The three "police officers" weren’t police at all.
They were S.H.I.E.L.D. agents assigned to monitor Evenson.
The man posing as the sergeant was the very same agent who had driven Evenson to rescue Tony Stark not long ago.
Otherwise, there was no way the NYPD could have arrived that quickly.
Taylor had barely moved before they were already on the scene.
Even New York traffic couldn’t bend space-time.
As for the real police...
One phone call from S.H.I.E.L.D. had quietly redirected them elsewhere.
Their assignment consisted of two primary objectives.
First, observe Evenson from a distance.
Second, prevent his supernatural abilities from becoming public knowledge whenever possible.
Open displays of magic in downtown New York tended to cause complications.
Earlier that morning, they’d been sitting comfortably in their surveillance apartment, eating takeout pizza while watching Evenson through binoculars.
Monitoring, not spying.
There was definitely a difference.
One of them had only looked down long enough to take a sip of cola before spotting an overdressed idiot marching up to challenge their target in broad daylight.
Every man on the team belonged to S.H.I.E.L.D.’s second surveillance rotation.
Unlike the inexperienced agents who had gone before them, these men all had experience monitoring enhanced individuals.
Unfortunately, that experience had left them with a very bleak opinion of people possessing extraordinary abilities.
Nick Fury himself had briefed them.
His instructions had been surprisingly vague.
Observe from a distance.
Never disturb the target.
Never conduct close surveillance.
Cover for him whenever possible.
Prevent public exposure.
That was all.
Still, none of them found it difficult to fill in the blanks.
Someone who required that many precautions had to be exceptionally dangerous.
Every enhanced individual they’d monitored in the past had been, without exception, an awful human being.
Their powers varied.
Their personalities did not.
Violent.
Arrogant.
Vindictive.
The stronger they were, the less they tolerated anyone offending them.
One member of the surveillance team, the agent who’d nearly drowned in his own sweat earlier, had once monitored a particularly memorable case.
The man had looked like a bodybuilding champion with the face of a movie star.
He also had the habit of murdering entire families over minor insults.
When S.H.I.E.L.D. tried negotiating with him, he’d responded by killing the agents sent to talk.
Eventually, someone slipped a neurotoxin into his breakfast milk.
Problem solved.
Compared to monsters like that, Evenson should have terrified them even more.
Melinda certainly thought so.
Every few days she’d stop by to remind them what had happened to the previous surveillance team.
Those agents, she’d claim with complete seriousness, would be spending the rest of their lives in psychiatric hospitals.
Whether she exaggerated or not, nobody wanted to test it.
Yet after watching Evenson for weeks...
Their fear slowly faded.
He rarely did anything unusual.
Aside from the occasional person climbing through a second-story window late at night and never being seen again, he lived an astonishingly ordinary life.
If they had to point out anything remarkable...
It was that he seemed perpetually broke.
Then Coulson called.
The illusion shattered.
Evenson had known about their surveillance all along.
He openly admitted driving the previous team insane.
Then they watched footage of him defeating an armored monster with casual ease.
Any confidence they’d regained immediately evaporated.
Several agents quietly began updating their wills.
So when Justin Hammer picked a fight with Evenson...
The surveillance team nearly choked on their drinks.
Please... not in the middle of the street.
If Evenson decided to answer with fire raining from the sky, there would be no containing the panic.
They changed into police uniforms and rushed outside.
Too late.
One man was already screaming on the pavement with a shattered arm.
The other had drawn a gun.
The agents’ hearts sank.
This looked unsalvageable.
Still, they had orders.
They forced themselves between both sides, praying they wouldn’t become collateral damage.
Instead...
Evenson simply let the matter drop.
The agents were stunned.
For someone with that level of power...
He was practically a saint.
They immediately swore, with absolute sincerity, that Evenson would have a brand-new bicycle before sunset.
Then they fled before he could change his mind.
Watching them disappear, Evenson returned to the shop and dropped into a chair.
"They looked like they’d seen a ghost."
He rubbed his temples.
"Am I really that scary?"
Unfortunately, he asked the wrong audience.
Taylor snorted.
"Why didn’t you let me kill that piece of trash?"
"Those mortals couldn’t have stopped me."
He still seemed annoyed that Justin Hammer had walked away alive.
Evenson glanced at him.
"Drawing your sword and settling everything with blood."
"That’s courage for a brute."
"It suits a Demon Guard."
Taylor grinned proudly, somehow taking that as praise.
"But that’s not how I operate."
Evenson’s eyes narrowed.
"I’m a warlock."
"And Justin Hammer still has value."
"I’ll squeeze every last drop of usefulness out of him..."
"...before I decide what to do next."
He pulled out his phone.
Before making the call, he removed the SIM card and replaced it with another.
Only then did he dial.
The line connected.
"Mr. Howard West."
"It’s Wesker."
Howard West’s voice answered almost immediately.
"Mr. Wesker."
"How have you been?"
"Honestly?"
"Not especially well."
Evenson’s tone remained casual.
"S.H.I.E.L.D. seems to have learned our company exists."
"Any idea how that happened?"
There was a brief silence.
"...How would I know?"
Howard replied smoothly.
Evenson didn’t press the issue.
"Fine."
"It doesn’t really matter."
"S.H.I.E.L.D. still has no idea where to find us."
"So I’ll let it go."
"But I do need a favor."
"What kind of favor?"
Howard’s thoughts immediately raced.
Did Umbrella want an introduction to another Hydra division?
Was Wesker trying to expand their partnership?
Instead, Evenson said,
"I need you to introduce me to someone."
"Who?"
"Justin Hammer."
Howard blinked.
"...Who?"
"Justin Hammer?"
"That third-rate arms dealer?"
He couldn’t hide his disbelief.
Why would Umbrella Corporation have any interest in that vulgar upstart?
And why would someone like him deserve a personal introduction?
"That’s right."
"Justin Hammer."
Evenson’s smile slowly widened.
"I have an opportunity I’d like to give him."
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