Sorcerer in the Marvel Universe

So that was it.

S.H.I.E.L.D. was going to become the Hell Construction Authority?

Their agents would spend eternity laying bricks and pouring foundations in Hell, contributing to the construction of a shiny new afterlife.

Strangely enough, of everything Mephisto had offered, this was the proposal Nick Fury cared about most.

The earlier offers weren’t tempting because Fury wasn’t impressed.

He simply wasn’t insane enough to accept them.

Three billion pounds?

Then priceless works of art?

And then an entire city?

Who in their right mind would accept a bribe like that?

This last offer was different.

There was no obvious material benefit, but it had struck directly at the one thing Fury cared about most.

Nick Fury had been Director of S.H.I.E.L.D. for years. He knew exactly what the organization had done in the name of protecting the world.

The official mission was noble enough.

The methods?

"Questionable" would have been an extremely generous description.

It wasn’t surprising that a large number of S.H.I.E.L.D. agents would eventually find themselves in Hell.

That didn’t mean Fury was willing to accept it.

If an agent died protecting world peace, that was part of the job. S.H.I.E.L.D. agents understood the risks when they signed up. They were prepared to die.

But spending eternity being tortured after death?

That was another matter entirely.

If there was any way to lessen the suffering waiting for them on the other side, Fury wanted it.

And there was another problem.

If ordinary S.H.I.E.L.D. agents were going to Hell, what did that say about the man who had spent decades directing the entire organization?

Fury wasn’t exactly looking forward to his own afterlife.

Planning ahead seemed reasonable.

"It’s the easiest work in Hell," Mephisto continued, still selling the proposal. "Construction and manual labor aren’t even considered part of the formal punishment system. For centuries, I’ve had demons handle that work."

He spread his hands.

"If we weren’t in the middle of a very unusual situation and I didn’t need to expand the construction crews, you wouldn’t even have this opportunity."

Evenson silently turned his head away.

Mephisto really was a slippery old bastard.

Hell was overcrowded. They were running out of room. Expanding the workforce and accelerating construction of new prisons was an obvious solution.

And somehow, Mephisto had managed to turn something he desperately needed into a personal favor.

Then again...

Evenson reconsidered.

It made sense.

Someone had to do the work. With Hell apparently containing enough souls to rival the population of Earth, there were probably plenty of people willing to claw their way toward the privilege.

Mephisto had simply chosen to offer the opportunity to S.H.I.E.L.D.

That counted as a favor.

The phrase very unusual situation hadn’t escaped Fury’s attention.

"Your offer," he said carefully, "is it a permanent policy, or merely an emergency measure?"

That was what concerned him.

What if this arrangement only lasted while Hell was overcrowded?

What if Fury died ten years from now, arrived in Hell, and discovered that the crisis was over and the program had been discontinued?

He’d spend years negotiating employee benefits for S.H.I.E.L.D. and then die before getting to use them.

That would be a spectacularly cruel joke.

"It’s permanent."

Mephisto had clearly seen the concern in Fury’s expression.

"This situation taught me a valuable lesson. Standing still is a dead end. There must always be room for expansion and development."

He paused.

"Naturally, once the current crisis is over, the frontier construction crews will be reduced in size."

Fury’s expression tightened.

"But I can guarantee this. Every S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, without exception, will have a place in the program."

"Good."

Fury nodded.

For once, a genuine smile appeared on his face.

"I accept."

Then he raised one finger.

"But I have an additional condition."

"By all means."

Mephisto leaned back against the couch, looking perfectly relaxed.

Fury’s expression became more guarded.

"You know something about S.H.I.E.L.D. already, don’t you?"

"I’ve heard a thing or two."

Mephisto chose his words carefully.

"Close enough."

"For an organization like ours, secrets are everything."

Fury’s voice was strangely casual.

"We uncover other people’s secrets and protect our own."

He paused.

"We have a lot of secrets. I’ve probably overlooked a few."

His single eye fixed on Mephisto.

"Could you ask some of the agents currently in your care about them and bring the information back to me?"

Fury had known for a long time that Hydra had infiltrated S.H.I.E.L.D.

The problem was that he couldn’t identify all of the infiltrators.

It had been driving him crazy.

Now he had an opportunity sitting directly in front of him.

Every S.H.I.E.L.D. agent who died would eventually reach Hell.

Hydra agents had even more reason to end up there.

And the Lord of Hell was sitting across from him.

If Mephisto could interrogate the dead Hydra operatives and extract information from them, Fury might finally be able to identify the living members of Hydra still hiding inside S.H.I.E.L.D.

It was almost too perfect.

"Mm-hmm."

Mephisto gave him a polite smile.

Then he leaned forward.

"No."

Fury blinked.

"What?"

The refusal had been so immediate that it genuinely caught him off guard.

He’d assumed this would be easy.

What difficulty could the Lord of Hell possibly have getting a few dead sinners to talk?

"Dead men cannot speak."

Mephisto’s voice was calm.

"Once someone dies, they no longer belong to this world. They have no business interfering with it."

"But if that’s the case, then it’s going to be very difficult for me to..."

Fury tried to push the issue.

Mephisto cut him off.

"Do not mistake my generosity for weakness."

The warmth vanished from his voice.

"I don’t need this visa."

His gaze locked onto Fury’s.

"I’m negotiating with you because I respect you enough to do so."

He paused.

"If you refuse to respect that gesture, then the hand I’ve been holding up so gently..."

His smile disappeared.

"...can come down just as hard."

Fury’s eye twitched.

Silence settled over the room.

Until now, Mephisto had been remarkably cooperative. Friendly, even.

Perhaps, as he claimed, it had been a gesture of respect.

Perhaps Mephisto simply preferred negotiating this way.

Either way, Fury had unconsciously fallen into the trap of thinking he was in control.

He wasn’t.

The man sitting across from him wasn’t someone Fury could simply pressure into doing whatever he wanted.

"Okay, this is getting uncomfortable."

Evenson stepped in before the tension could become something worse.

"You’re not seriously going to start threatening him with the souls in Hell, are you?"

Mephisto looked directly at Fury.

"Coercion is a crude tool."

His voice was perfectly calm.

"I don’t like using it."

A beat passed.

"That doesn’t mean I won’t."

"Right."

Evenson reached over and patted Fury on the shoulder.

"Let’s not talk about that one."

Fury looked as though he wanted to say something else.

Evenson caught his eye and gave him a pointed look.

Some disputes could wait.

There was always tomorrow.

Fury understood immediately.

He nodded.

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