Sorcerer in the Marvel Universe

Whoever wanted Justin Hammer dead had acted fast.

They’d been ruthless enough to attack a SHIELD convoy in broad daylight, skilled enough to uncover SHIELD’s secret transfer route, and clever enough to leave behind evidence pointing directly at Umbrella.

There weren’t many people capable of pulling off something like that.

Whitehall immediately came to Evenson’s mind.

Still, he asked, "Why are you so sure it was Umbrella?"

Melinda answered calmly.

"The fighter that attacked the decoy convoy had Umbrella’s logo painted on the fuselage."

"The team that ambushed Hammer’s real escort wore armbands with Umbrella’s insignia."

Evenson almost laughed.

That old bastard wasn’t even trying to be subtle.

At this point Whitehall might as well have held a press conference claiming responsibility.

"You don’t think that’s a little too obvious?"

"It could be."

Melinda nodded.

"But it could also be deliberate. Make it look fake so everyone assumes it’s fake."

Evenson sighed inwardly.

Sometimes intelligence agencies really did have a talent for making simple problems complicated.

For the time being, Umbrella would remain the official suspect.

"Your organization leaks like a sieve," he said. "First Hydra, now Umbrella knows your operational procedures."

Melinda’s expression darkened.

"Director Fury took that personally."

"Which explains why he’s become... overcautious lately."

"So that’s why he’s suddenly suspicious of everyone?"

"Exactly."

She looked directly at him.

"Your value has increased dramatically."

"And so has the danger around you."

"Fury isn’t investigating Claire because he distrusts her."

"He’s investigating anyone who gets close to you."

She paused.

"Don’t forget, you’re the one who exposed Hydra."

"And you probably know more about Umbrella than anyone else inside SHIELD."

"If either organization realizes how much you know..."

"They’ll do everything they can to eliminate you."

Evenson smiled.

"So Fury shoved you onto this assignment to protect me."

"Yes."

Melinda frowned.

"And what exactly did you mean by ’shoved’?"

"You sound unhappy."

"I canceled plans for tonight."

Evenson glanced at her with exaggerated resignation.

"Now I’m spending the evening alone with another woman."

"I should at least feel guilty."

"And honestly..."

"I don’t think I need bodyguards."

Melinda snorted.

"Since when does playing video games count as a date?"

Then her expression turned serious.

"I know you’re powerful."

"But power isn’t everything."

"I’ve survived long enough to become a senior field agent because I recognize danger before it reaches me."

"We complement each other."

Evenson gave her a strange look.

That sounded much less awkward in your head than it did out loud.

Still...

She wasn’t wrong.

People who survived long enough to become SHIELD veterans were experts in noticing details everyone else missed.

As they approached a roadside service plaza, Evenson suddenly steered off the highway.

He parked outside a convenience store.

"You know," he said as he shut off the engine, "if I ever die, it’ll probably be because Fury used me as bait."

Melinda looked at him carefully.

"Why do you say that?"

"Because I know exactly what he’s doing."

Fury being shaken by discovering Hydra inside SHIELD?

Sure.

That was believable.

Fury becoming paranoid because of it?

Not for a second.

The man had built an intelligence empire from nothing. His nerve wasn’t that fragile.

No...

This whole performance felt calculated.

Fury wanted word to leak that Evenson possessed invaluable intelligence.

Then he intended to wait for Hydra or Umbrella to come after him.

Evenson was the bait.

Melinda’s assignment probably wasn’t just protection.

She was also there to make sure that, when the assassins inevitably appeared, Evenson didn’t reduce every last one of them to ash before SHIELD had a chance to interrogate them.

Honestly... what a headache.

"You don’t need gas?" Melinda asked as they climbed out.

"You’ve driven quite a ways."

"My car barely uses any fuel."

"Magic?"

"You could call it... enchanted fuel efficiency."

He wasn’t about to explain that the vehicle technically ran on the soul of the Abomination.

"What are you looking at?" Melinda asked.

Evenson was staring at his phone while walking toward the store.

"New Mexico travel guide."

"We’re not tourists."

"We’re here anyway."

He shrugged.

"Might as well sample the local specialties."

"And what exactly are New Mexico’s specialties?"

She held the door open.

Evenson put away his phone.

"Specialty number one."

"Spanish."

He walked up to the cashier and switched languages effortlessly.

"Good afternoon, ma’am. Two chicken burritos, please."

The Latina cashier smiled immediately.

"Your Spanish is excellent."

"Thanks."

He accepted the food and handed one burrito to Melinda.

"Specialty number two."

"Chicken burritos."

Melinda laughed.

"You speak Spanish?"

"Well enough."

Normal conversation was easy.

Compared to Demon Tongue, Spanish was practically relaxing.

"I thought you never finished high school."

"I usually avoid conversations about academic credentials."

He took another bite of his burrito.

While wandering past the shelves, something outside caught his attention.

A man bundled in heavy clothing limped toward the entrance.

As he drew closer, Evenson noticed the bruises covering his face.

Someone had beaten him badly not long ago.

Just before entering the store, the man reached beneath his coat.

Click.

A pump-action shotgun.

Evenson sighed.

"Specialty number three."

He lowered his voice.

"The Wild West."

The man burst through the doorway.

"Nobody move!"

He leveled the shotgun at the cashier.

"Money. Now!"

His speech whistled strangely through missing front teeth.

Faced with an armed robbery, SHIELD consultant Evenson Richter made an immediate tactical decision.

He crouched behind a shelf...

...and continued eating his burrito.

"I hate robbers," he muttered between bites.

"No imagination."

Melinda crouched beside him.

"You’re seriously hiding?"

He looked at her.

"So are you."

"I’m assessing the situation."

She peeked through the shelves.

"I need to know whether he’s really just a robber..."

"...or bait."

That was the difference between an ordinary criminal and a Hydra assassin wearing explosives under his coat.

The robber laughed wildly.

"Didn’t expect me to get out, did you?"

"I’m alone this time!"

"And that smiling kung fu guy in the suit and sunglasses isn’t here anymore!"

"So hand over the cash!"

Evenson blinked.

"A guy in a suit..."

"Sunglasses..."

"Always smiling..."

"Knows martial arts..."

He looked at the robber’s plaster-covered leg.

"I think I know who broke that."

"So do I."

Melinda rolled her shoulders.

"I know him better than you do."

"I believe that."

She stood up and walked into the open.

"Hey."

The robber spun toward her.

"Who the hell are you?"

"Relax."

Melinda casually held up her pistol by two fingers.

"I’ve got another gun."

"Want it?"

The robber froze.

Then he grinned.

"Nice try."

"I’ve seen that trick before."

He fired immediately.

"Shit."

Melinda dove sideways as buckshot blasted apart the shelves behind her.

The robber laughed hysterically while pumping round after round into her cover.

"You think I’m stupid?"

At that moment, a small bag of flour sailed through the air.

Pop.

It exploded directly in his face.

The robber screamed, blinded by the cloud of white powder.

Melinda didn’t waste the opening.

She launched herself forward.

Her flying kick smashed squarely into his face.

The robber lost consciousness before he even hit the floor.

Apparently still annoyed by the shotgun incident, Melinda followed it with one more kick.

This time to his healthy leg.

A sharp crack echoed through the store.

Judging by the angle of the limb afterward...

That leg was finished.

Melinda walked to the counter and placed a bill beside the register.

"For the burritos."

"I’ll get your change."

The cashier seemed surprisingly calm despite the robbery.

Then Melinda set the shotgun on the counter.

Before she could say anything, the cashier nodded knowingly.

"I know."

"I’ll tell the police exactly what happened."

"I’ve watched enough action movies."

Melinda opened her mouth.

Closed it again.

"...Yes."

"Exactly."

Back on the highway, Evenson chuckled.

"You and that guy seemed awfully synchronized."

"What guy?"

Melinda asked innocently.

"Coulson."

"A couple of weeks ago he drove this same route."

"I’m guessing this exact robber tried the same stunt."

"Which explains the missing teeth."

Melinda couldn’t help smiling.

"We used to be partners."

"I know."

"But that much coordination?"

"You work together long enough..."

"It becomes instinct."

Evenson gave her a skeptical grin.

"I don’t believe that for a second."

He was convinced there had once been something more between the two of them.

Melinda was considering whether punching him would improve his personality when a deafening roar erupted behind them.

Her instincts reacted first.

Motorcycle engine.

Closing rapidly.

She turned around.

Then froze.

A blazing mass of hellfire was racing down the highway.

Only the silhouette of a motorcycle remained visible inside the flames.

She had never seen anything remotely like it.

Whatever it was...

It couldn’t possibly be friendly.

She whipped around to tell Evenson to accelerate.

Before she spoke, he had already buried the accelerator.

The speedometer surged past two hundred kilometers per hour.

She looked back again.

The burning rider was still gaining.

Fast.

"What is that?" she asked.

"I was hoping we wouldn’t run into him."

Evenson watched the rearview mirror with obvious reluctance.

"New Mexico’s rarest specialty."

The distance dropped below a hundred meters.

His expression became deadly serious.

"When he gets close..."

He didn’t take his eyes off the mirror.

"Whatever you do..."

"Don’t look into his eyes."

"Do not look into his eyes."

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