Sorcerer in the Marvel Universe

Regardless of the complications, Evenson still needed to land the big fish.

Locke was the fish. The Son of the Devil was the bait. Carrigan was the line.

And now Melinda wanted to reel in the bait and cut the line before the fish had even taken it.

That wasn’t going to work.

By the time Evenson finished arguing, their aircraft was already hovering above the target vehicles. They no longer needed satellites to track Nadia. The plane’s external cameras provided a direct view.

According to the feeds, Carrigan’s convoy had already forced Nadia’s vehicle to a stop.

The single mother had locked her child inside the car before stepping out herself. Unfortunately, Carrigan’s men had apparently decided that blinding her with their headlights was a perfectly reasonable tactical maneuver.

Nadia could barely see.

She clutched a small handgun and fired blindly toward the vehicles, accomplishing little beyond making herself look even more helpless.

"It’ll be fine."

Melinda pulled a large jungle knife from its sheath and inspected the edge before sliding it into the rig at the small of her back.

"Once I get down there and take that bastard alive, we’ll have all the answers we need."

"You want to interrogate him?"

Evenson immediately understood.

"You want to get information about Locke out of Carrigan?"

He shook his head.

"That’s not going to work."

"You won’t know until you try."

Melinda slipped on her goggles and gathered her long hair into a tight ponytail.

"Carrigan is a disgrace even by mercenary standards. He doesn’t exactly have a reputation for loyalty to his employers."

"And what if Carrigan doesn’t know where Locke is?"

Evenson rolled his eyes.

Ever since the child had become involved, Melinda’s judgment seemed to be deteriorating by the minute.

"How many times do I have to explain this? The most dangerous thing about the Devil isn’t his power. It’s his brain."

He gestured toward the tactical display.

"Locke’s deception fooled even Mephisto. You really think he doesn’t know what kind of man he hired? You think he wouldn’t have taken precautions?"

Years ago, when Blackheart had rebelled against Hell, Mephisto had dealt with the situation almost casually. He had crushed the rebellion with barely a hint of panic.

Yet now, faced with Locke’s schemes, even Mephisto seemed to be scrambling.

That told Evenson everything he needed to know.

Locke was careful. Calculating. Deeply paranoid.

There was no way a man like that would casually reveal his location to a mercenary with Carrigan’s reputation.

"I’ll bet you anything Carrigan doesn’t know where Locke is."

Evenson paused.

He had intended to name a wager, but after a moment’s thought, he decided against it.

Instead, he grabbed Moru by the shoulder.

"I’ll cut off his head and let you use it as a soccer ball."

Moru stared at him.

He looked genuinely bewildered.

Why was his head suddenly part of the wager?

The disagreement was between Evenson and Melinda. Why was Moru getting decapitated over it?

"But..."

Melinda gritted her teeth and pointed at the monitor.

"There’s an innocent child down there who’s in danger. You’re really going to sit here and watch?"

Moru immediately seized on that.

"That’s not what you promised me."

He looked directly at Evenson.

"You said I’d be allowed to take the child back to the Sanctum."

"If you say one more word, I’ll throw you out of this aircraft."

Evenson’s voice turned cold.

The two SHIELD operatives standing behind Moru immediately placed their hands on his shoulders, making it clear they were prepared to carry out the threat.

Evenson then turned toward Melinda.

His expression hardened.

"Agent Melinda May. Level Eight. Follow orders."

Evenson didn’t technically hold SHIELD field authority.

But Nick Fury had appointed him commander of this operation.

Melinda could only glare at him before reluctantly stepping back.

She was furious.

But she obeyed.

For the moment.

"Is this really the only option?"

Once Melinda had stalked away, Clea approached Evenson.

She was conflicted.

Everything she’d been taught at Kamar-Taj told her that Evenson’s decision was strategically sound. They couldn’t afford to ruin their plan simply because emotions had entered the equation.

But the human part of her couldn’t accept standing by while an innocent woman was put in danger.

"They’re not going to kill the kid right away," Evenson said, leaning over the table. "What’s the rush?"

"But what about the mother?"

Clea pressed the point.

She understood perfectly well that the men hunting them couldn’t simply kill the Son of the Devil. The child was too important.

Nadia, however, was another matter.

She had outlived her usefulness to Locke.

Would she survive once they had what they wanted?

"She should have died thirteen years ago."

Evenson’s voice was quiet.

"The Devil kept her alive because she was useful to him. He extended her life so that she could..."

He stopped.

His tongue pressed briefly against his teeth.

Then his eyes closed.

He fell silent, thinking.

Down in the lower section of the aircraft, Melinda was currently beating a sandbag as though it were Evenson’s face.

Her fist stopped in midair.

She stood there for a moment, confused by her own thoughts.

Then the corner of her mouth lifted.

"So you did grow a conscience after all."

A short while later, the aircraft suddenly lurched.

An alarm shrieked through the cabin.

"Stay calm! Stay calm!"

Rumlow immediately raised his voice over the noise.

"We’re not under attack!"

He looked up at the flashing warning lights.

His expression became puzzled.

"It’s a decompression warning."

Everyone froze.

Why would an aircraft suddenly lose pressure?

Had SHIELD started cutting corners on maintenance? Was the plane literally leaking air in midflight?

Evenson briefly wondered whether working for SHIELD had been a terrible career decision after all.

Then the pilot’s voice came through the communications system.

"Sir... it’s Agent May."

Evenson waited.

"She blew open a section of the lower hull and parachuted out."

"I see."

Everyone turned toward him.

Evenson remained remarkably calm in the face of such blatant insubordination.

"Let her go."

That woman.

He’d told her to go down there and do her job. She could have simply done exactly that.

Instead, she’d blown a hole in the aircraft on her way out.

Who was she trying to prove a point to?

Whatever.

At this rate, she probably wasn’t getting a paycheck for the rest of her career anyway.

Melinda’s little stunt had thrown the aircraft into chaos.

Rumlow immediately put on an oxygen mask and personally led several operatives to seal the breach.

Even while working, he couldn’t help thinking that Melinda’s temper was genuinely terrifying.

As the senior commander aboard the aircraft, Evenson naturally went to the front lines to oversee the emergency response.

He stopped in the laboratory located in the lower section of the aircraft.

The facility itself was reasonably well equipped. It had simply never been properly used, which meant some of the finer details were still unfinished.

Clea found him there.

"You changed your mind."

She folded her arms.

Nobody else had noticed, but she had.

She knew exactly what had happened.

Evenson had used their mental link to send Melinda a message.

"Got soft, I guess."

Evenson poked experimentally through the laboratory equipment.

Then, with a faint grin, he added, "Maybe I just decided the woman was attractive and felt sorry for her."

"Hmph."

Clea rolled her eyes.

She didn’t believe that ridiculous excuse for a second.

The woman was a mother. Her child was already thirteen.

There was no way Evenson would...

Her eyes suddenly sharpened.

Wait.

Those two female demons he’d dealt with before were considerably older.

Clea’s expression went cold.

Evenson, completely unaware that he’d just wandered into extremely dangerous territory, was busy examining a miniature blood-drawing device.

The Son of the Devil was incredibly rare.

But a woman capable of carrying demonic power and successfully giving birth to a demonic child probably wasn’t ordinary either.

Which meant Nadia’s blood might be worth studying.

He reached for the device.

"Ow! Ow, ow, ow!"

Clea had grabbed both his ears.

"I was joking!"

She twisted harder.

"Then explain yourself!"

Evenson winced.

"You suddenly changed your mind at the last possible moment. Tell me what you’re really planning!"

"I said I was joking!"

"You’re going to explain yourself properly."

"Clea, my ears!"

She wasn’t listening.

For the moment, Evenson’s grand strategic operation had been reduced to surviving an interrogation by the Sorceress Supreme’s most irritated apprentice.

And judging by the grip on his ears, this interrogation was going to hurt.

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