Thor hurried toward Loki’s containment cell.
What greeted him wasn’t his brother.
It was an illusion.
The instant Thor stepped inside, the image vanished.
The reinforced prison door slammed shut behind him.
Outside the cell, the real Loki gave his imprisoned brother a smug grin.
"Farewell, dear brother."
His fingers danced across the control console.
"I’ve been locked in this cage forever, and you never once came to visit."
"You were probably too busy spending time with Sif."
"So..."
"Enjoy the view."
He pressed a single key.
The entire containment cell detached from the Helicarrier.
With Thor still inside.
The transparent prison plunged toward the earth from thirty thousand feet.
Loki smiled with satisfaction and turned to leave.
A heavy thud echoed behind him.
The mercenary who had helped free him collapsed unconscious after being struck from behind.
Phil Coulson stepped into view.
Resting across his arms was an unfamiliar weapon.
"You know what this is?"
He thumbed off the safety.
Orange energy surged through a series of spiral coils running along the barrel.
After recovering the Destroyer’s remains, SHIELD had begun reverse engineering its technology.
The result was crude compared to the original.
It couldn’t match the Destroyer’s legendary disintegration beam.
But compared to conventional firearms...
It was terrifying.
Unfortunately...
Loki was still an Asgardian.
And Coulson made one fatal mistake.
If you already have the enemy in your sights...
Shoot.
Don’t give a speech.
By the time Coulson finished explaining the weapon, Loki had already acted.
He switched places with an illusion.
Appearing behind Coulson.
His spear drove cleanly through the agent’s chest.
Coulson staggered.
His attempt to stop Loki had failed.
Cause of failure:
Talking too much.
Ironically...
Loki immediately repeated the exact same mistake.
Instead of finishing the job and leaving, he lingered to gloat over the dying agent.
Coulson smiled weakly.
Then pulled the trigger.
The experimental weapon discharged with a thunderous blast.
Orange energy slammed into Loki, hurling him across the room and embedding him deep into a wall.
For perhaps the fifth time that day...
The God of Mischief found himself stuck in solid architecture.
Elsewhere aboard the Helicarrier, Clint Barton was already retreating.
The mission hadn’t gone entirely as planned.
He had failed to disable the Helicarrier.
But Loki had escaped.
The Avengers had been driven into conflict.
Overall...
The operation was still a success.
He moved swiftly through a maintenance corridor.
A faint sound behind him.
Without hesitation, Barton spun, drawing his blade in one smooth motion.
The strike sliced through empty air.
His attacker wasn’t an amateur.
Natasha Romanoff had fought beside him for years.
She knew every trick he favored.
Avoiding that counterattack was almost effortless.
Barton immediately shifted into a close-quarters stance.
He had no illusion that this would end quickly.
Still...
He believed he could match Natasha hand-to-hand.
Unfortunately...
Natasha hadn’t come alone.
CRACK!
Something lashed around Barton’s body before he even sensed it.
Black Leather tightened instantly.
Sarah slowly emerged from behind him.
There had been no chance she was letting Natasha chase a former partner alone.
One sharp tug.
Barton hit the deck.
Sarah looked down at him with obvious distaste.
"Honestly..."
"If it weren’t for the boss’s orders..."
"I’d never tie up another man."
Natasha raised an eyebrow.
Sarah immediately winked.
"Women are different."
"I’ll gladly make an exception for you."
Natasha rolled her eyes.
"Focus."
She knelt beside Barton.
"He said the best way to break Loki’s control is a hard blow to the head."
She looked up at Sarah.
"Do you happen to know..."
"...how hard?"
Sarah lifted one elegant hoof-like foot with an innocent smile.
"One kick."
"I guarantee the mind control disappears."
Natasha laughed awkwardly.
"I also guarantee Barton spends the rest of his life drooling in a hospital bed."
"I’ll handle it."
So ended Loki’s rescue team.
Every operative was captured or eliminated.
Only the pilot escaped...
Taking Loki with him.
Sometimes the safest job really was staying with the getaway vehicle.
Back in the command center, Peggy Carter hadn’t forgotten the far more pressing mystery.
She fixed Dottie Underwood with a wary stare.
"Why are you here?"
Dottie smiled brightly.
"To see you, of course."
"You have no idea how difficult it was to catch a ride here."
She spread her arms dramatically.
"Come here."
"I deserve a proper hug."
Peggy didn’t lower Havoc.
"If you value your health..."
"Stay exactly where you are."
Dottie clutched at her chest as though her heart had shattered.
"Peggy..."
"After everything we’ve been through?"
Her voice trembled.
"I took care of you for twenty years after you retired."
"And now..."
"You point a gun at me?"
"I’ve never been so heartbroken."
She lowered her head.
"So that’s it."
"You’ve returned to SHIELD."
"You’ve reunited with your old flame."
"And now you don’t need me anymore."
"I was just a toy to you..."
"Wasn’t I?"
The room fell silent.
Every bystander quietly shifted into spectator mode.
This...
This sounded like it came with years of unresolved history.
Even Nick Fury found himself unconsciously edging closer.
Purely for professional reasons.
Of course.
Then his expression abruptly changed.
His remaining eye widened.
He finally realized why Dumon had somehow appeared inside the command center despite being assigned to another deck.
There was...
A giant hole in the floor.
Beside it sat Habs.
The fel hound was leisurely scratching behind one ear with a hind leg.
Fury stared.
The floor was reinforced alloy.
The dog had tunneled upward through it.
From below.
Habs noticed the look.
"What?"
He snorted.
"Believe it or not..."
"Your floor started it."
Fury silently considered strangling a demon dog.
Then remembered he probably couldn’t.
Across the room, Dottie’s dramatic performance continued.
Finally, Peggy snapped.
"Enough, Dottie!"
"You call that ’taking care of me?’"
"You broke into my house every few weeks just to frighten me with prank gadgets!"
"And don’t pretend otherwise."
"You’re a Sleeper agent."
"You spent all those years lying to me."
"You never retired."
Dottie’s fake sobbing stopped instantly.
She lowered her hands.
Not a single tear stained her face.
She pouted.
"You’re no fun, Peggy."
Then she corrected her with perfect seriousness.
"And besides..."
"I’m not a Sleeper."
She smiled proudly.
"I’m a Deep Sleeper."
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