly toward him until they stood face-to-face. He wore a black trench coat and was a little shorter than Sebastian. The look in his one visible eye made it clear he was done playing games. A sober Sebastian might have found his presence a little intimidating.
But the drunk Sebastian burped in his face.
"SHIELD is an international espionage, intelligence, and counterterrorism agency responsible for protecting Earth from extraordinary threats. And right now, you and your weapons are proving to be one of those threats."
"A threat according to whom? Every weapon is a threat. Are you going to shut down every gun shop? My business has passed every inspection. If you want to buy something, you're welcome to. Otherwise, get out. It's closing time."
* * *
Fury clenched his fists. He hadn't managed to get his agents inside the place. If he had, they could have held this conversation in the man's own office. People were much easier to catch off guard somewhere they believed they were safe.
But the shop was impenetrable.
Fury cursed Natasha in his head. The reason he'd pulled her off the mission so early was that she'd become emotionally involved with the target. She could deny it all she liked, but the foolish way she smiled and how subtly she defended him told Fury everything he needed to know.
Ideally, they'd kill him and eliminate a potential threat.
But doing that could also mean eliminating a potential ally. A very important one.
Fury's interest in Sebastian came down to his weapons. They were impressive, certainly, but so far they weren't beyond anything SHIELD possessed. SHIELD had better weapons.
The extraordinary part was what happened when they tried to reverse-engineer them.
They couldn't figure them out. Their engineers said the technology was beyond the capabilities of the present day. A team of their best specialists had failed to replicate the weapons. That had led Fury to suspect Sebastian was modifying them himself, not with ordinary science, but perhaps with some kind of mutant ability.
Except he wasn't a mutant. Fury had analyzed DNA samples, courtesy of Natasha. There was no X-gene and no other unusual alteration in his genome. As far as the tests could tell, he was an ordinary human.
That made it quite possible Sebastian possessed technology beyond SHIELD's own, or at least had access to it. The weapons themselves were simple. The technology behind them wasn't. Given greater resources, how much more powerful could his creations become? Read this novel at novelping dot com for the best experience.
Fury swallowed his pride. This man could become a vital asset to SHIELD, especially now that Tony Stark had been kidnapped in the Middle East.
"I have an offer for you," Fury began slowly. "Join SHIELD."
"No thanks," Sebastian refused at once. "I already told you. If you want a weapon, buy one. But this is an independent business."
"I want you to design bigger things. More powerful things. Deadlier things."
"Wouldn't those be an 'extraordinary threat'?" Sebastian asked, taking another sip of tequila. "I'm afraid SHIELD might have to intervene."
"We're the good guys."
"According to whom?" Sebastian asked. "Weapons are dangerous, but the moment they're in your hands, they stop being dangerous? Who decided that?"
Fury had no time for moral debates. The world could fall apart from one day to the next, and having the best weapons available might help SHIELD prevent that.
"They'll be used for good."
"If you want weapons, you can buy them. Custom orders, modified weapons, whatever you like… There's no weapon I can't make. That's a business relationship. You pay me, I give you something, and we both win." Sebastian shrugged. "But if you want me to be your slave, you couldn't afford me."
"If you agree to cooperate, we'll give you wealth, technology…" Fury glanced at Natasha and stopped himself from adding women. "Status. Everything you could dream of. Your safety, and the safety of the people you care about, including Alfred, will be guaranteed."
"So… are you saying that if I don't cooperate, my safety and Alfred's won't be guaranteed?" Sebastian took another drink of tequila. Fury hadn't expected to be discussing this with a drunk. "Is that a threat?"
"No," Natasha said quickly.
Fury shot her a sidelong glance but said nothing.
"The price of my weapons just doubled for you… and any organization opposing SHIELD now gets a fifty-percent discount." Sebastian smiled.
Fury drew a gun and fired.
The pistol fell from his hand. Somehow, the bullet had struck him in the palm.
'What the fuck just happened?'
"The price just tripled." Sebastian was no longer smiling.
Give me Faaavs!