Sorcerer in the Marvel Universe

"That’s him?" Melinda whispered into Evenson’s ear.

She knew exactly who Gavrilo Princip was. Just a few days earlier, Evenson had been explaining the assassination in Sarajevo and the outbreak of World War I to Nick Fury.

If he’d just compared someone to Princip...

There was only one possible conclusion.

Evenson nodded almost imperceptibly.

"That’s Thor."

Melinda stared at the screen again.

"The crown prince of Asgard..."

There was genuine curiosity in her voice. It wasn’t every day someone casually identified extraterrestrial royalty.

But after another moment, confusion replaced it.

"He doesn’t seem nearly as powerful as the legends describe."

The recording reached the moment where Thor failed to lift Mjolnir.

He collapsed to his knees, roaring in despair.

"...And he can’t even lift his own weapon."

"Something happened in Asgard," Evenson said quietly.

"Something serious enough to strip him of both his divine power... and his divine status."

Melinda frowned.

"Punishment?"

"A coup?"

"An invasion?"

"An accident?"

"Any of those are possible."

She looked toward him.

"So what do we do?"

"I don’t know."

Evenson folded his arms.

"But regardless of what’s happening in Asgard..."

"...the last thing we want is for Thor to die on Earth."

Melinda nodded immediately.

"Agreed."

"Agreed about what?"

Coulson looked back and forth between them.

"What exactly are you two talking about?"

Instead of answering, Evenson asked another question.

"He surrendered peacefully, and you interrogated him."

"What happened?"

"He refused to answer any questions."

Coulson shrugged.

"I concluded from his fighting ability that he was probably a highly trained mercenary."

"A mercenary?"

Evenson smiled faintly.

"Then I imagine his rates are extraordinary."

The smile vanished.

"So where is he now?"

"I released him."

"You... what?"

Evenson’s expression became one of exaggerated disbelief.

"Let me make sure I understand."

"A man single-handedly infiltrates your facility."

"Beats your agents barehanded."

"Reaches one of the most important objects under S.H.I.E.L.D. protection."

"You believe he’s a professional mercenary."

"He tells you absolutely nothing during interrogation..."

"...and then you let him go?"

"Is that really your official answer, Agent Coulson?"

"In fairness," Coulson replied calmly, "we identified him."

He walked over to a nearby computer and pulled up an identification file.

The photograph belonged to Thor.

The name beneath it read:

Donald Blake.

"Medical doctor."

"Later changed fields and earned a doctorate in astronomy."

Coulson pointed to the file.

"Dr. Erik Selvig personally vouched for him."

"You mean this Erik Selvig."

He nodded toward the scientist standing nearby.

"One of the world’s leading physicists and astronomers."

Evenson raised an eyebrow.

"...That was enough?"

"I also assigned two agents to keep him under surveillance."

Coulson shrugged.

"I wasn’t careless."

Evenson didn’t answer.

Instead, he glanced sideways at Melinda.

Her expression had grown unusually serious.

Almost worried.

She gave the slightest shake of her head.

This wasn’t normal procedure.

Not even close.

Then she subtly gestured toward the monitor.

Evenson’s eyes narrowed.

The identification file displayed an unmistakable warning in bright red letters.

SECURITY ALERT: FORGED IDENTIFICATION

Neither Coulson nor Selvig reacted.

As though they couldn’t even see it.

Only Barton noticed.

His eyes widened ever so slightly.

Without drawing attention, Evenson gave him a discreet look.

Don’t say anything.

Barton understood immediately.

He casually stepped backward.

It looked like nothing.

In reality, he’d quietly positioned himself between everyone else and the room’s only exit.

The reinforced walls of the security office weren’t the flimsy temporary partitions outside.

If things went wrong...

No one was leaving quickly.

Evenson looked back at Coulson.

"Before Agent Selvig informed you someone had come to claim the suspect..."

He rewound the surveillance footage.

"...you left the interrogation room."

The recording clearly showed Coulson walking away.

"Where did you go?"

Coulson frowned.

"Are you interrogating me now?"

Evenson remained expressionless.

"Answer the question."

Coulson sighed.

Evenson’s authority now exceeded his own.

Whether he liked it or not...

He had to comply.

"I took a phone call."

"That’s hardly unusual."

Senior agents regularly handled classified communications away from detainees.

Normally, no one would question that.

"Who called you?"

"It was..."

The answer caught in his throat.

His expression slowly changed.

Confusion.

Then disbelief.

He looked around the room as though expecting someone else to answer for him.

Finally, he spoke in a voice filled with genuine uncertainty.

"...I don’t remember."

"You don’t remember?"

Melinda’s voice sharpened.

"That call happened less than twelve hours ago."

She grabbed him by the arm and pointed toward the computer.

"Then explain this."

The red warning still flashed across Thor’s forged identification.

SECURITY ALERT: FORGED IDENTIFICATION

Coulson stared blankly.

"...My God."

"I never even noticed that."

Melinda released him.

Then turned toward Evenson.

"This doesn’t make sense."

She spoke quietly enough that only the others in the room could hear.

"Coulson has made a series of mistakes that even a rookie agent wouldn’t make."

"Either..."

"...he’s carrying out a classified assignment above our clearance..."

"...or something is very wrong."

She refused to believe her longtime friend had betrayed S.H.I.E.L.D.

Not this blatantly.

A secret mission seemed far more likely.

But Coulson looked almost panicked.

"There is no secret mission."

"I’m telling the truth."

"I genuinely can’t remember who called me."

"And I honestly don’t remember seeing that warning."

Before Melinda could question him further—

"Evenson."

He pointed toward the surveillance footage.

Thor had begun speaking.

Apparently to someone standing just outside the camera’s view.

His expression was filled with grief.

At one point...

He even cried.

Yet according to the recording...

He had been completely alone.

"What is he saying?"

Melinda watched carefully.

There was no audio.

Fortunately, lip reading was standard training for elite S.H.I.E.L.D. agents.

After several moments, she frowned.

"I can’t translate it."

"It’s not any language I recognize."

She paused.

"But I understood the first word."

"Loki."

She hesitated.

"...His uncle?"

Evenson snorted.

"Popular misconception."

"Loki’s his brother."

His gaze shifted back to the still-confused Coulson and Selvig.

"So..."

"The God of Mischief came here."

"I think I know exactly what happened."

He slowly raised one hand.

Then lowered it again with a sigh.

"I really don’t feel like casting spells today."

He looked at Melinda.

"You do it."

"Recalibrate those two unfortunate brains."

Melinda blinked.

"Recalibrate?"

"You mean they’ve been hypnotized?"

"Something close enough."

Evenson nodded.

"Confusing people’s minds is one of Loki’s specialties."

Melinda sighed.

"Coulson really has terrible luck."

"The first time we visited your shop, a magic book hijacked his mind."

"And now Loki’s done it again."

She spread her hands helplessly.

"But I don’t know how to repair someone’s consciousness."

"I don’t know magic."

Evenson cracked his knuckles.

A slow, decidedly unfriendly smile spread across his face.

"Who said anything about magic?"

"We’re doing it..."

"...the physical way."

...

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