One of the first lessons every S.H.I.E.L.D. agent learned was that people revealed themselves through ordinary behavior.
A person’s habits, reactions, and mannerisms often told the truth long before an interrogation ever could.
That was the real reason Nick Fury had sent Phil Coulson to question Evenson Richter about Tony Stark’s disappearance.
It had never been because Fury genuinely believed Evenson was involved.
The suspicion had been far too flimsy for that.
The visit had been a character test.
Coulson and Melinda’s first encounter with Evenson had answered one question:
Was he dangerous?
This second meeting answered another.
Was he someone S.H.I.E.L.D. could trust?
The results pleased Fury.
Evenson hadn’t groveled before S.H.I.E.L.D.’s authority, nor had he tried to curry favor. Faced with serious accusations, he had shown anger instead of fear, confidence instead of panic.
That suggested two things.
First, he possessed enough strength to believe he could protect himself.
More importantly, he possessed self-respect.
S.H.I.E.L.D. wasn’t looking for servants.
It needed people with backbone.
Someone who bowed simply because S.H.I.E.L.D. was powerful would bow just as easily before a stronger criminal organization. Loyalty born from fear lasted only until someone more frightening appeared.
A man with principles was far more valuable than a man who merely obeyed.
There was another detail Fury found equally important.
Evenson treated ordinary people as equals.
Over the years, Fury had encountered countless enhanced individuals who gained a little power and immediately decided they had outgrown humanity. They viewed themselves as superior beings, placed their own desires above everyone else’s, and eventually destroyed themselves through arrogance.
Power didn’t create monsters.
It revealed them.
People who regarded everyone else as expendable inevitably became a threat, and Fury had little interest in recruiting walking disasters.
Evenson was different.
Whether because of personal ethics or simply a "leave me alone and I’ll leave you alone" philosophy, he showed no signs of abusing his abilities.
That alone meant he probably wouldn’t incinerate hostages just to eliminate a handful of terrorists.
He wasn’t another Steve Rogers.
Few people were capable of that level of self-sacrifice.
But he didn’t need to be.
Being decent was enough.
For those reasons, Fury quietly added Evenson Richter’s name to the candidate list for his future special response team.
A candidate.
Nothing more.
Trust still had to be earned.
With that decision made, Fury returned to the matter at hand.
"The Stark operation comes first."
He looked at Coulson.
"You brought that... remarkable dog here."
"So you’ll be the one taking him to Afghanistan."
"Use him to locate Tony Stark."
"You understand why I’m assigning this to you?"
"Yes, sir."
Coulson nodded immediately.
"I won’t let you down."
He understood perfectly.
Knowledge regarding Evenson had already been classified at Level Ten. Coulson only knew as much as he did because of his direct involvement.
Fury clearly had no intention of expanding that circle.
Keeping Habs attached to the same handler reduced the number of people exposed to the warlock and his impossible magic.
Besides...
Spending a few days coordinating with the military in Afghanistan sounded considerably more pleasant than remaining in New York negotiating with defense contractors and weapons manufacturers.
"Oh, and one more thing."
Fury’s expression turned unusually serious.
"Try not to let that dog talk."
"...Understood."
Coulson had already reached the same conclusion.
A talking dog shattered enough worldviews on its own.
A talking dog with Habs’ talent for insults could leave emotional casualties behind.
If necessary, he’d keep the creature’s mouth occupied with dog treats for the entire flight.
While Fury finalized S.H.I.E.L.D.’s plans...
Evenson was conducting an operation of his own.
"Still nothing?"
He sat behind the counter of his shop, cigarette in hand, while his summoned attendants searched every shelf, cabinet, drawer, and storage crate.
"No, Boss."
The reply came back in perfect unison.
Evenson exhaled a slow stream of smoke.
"...Seriously?"
"I never realized that idiot was this good at hiding things."
Sarah hesitated before speaking.
"Are you sure this treasure actually exists?"
"It absolutely exists."
Evenson answered without a moment’s hesitation.
"The Secret Treasure of Habs is real."
"I’d bet my reputation on it."
He frowned.
"But where the hell did he bury it...?"
The shop fell silent except for the sound of pages turning and boxes opening.
Then...
A spark flashed across Evenson’s eyes.
He shot to his feet.
"I’ve got it."
Everyone looked up.
"Grab some shovels."
"We’re going to the alley."
Moments later, the group gathered behind the shop beside a battered dumpster.
Evenson crossed his arms and examined the area like a detective approaching the climax of a murder case.
"I’ve been observing this for days."
He pointed dramatically at the dumpster.
"This one sits about two inches lower than the others."
"The concrete underneath has obviously settled."
"More importantly..."
"Habs always lingers here whenever I take him for a walk."
He snapped his fingers.
"The answer is obvious."
"The Secret Treasure of Habs is buried right here."
"Tyler."
"Start digging."
Without questioning his employer’s increasingly theatrical reasoning, Tyler kicked the dumpster aside.
Sure enough...
The concrete beneath had already been broken and patched back together.
Someone had dug here before.
Tyler drove his shovel into the ground.
The rest joined in.
After several minutes of frantic digging, the shovel struck cardboard.
About six feet below the surface rested a large packing box.
Tyler looked up excitedly.
"We found it!"
"The Secret Treasure of Habs!"
Evenson nodded with the solemn satisfaction of a detective solving his greatest case.
"Good."
"Bring it up."
"And fill the hole afterward."
Even treasure hunters should clean up after themselves.
Besides, while dogs loved digging holes by instinct, only a Felhound could casually tear through concrete to hide a stash.
The box was carried back into the shop.
Five pairs of eyes watched as Evenson slowly opened the lid.
The legendary Secret Treasure of Habs...
...was revealed.
Ten enormous bags of premium dog food.
Evenson sighed.
"I knew it."
Every so often, Habs secretly ordered expensive dog food with cash-on-delivery shipping.
The deliveries always disappeared before Evenson could figure out where they had gone.
Habs certainly ate a lot...
But not that much.
The mutt had been stockpiling it.
Typical.
No matter how demonic a Felhound became, some instincts apparently transcended species.
A dog was still a dog.
"Sarah."
He pointed at the mountain of unopened bags.
"Sell all of it."
"We’re upgrading everyone’s meals."
Sarah looked at him in disbelief.
"Boss..."
"You’re stealing food from your own dog."
"Really?"
Evenson snorted.
"Fine."
"When I buy everyone better food, you don’t have to eat any of it."
Sarah rolled her eyes.
She had only been teasing.
If selling the dog food meant better meals for everyone, she was all for it.
She hefted two of the bags onto her shoulder and headed for the door.
"And Sarah..."
Evenson’s voice suddenly became much quieter.
"Prepare the ritual tonight."
She stopped.
"The ritual?"
He nodded.
"I’m making another trip there."
Her playful smile disappeared.
"I understand."
Evenson smiled faintly after she left.
Hydra had already learned an expensive lesson.
Now...
Perhaps it was time S.H.I.E.L.D. had something else demanding its full attention.
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