Sorcerer in the Marvel Universe

"Excellent."

Evenson accepted the contract from Nahash and inspected it with painstaking care.

He read every clause.

Then he read it again.

He checked the wording, the signatures, the magical seals, and every loophole he could think of.

Only after satisfying himself that there wasn’t a hidden trap buried in the fine print did he sign his name.

Rolling up the contract, he looked back at Nahash.

"So. Where’s Locke?"

"Eastern Europe."

Evenson deadpanned.

"Thanks. I was worried you were going to narrow it down to ’Earth.’"

Eastern Europe covered millions of square miles.

Finding one shape-shifting devil there wasn’t exactly encouraging.

Still, he hadn’t expected anything more.

This was a devil they were negotiating with. The fact that Nahash wasn’t actively sabotaging them already counted as cooperation. If the situation hadn’t been so serious, he probably wouldn’t even have revealed the continent.

"You’ll need to move quickly," Nahash warned. "The winter solstice isn’t far away."

His body dissolved into a writhing mass of venomous snakes.

The serpents flowed back into Phil Coulson’s mouth, and a moment later "Coulson" calmly walked toward the exit.

As he reached the corner of the hallway, he paused without turning around.

"If you have the time," Nahash called back, "send some food."

"Snakes can go a long while without eating."

"This body can’t."

Nick Fury frowned.

"What do you want?"

He silently prayed the answer wouldn’t involve live animals or anything equally disturbing.

"Apples."

Nahash disappeared around the corner.

Evenson blinked.

"That snake really is committed to the whole apple thing."

Fury pulled out his phone.

"Director’s priority line. Bring the bus around."

After giving the order, he turned back to Evenson.

"Something’s been bothering me."

"What?"

"How did you know?"

Fury folded his arms.

"How did you know Nahash wasn’t really here over those thousand souls? That he wanted something else?"

Before Evenson could answer, Claire spoke first.

"Nahash occupies an exceptionally high position in Hell."

She glanced toward the hallway where he had disappeared.

"The fact that he casually joked about Mephisto with Evenson tells us that much."

She narrowed her eyes.

"And besides... do you really think Mephisto would care that much about a thousand souls?"

"The Lord of Hell commands countless millions."

Her tone made it clear she still wasn’t entirely pleased that Fury had so readily promised compensation during the negotiations.

Evenson walked over and rested a reassuring hand on her shoulder before looking back at Fury.

"Let me put it another way."

"If someone stole a thousand dollars from me..."

"...would I come ask the Director of S.H.I.E.L.D. to solve it?"

"If it were you?"

Fury answered without the slightest hesitation.

"Absolutely."

"You’d storm into my office demanding satellite surveillance to find the thief."

"And after we caught him, you’d insist I charge him with crimes against national security just to make sure he never saw daylight again."

Evenson stared.

"...It was a hypothetical."

"I know what a hypothetical is."

He threw both hands into the air.

"It was supposed to illustrate a principle!"

"We understood that," Melinda May said with a perfectly straight face.

"Otherwise there’s no way you’d keep a thousand dollars in cash at home."

"Your paycheck is split across three different bank accounts the day it arrives."

"I’m not sure you’ve ever carried more than five hundred dollars at once."

The room fell silent.

Evenson rubbed his face.

"...This is humiliating."

He sighed.

"Fine. New example."

He pointed at Fury.

"If someone stole a thousand dollars from you, would you send Clint Barton and Natasha Romanoff to recover it?"

"Of course not."

Fury snorted.

"It’d be cheaper to reimburse myself from the operating budget."

"There you go."

Evenson spread his hands.

"The San Venganza Contract is important..."

"...but not important enough for someone like Nahash to personally handle it."

"And think about the method Mephisto used."

A grin slowly spread across his face.

"Hostage-taking."

"Threats."

"Coercion."

"That’s street thug behavior."

"He has far too much pride for tactics like that."

"If he resorted to something so crude..."

"...then whatever’s forcing his hand has to be serious."

Fury nodded slowly.

Now it all fit together.

At the beginning of the negotiations he’d been completely on the back foot, not because he’d misread the situation, but because he knew almost nothing about Hell.

And reading Nahash had been impossible.

The Serpent of Eden.

The Father of Lies.

Trying to judge someone like that by facial expressions was an exercise in futility.

Fury exhaled.

"All right."

"Enough hindsight."

"How do we actually find Locke?"

"We don’t even know what he looks like."

Claire gave a faint smile.

"Even if we did, it wouldn’t help much."

"Devils redefine the phrase ’new face.’"

"They can change identities more easily than most people change clothes."

Evenson scratched his head.

"I’ll be honest..."

"I don’t have a great plan."

Then his eyes lit up.

"Actually..."

"We ask someone for help."

"Who?"

Fury and Melinda spoke at exactly the same time.

Both immediately looked toward Claire.

"Kamar-Taj has a responsibility to deal with demonic threats," Claire said at once.

Then she frowned.

"But devils excel at concealment."

"We couldn’t locate Locke quickly, even if we devoted every sorcerer we had to the search."

She wasn’t making excuses.

Mephisto and his servants had visited Earth countless times over the centuries.

Kamar-Taj had rarely managed to intercept them.

"Then we’ll ask someone from Hell."

Evenson’s smile turned distinctly mischievous.

Melinda frowned.

She glanced down at her own hand before looking back up.

"You mean..."

"Johnny Blaze."

Evenson nodded.

"The Ghost Rider’s connection to Hell is extraordinary."

"He can sense devils better than anyone."

He looked toward Fury.

"S.H.I.E.L.D. has been keeping tabs on him, right?"

"Where is he?"

Fury narrowed his remaining eye.

"The Ghost Rider..."

"Of course we’re monitoring him."

"But because of... what he is... I don’t put agents anywhere near him."

"I track him by satellite."

"Smart."

Evenson nodded approvingly.

"Assigning agents to shadow the Ghost Rider would be a creative form of workplace homicide."

Fury made another call.

A few moments later his eyebrows rose.

"Really?"

"That’s convenient."

He hung up.

"Johnny Blaze is already in Eastern Europe."

"Belarus."

Evenson’s smile widened.

"Perfect."

"Then that’s where we’re headed."

He started walking toward the exit.

"We don’t have much time."

He glanced back over his shoulder.

"Director, I’d appreciate transportation."

"But let me be clear."

"I’m done flying in Quinjets."

"I’ve officially had enough of those things."

Fury folded his arms with unmistakable satisfaction.

"Already taken care of."

"A rather nice bus is waiting for you."

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