"Master," the android asked Solomon, who had just landed on the ground, "what should we do with this boy? And those mercenaries—they're not all dead."
"Send them to hell." The mystic waved impatiently from atop Pegasus. "Later, we'll bring the boy's mother and Johnny Blaze over and hand them to the priest. Since Mephisto needs this boy, all we have to do is keep watch over them—just make sure the priest doesn't perform any purification ritual before the devil's avatar shows up. I want you to stay close to this boy at all times. After all, without bait, how are we going to catch the big fish?"
"Master, what I meant was, how are we going to transport the boy and his mother back? Pegasus isn't willing to carry so many people." Hearing this, Solomon quickly looked down at Pegasus. The horse's big, moist eyes brimmed with disdain, as if accusing him of not buying a car. The scene was almost comical. Solomon hurriedly bribed Pegasus with candy to prevent it from intentionally tossing its passengers later—something the creature was perfectly capable of and had done more than once. Treating Pegasus like one of those coin-operated kiddie rides at the entrance of a supermarket, Solomon quickly handed over some snacks to keep the celestial horse in a good mood.
"Move them aside, including that tar-covered Ghost Rider," Solomon instructed. Pulling out his phone, he thought for a moment and first dialed the London Sanctum of Kamar-Taj to explain the situation. Then he sent his coordinates to Nick Fury. Realizing he was still being too careless, he took out two pairs of handcuffs from his dimensional pouch and ordered the android to cuff both the boy's mother and the Ghost Rider.
Some time passed before a Quinjet landed in front of Solomon and Pegasus. "About time," Solomon said mockingly as Nick Fury stepped off the aircraft. "Do you see those flashing lights? Even ambulances in border towns arrive faster than you guys. Are you sure these Quinjets are worth the price?"
"You little punk," Nick Fury shot back, raising his middle finger. "Do you have the devil's spawn with you?"
Solomon motioned with his finger, and the android stepped out from the shadows, carrying the boy in her arms. Her sudden and silent appearance startled a few of Fury's agents, nearly causing them to open fire. "This is the boy," Solomon said, "along with the Ghost Rider and the boy's mother. Don't look at me like that. If I didn't need you as my movers, I wouldn't have stuck around here so long."
"What's the plan now?" Fury asked as Agent Melinda May took the boy from the android. The medics aboard the Quinjet began examining the boy's condition. "Are you sure this is the kid? He doesn't have horns or anything," Fury added. "I thought the devil's spawn would at least have wings."
"He's still too young," Solomon explained. "He hasn't yet received the gift of the devil's blood. But that day isn't far off. If we don't deal with him, it's only a matter of time before he summons Mephisto's true form."
Agent May was visibly unhappy with Solomon's response. "Deal with him?" she questioned the mystic. "What do you mean by that?"
"That's the priest's job." Solomon shrugged. "But until the boy's father shows up, I won't agree to any purification rituals, whether it's prayers or whatever else. Nick Fury, if you want results, you should follow my plan. Wait for the mob of arms dealers, drug traffickers, mercenaries, and devil-worshiping cults summoned by Mephisto's avatar to come after this boy. That's when you'll get what you want."
"Fine," Fury said with a nod. "Father Moru gave me an address—it's the location for the purification ritual. He's already on the Quinjet. Are you coming with us?"
"Of course." Solomon nodded. "Do you really think I'd still be waiting here if I wasn't trying to avoid extra effort?"
Solomon took a nap aboard the Quinjet, and at this moment, he was grateful he'd applied his necromancy research to the android. The hard plane seats couldn't compare to the softness of the android's lap. Across from him, Father Moru was sprawled out in his seat, clearly drunk. Solomon had no idea how the priest had managed to get alcohol aboard the Quinjet, but it was probably thanks to Fury and his penchant for keeping a stash on the S.H.I.E.L.D. helicarrier.
The mystic paid little attention to the S.H.I.E.L.D. medics as they ran various tests on the boy, his mother, and the Ghost Rider. He knew they wouldn't find anything meaningful. Instead, he was more focused on the boy's mother. Shortly after the Quinjet took off, she woke up in a state of panic, thrashing and biting at anyone near her. The agents subdued her, and it wasn't until after she calmed down that Father Moru—still not entirely drunk—explained the situation to her. Agent May also informed her of the mercenaries' fate—the lack of space on the Quinjet meant their bodies had been left behind.
"Thank God," Nadia said, tears streaming down her face. "I'm finally free of them."
The Quinjet gave a slight shake as it began to descend. Soon after, the rear hatch opened, and the medics and agents escorted the Ghost Rider, the boy, and his mother off the aircraft. When the boy's mother asked where they were, Agent May's reply was curt: "The helicarrier."
"Master, what kind of purification ritual do you think it will be?" the android asked Solomon, who had just woken up and was trying to linger on her lap. "Do you think it'll be a baptism? I read that baptism is a very important ceremony in the Abrahamic religions."
"No, the boy has already been baptized. And the Catholic Church isn't Baptist—they don't do rebaptisms." Solomon realized he could no longer pretend to sleep. Sitting up, he stretched, listening to his joints crack. "If you ask me, the safest solution is to just kill the boy outright. That way, even if we fail, Mephisto won't get his hands on him. Of course, that's a solution many people won't agree with—especially Agent May. When I mentioned 'dealing with' the boy, she looked ready to tear me to pieces, like she was his mother or something."
"We need to regroup," Agent May said coldly as she entered the Quinjet, issuing an ultimatum to Solomon and Father Moru, who were still aboard. "Then the action team will accompany you to the ritual site."
"Good." Solomon nodded, then pointed to the priest slumped across from him. "But first, make sure to hide the alcohol in the bar. I don't want this drunkard completely passing out—we still need him."
May didn't respond, instead walking off the Quinjet and heading back to the helicarrier's command center.
"See? She's still holding a grudge," Solomon remarked as he stood up. He approached the priest and slapped him awake. "Get up, drunkard."
"Are we there?" Father Moru yawned and stretched. "I'm so thirsty…"
"There's no alcohol here. Stay sharp," Solomon replied, leading the android off the Quinjet. "Hurry up. We're about to face a whole pack of Mephisto's minions."
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