"Sign here... here... and here."
The desk sergeant slid the stack of release papers across the counter to the man in dark sunglasses.
Phil Coulson signed each line without a word, accepted the paperwork, and led the two detainees out of the precinct.
The moment they stepped onto the sidewalk, he let out a weary sigh.
"You never fail to surprise me, Mr. Richter."
He glanced over his shoulder at Evenson.
"Of all the people I expected to bail out today, I never imagined it would be you. Arrested by ordinary police, no less."
Evenson spread his hands helplessly.
"What was I supposed to do? Kill the officer?"
He sounded genuinely aggrieved.
"And honestly, I had no idea something this minor would turn into such a disaster."
"Minor?"
Coulson spun around dramatically.
"Driving without a license. Driving an unregistered vehicle. Excessive speeding. Reckless driving."
He counted each charge on his fingers.
"Do you realize those alone could have landed you behind bars for quite a while?"
Then he turned to Sarah, who immediately put on her most innocent expression.
"And you."
"Forged identification."
"Suspected illegal immigration."
"Threatening a police officer."
"If those charges stick, deportation would be the least of your worries."
Sarah rolled her eyes.
I’d love to see them deport me back to the Twisting Nether.
She crossed her arms.
"He kept staring at me."
"So I threatened him."
Coulson rubbed his temples.
This had become the strangest assignment of his career.
Nick Fury had instructed him to bring Evenson in for an important discussion, one that might have implications far beyond either of them.
Instead, Coulson’s phone call had been answered with the news that Evenson had been arrested and needed bail.
He still remembered Fury’s expression after hearing that report.
The man capable of effortlessly destroying a technologically advanced armored monstrosity...
The same man bold enough to negotiate with the Director of S.H.I.E.L.D...
...had been hauled into a local police station.
The contrast was almost surreal.
Still, this entire mess had been Evenson’s own fault.
After being broke for so long, he’d finally gotten his hands on a car of his own.
Not just any car, either.
A spectacular one.
Naturally, he couldn’t resist taking it out for a late-night drive with Sarah.
By the time they hit the open road, common sense had completely abandoned him.
No driver’s license.
No registration.
Speed limits.
All forgotten.
The evening ended with five patrol cars boxing him in at a police roadblock.
As for Sarah...
One officer had looked at her a little too long, so she’d calmly informed him she intended to kick him hard enough to ensure he never had children.
That added another charge to the list.
Had everything been prosecuted to the fullest extent, they could easily have faced years behind bars.
"Relax."
Evenson waved dismissively.
"I’m not in prison, am I?"
He shrugged.
"I figured Fury wouldn’t leave me sitting in a jail cell."
Coulson’s expression hardened.
"Don’t rely on that."
"If you ever cross the line for real, you won’t end up in an ordinary prison."
He wasn’t exaggerating.
Nick Fury had no intention of letting someone like Evenson languish in a conventional jail.
The risks were obvious.
One foolish inmate, one heated argument, and an entire correctional facility could disappear in green fire.
That didn’t mean Evenson was above the law.
If his mistakes came from carelessness rather than malice, and no one was seriously harmed, Fury was willing to overlook a great deal because of Evenson’s unique circumstances.
But if Evenson ever abused his power for selfish reasons, hurting innocent people simply because he could...
Fury would personally see him locked inside a facility built for individuals exactly like him.
And once there, every useful secret he possessed would eventually be extracted.
"I know where the line is," Evenson replied quietly.
"I’ve already had your car returned to your shop."
Coulson unlocked the driver’s door.
"Your driver’s license should be processed soon."
He pointed a finger toward Evenson.
"Until then, you’re not driving."
Evenson and Sarah climbed into the back seat while Coulson started the engine.
Watching them through the rearview mirror, he hesitated.
"We’re on a tight schedule."
"I wasn’t instructed to make another stop."
He nodded toward Sarah.
"Would it be all right if she headed home on her own?"
S.H.I.E.L.D. Headquarters wasn’t somewhere civilians were invited.
His orders were to bring Evenson.
No one else.
Evenson chuckled.
"You’re really going to leave a lady to find her own way home?"
"What happened to your gentlemanly manners, Coulson?"
Besides..."
He smiled.
"I don’t keep secrets from her."
Coulson’s eyebrows climbed.
"Oh?"
His gaze bounced between them in the mirror.
"I see..."
Sarah sighed loudly.
"Don’t get the wrong idea."
She leaned against the window.
"He just doesn’t want to pay for my taxi."
"I honestly don’t know what possessed me to work for someone this cheap."
Coulson didn’t believe her for a second.
He simply smiled and pulled into traffic.
"I’m grateful," he said after a moment, "that you handled the arrest the way you did."
When Fury first learned Evenson had been detained, surprise had quickly given way to relief.
It proved something important.
Evenson understood boundaries.
There was an enormous difference between killing gangsters and killing police officers carrying out their duty.
The former could, under certain circumstances, be justified.
The latter threatened the very order S.H.I.E.L.D. existed to protect.
That was something Fury would never tolerate.
Evenson rested his chin on one hand and stared out the window.
"What else was I supposed to do?"
He sounded bored.
"Set the officers on fire over a traffic stop?"
"My brain isn’t broken."
"If more people thought like that," Coulson said, "my job would be much easier."
"Unfortunately, some people get a little power and immediately believe they’re untouchable."
"They always make everything worse."
"They should be put down," Evenson replied flatly.
"Self-control is power."
"If you can’t control your own abilities, you’re just a danger to everyone else."
He shrugged.
"And besides..."
"My car is one of a kind."
"The second they reported it over the radio, there wasn’t exactly any chance I could pretend it wasn’t me."
Evenson wasn’t a bloodthirsty psychopath who solved every inconvenience with murder.
Nor was he some saint incapable of violence.
He simply saw no value in slaughtering people over trivial problems, especially when they were only doing their jobs.
"Enough about that."
He waved the subject away.
"So why does Director Fury want me?"
He grinned.
"Presenting me with a Model Citizen medal?"
"If you really want one," Coulson replied with a laugh, "I’m sure we could arrange it."
"As for why he wants to see you..."
"You’ll find out soon enough."
Evenson nodded thoughtfully.
"Then I want the medal made of solid gold."
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