“Who are you?
I don’t know any Whitehall.
You’ve got the wrong person.” Wearing large-rimmed glasses and a sharp suit, Sitwell looked like a successful businessman.
Although he worked in administration, he was still an agent and possessed the vigilance expected of one.
Without hesitation, he dismissed Daisy’s claim.
This was exactly what Daisy had expected.
She spoke as though reading directly from a classified file.
“In 1945, in Austria, after Mr.
Whitehall was arrested, the obelisk he had devoted his life to studying fell into S.H.I.E.L.D.’s hands.
He needs you to use your clearance to retrieve it from one of S.H.I.E.L.D.’s classified storage facilities.” Hidden inside the obelisk was the Terrigen Crystal, but it could only be opened under very specific conditions.
Neither HYDRA nor S.H.I.E.L.D.
knew the truth.
After studying it unsuccessfully for fifty years, they had shelved the project entirely.
“The obelisk?” Sitwell had never heard of it, but he had already reached one conclusion: the caller was connected to HYDRA.
Even if she was lying, anyone who knew about Whitehall could not be ignored.
“Consider this a favor from Mr.
Whitehall.
I’ll call again later.
Hail HYDRA.” With that, Daisy ended the call and immediately erased every trace of her digital footprint.
Almost instinctively, Sitwell straightened his posture and quietly replied, “Hail HYDRA,” only to realize the line had already gone dead.
As an Indian American who had managed to secure mid-level positions in both S.H.I.E.L.D.
and HYDRA, Sitwell was neither short-sighted nor unintelligent.
Among HYDRA’s fanatics—those willing to die rather than betray the organization—he was an unusual exception.
In the original timeline, Captain America threatened him only once before he revealed everything he knew.
His loyalty was remarkably fragile.
Unlike HYDRA’s senior leaders, who dreamed of conquering the world; unlike ambitious mid-level agents hungry for greater political influence; and unlike the brainwashed rank-and-file members, Sitwell was fundamentally cautious and deeply opportunistic.
Those were the conclusions Daisy had drawn from her analysis.
HYDRA itself was divided into multiple factions.
Sitwell answered directly to Alexander Pierce, the former Director of S.H.I.E.L.D., placing him in a different faction from Whitehall.
As a subordinate caught between powerful figures, Sitwell naturally felt a constant sense of insecurity.
Since his true allegiance had to remain secret, switching sides was never an option, but cultivating another avenue of support was undeniably valuable.
Over the following days, Daisy secretly monitored his phone signal and mapped his movements.
By analyzing his online activity, she concluded that he really was searching for the obelisk.
Whether he would report everything to Pierce was another matter.
Daisy estimated there was roughly a seventy percent chance he would keep it to himself.
If Whitehall and Pierce dealt with the matter directly, any favor earned would belong to them, not to Sitwell.
From his perspective, reporting it immediately would accomplish nothing except deprive himself of potential credit.
As an only moderately competent double agent, Sitwell still had ambitions.
Daisy’s roommate, Angela, thought she had been acting strangely lately.
Earlier that day, she saw Daisy suddenly notice something before rushing out without explanation.
Three minutes earlier, Daisy had detected Sitwell’s phone leaving a secure area.
She had a feeling—call it intuition—that he had made progress.
After making sure she wasn’t being observed, she called him again.
“You’re efficient, Agent Sitwell.” She opened with a compliment.
Although she couldn’t access a live camera feed this time, the confidence in his voice was unmistakable.
“Accessing records related to the obelisk requires Level Ten clearance.” Daisy almost laughed.
If it hadn’t required Level Ten clearance, why would she have contacted him in the first place?
He had fully accepted her identity as a HYDRA operative and was already trying to earn recognition.
She deliberately hardened her tone.
HYDRA valued neither kindness nor courtesy.
Speaking too gently would only invite suspicion.
“This assignment isn’t difficult.
There are hundreds of unidentified artifacts in storage.
Borrowing Director Pierce’s clearance shouldn’t be beyond your capabilities.” The moment she mentioned Pierce by name, Sitwell became even more convinced she was genuine.
He assumed she held a position somewhere near HYDRA’s upper ranks, and his tone immediately became noticeably more respectful.
“Yes, sir.
How should I deliver the obelisk?
Would I have the honor of meeting Mr.
Whitehall personally?” “Heh…” Filtered through the voice changer, Daisy’s laugh sounded unsettling.
“Jasper Sitwell…
do you really want to meet Mr.
Whitehall?” Without waiting for an answer, she continued.
“You’ve reviewed the obelisk’s history, haven’t you?
Do you know what happens to anyone who touches it?
How many S.H.I.E.L.D.
researchers were turned to stone?” She paused before asking quietly, “Are you certain you want to deliver it to Mr.
Whitehall yourself?
After spending so many years imprisoned, his emotional state has become…
rather unstable.” Her deliberately vague words left plenty of room for Sitwell’s imagination.
He immediately pictured Whitehall ordering him to touch the obelisk first.
Treating subordinates as expendable tools was standard HYDRA practice.
Everyone who had previously attempted to handle the mysterious object had been petrified without exception.
Sitwell had no intention of becoming the next victim.
Between his life and his ambitions, choosing life required no thought.
At the same time, he suspected the caller intended to claim all the credit without ever mentioning his contribution to Whitehall.
Ruthless.
Manipulative.
Exactly what he expected from HYDRA.
Convinced he had seen through her scheme, he became noticeably less deferential.
“You get all the credit.
What do I get?” “A guarantee of survival, steady promotion, and an escape route when the situation turns bad.” She paused.
“You don’t actually believe Pierce’s faction is the only one inside S.H.I.E.L.D., do you?
Remember, S.H.I.E.L.D.
itself is one of HYDRA’s greatest assets.” Since Daisy knew Sitwell would survive for several more years, making promises cost her nothing.
She pressed her advantage.
“We can use our influence to help your career.
It’s always safer to have more than one path forward.” Cowardly and vain, Sitwell finally accepted her explanation.
The call ended shortly afterward.
Daisy instructed him to leave the obelisk inside a trash can at a specific location.
Once he departed, she hired a homeless man to retrieve it.
Waiting in a nearby alley with her hood pulled low, Daisy incapacitated the man with a stun gun.
She quickly inspected the package.
It was a rectangular metal case labeled S.S.R.084.
Unsure whether it contained a tracking device, she put on gloves and pried it open.
Inside rested a polygonal metallic obelisk over thirty centimeters tall.
From a distance, it vaguely resembled the Hercules Trophy.
Time was limited.
Using a pair of pliers, she carefully lifted the obelisk into her backpack before taking the empty case to a nearby chemical plant and dropping it into a vat of sulfuric acid.
No matter how capable S.H.I.E.L.D.’s agents were, they would never recover that container.
The obelisk itself required no such precautions.
Its seamless Kree construction prevented electronic tracking devices from being attached.
It could also disable nearby electronics and instantly petrify any intelligent lifeform lacking Inhuman DNA.
With Earth’s current level of technology, tracking it was effectively impossible.
Under cover of darkness, Daisy erased the nearby surveillance footage that had captured her before hailing a taxi and disappearing into the night.