Sorcerer in the Marvel Universe

Nick Fury stood before the floor-to-ceiling windows of his office, hands clasped behind his back as he looked out across the S.H.I.E.L.D. complex.

He hated desk work.

He was an operator by nature, someone who preferred being in the field instead of buried beneath reports and briefings. Unfortunately, running S.H.I.E.L.D. meant accepting a simple truth. Plenty of agents could carry out missions.

Only one person could coordinate them all.

His reflection remained perfectly still in the glass, more statue than man. The deep crease between his brows suggested his thoughts had wandered somewhere unpleasant.

The ringing phone interrupted them.

Fury crossed the room and hit the speaker button.

"Report."

The voice on the other end was clearly accustomed to his tone.

"Director, Agent Coulson has returned."

Exactly as ordered.

"Send him to my office immediately."

"Yes, sir."

Fury paused, remembering something.

"And one more thing."

"Sir?"

"The dog he’s bringing."

A faint sigh escaped him.

"Take it straight to the cafeteria."

A beat of silence followed.

"...Understood, Director."

Coulson had originally flown to Afghanistan aboard the same aircraft as Tony Stark. His official assignment had been to assist the U.S. military in locating the missing industrialist.

That mission had become little more than convenient cover.

Once Stark had been recovered, Fury quietly reassigned him to a far more sensitive operation.

During a refueling stop, Coulson left Habus in Pepper Potts’ care, giving the unusually intelligent dog one very firm instruction.

"Don’t talk."

Habus had merely rolled his eyes.

From there, Coulson transferred onto a military cargo plane bound for one of S.H.I.E.L.D.’s classified research facilities.

The transport hadn’t even finished taxiing before armored security teams surrounded it, sealing off every possible approach.

Under the watchful eyes of dozens of agents, the cargo ramp lowered.

Coulson stepped out first.

Behind him came five massive cryogenic containment pods.

The soldiers who had escorted them barely had time to unload the containers before S.H.I.E.L.D. personnel assumed custody.

Coulson turned to the military escort.

"Thank you for the transport. There’s another airfield roughly six hundred miles east. You’ll receive fuel, supplies, and accommodations there."

It was a polite dismissal.

This facility housed projects that existed well above the clearance level of ordinary military personnel.

The soldiers understood.

Without complaint, they boarded their aircraft and departed.

Inside the laboratory, the cryogenic chambers were wheeled into an examination bay.

Coulson addressed the waiting scientists.

"The Director wants a complete analysis as soon as possible."

The pods opened one after another.

Each contained the corpse of one of the corrupted creatures Evenson had created in Afghanistan.

Some bodies were mostly intact.

Others had been painstakingly reconstructed from frozen chunks of mangled flesh.

A young female researcher stared into the nearest chamber.

"...Incredible."

"Five identical mutants," the man beside her said.

She immediately shook her head.

"They only appear identical. Until we complete genetic testing, that’s an assumption."

"Their physical similarity is well above ninety percent," he argued. "Genetically they’ll almost certainly match."

"Not necessarily. External appearance can be altered. Surgical reconstruction. Artificial modification."

"I think they’re fundamentally the same organism. They could even be quintuplets."

"They could."

"They probably are."

"No. That’s still only your hypothesis."

"And I fully expect it to be proven correct."

The pair continued debating as if no one else existed.

Coulson exchanged an awkward glance with the surrounding staff.

Someone coughed politely.

The laboratory director hurried over with an apologetic smile.

"Jemma Simmons. Leo Fitz."

He gestured toward the still-arguing scientists.

"Two of our brightest researchers."

Without missing a beat, Simmons replied, "Until proper analysis is complete, every conclusion is only a hypothesis."

Fitz folded his arms.

"I agree. Mine just happens to be the right one."

Simmons smiled sweetly.

"That’s exactly what I was about to say."

The director sighed.

"They... tend to disappear into their work."

Coulson couldn’t help smiling.

"As long as they disappear into it quickly."

Leaving the scientists to their analysis, he headed back toward the helipad.

His next stop was New York.

More specifically, Stark Industries.

Leaving Habus behind had been unavoidable.

A classified research facility was the last place Coulson wanted a dog wandering around. Especially that dog.

Habus looked like an ordinary canine.

He was almost certainly smarter than most people.

If the dog saw the inside of a S.H.I.E.L.D. black site, Evenson would probably know every detail before sunset.

And considering Habus’ complete lack of loyalty where treats were concerned...

Coulson had disturbing confidence that someone could probably buy classified intelligence with a premium bag of dog food.

Granted, no sane intelligence officer would think to interrogate a Labrador.

He hoped.

When Coulson arrived, Tony Stark happened to be holding a press conference.

Rather than interrupt, Coulson chatted briefly with Pepper Potts, collected Habus, clipped on the leash, and quietly left.

Returning the dog to Evenson could wait.

Reporting to Fury couldn’t.

The moment Coulson entered headquarters, someone called his name.

"The Director’s waiting for you."

He turned to find Melinda May.

Instead of her usual tactical attire, she wore a cream-colored skirt and a white blouse, fitting for her current desk assignment.

For a moment, Coulson almost didn’t recognize her.

"I’ll take the dog," May said. "Director Fury doesn’t want to see it."

Coulson laughed, remembering Habus’ first encounter with Fury.

"One piece of advice."

He handed her the leash.

"Don’t talk to him."

Before May could ask what that meant, Coulson had already disappeared down the hallway.

She looked down at the dog.

Habus looked back.

Neither spoke.

"The mutant bodies have been delivered to the research facility," Coulson reported after entering Fury’s office. "They should have preliminary findings soon."

Fury nodded.

"I know."

He folded his hands on the desk.

"I called you here for something else."

Coulson suppressed a sigh.

One crisis after another.

He hadn’t even had time to unpack.

"Early this morning..."

Fury had barely begun when the office door burst open.

An agent hurried inside, breathing hard.

"Director!"

Everyone turned toward him.

"The military only handed over two of the bodies."

...

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