Later, as the lights dimmed, Mindy and Anny fell asleep together on the couch watching tv. As Evelyn put a blanket on them and turned off the tv before bidding goodnight to James and going to her own room. James stood at the window, hands in his pockets, watching the city glow as everyone fell asleep.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Mindy was happy during the summer vacation, except for the time when Anny was lost, and James took Mindy everywhere to play. Tony Stark's private jet was so heavily used that James decided to get his own one next time. It was finally time for Mindy to go to school again, and Anny didn't have to take that damn plane anymore. She could sleep for a long time every day. Evelyn Salt, on the other hand, felt that she could finally relax. The job of being his personal assistant seemed to be more work than she had expected. There were so many things to do in one summer vacation. She did not understand the world of the rich, but she was also rewarded with a car purchase. As James's personal assistant, she needed to have a good car, which he bought for her to keep permanently.
James, on the other hand, received a call from Phil Coulson. He needed to go back to headquarters to work. The details of his work were still unknown, but he needed to go back to Washington.
"Evelyn, you can stay in the office here in New York. Help me keep an eye on the development of the company. Make sure to be available to accept my call at any time."
After James said this, he drove his sports car toward the Washington S.H.I.E.L.D. Headquarters.
The Helicarrier's shadow loomed far above the Potomac when he arrived. Washington's air always carried a smell of bureaucracy—polished metal, jet exhaust, and expensive perfume. He'd missed none of it.
Maria Hill met him at the entrance, hair pinned, uniform in professional order. They hadn't seen each other for a month.
"Welcome back, Agent Gibson. How's the vacation life treating the legend of New York?"
He smirked. "Less quiet than expected. You'd be surprised how loud Disneyland is with all those Disney adults and screaming children."
She shook her head, amused, then handed him a datapad. "Director wants you fully briefed before tomorrow. Would you like to have dinner?"
"I thought you'd never asked," James said. They went that evening—nothing formal, just a quiet conversation in a restaurant that pretended to be French. For the first time in months, James noticed she didn't watch her surroundings like an agent. For a brief second, it felt normal.
When he returned to the apartment S.H.I.E.L.D. kept for him, Athena's voice was already waiting, soft and reverent.
{Messiah, the Council's eyes drift upon the East Wind. Surveillance drones sweep but none dare linger on your path. The Helicarrier awaits your next command.}
"Keep it dormant for now," he murmured. "We're staying grounded at this time."
The next morning, Phil Coulson waited in his office, the blinds half-drawn. His tie looked like it hadn't moved since 2008.
"James," Coulson greeted, gesturing toward the chair. "Summer's almost over. It felt like it passed too fast"
"It wasn't such a bad summer," James said, settling in. "Took Mindy everywhere. The cat's happier than most agents I know. So, what's the job this time?"
Coulson leaned back, folding his hands. "Originally, the Director wanted you reassigned to several branches for deep identification missions—but that's… becoming complicated. You're too visible now. Hydra's watching harder, and your face is front-page material thanks to that League investment deal. So, infiltration's out."
James shrugged. "I can't exactly hide when half the tech industry calls me for a chance to have lunch meetings."
"Exactly. So, we must pivot from it." Coulson hesitated, then added, "I'll give you a dangerous assignment instead. Something off the grid. You up for that?"
"Dangerous's relative," James said, half a smile playing. "Depends on what kind of danger we're talking about."
Coulson slid a file across the desk. "Dr. Bruce Banner."
James raised a brow. "You want me to what, fight him?"
"Just monitor him," Coulson corrected. "He's been quiet since the Harlem incident. Hiding in South America. You worked with Stark when we solved his reactor issue—you know what gamma exposure can do. Under normal circumstances, nobody can stop him. But if you're there, at least we can control the fallout."
James exhaled slowly. "You're asking me to watch the man who turns into a green juggernaut every time he gets pissed off."
"Pretty much."
He opened the file. Looking into the satellite images. Showing the thermal maps of Rio de Janeiro. The heat signature was unmistakable: one heartbeat that could level a district.
"I'm going alone?" James asked.
Coulson shook his head. "You'll have four teams—two for tactical arms, and two for technical work. They'll operate under your command. You're now being officially promoted to level Six. Command authority, field discretion, and full Athena relay access. The Director thinks highly of you."
James gave him a flat look before speaking with a tone of sarcasm. "You're giving me command of a small army to babysit the Hulk. I feel so trusted."
Coulson smiled faintly. "That's the spirit. Transport departs in two hours."
James dropped his smile and walked away.
[Two hours later – Joint Base Andrews]
The military transport's cargo hold roared with engine noise. James sat near the ramp, suited in field armor beneath his black S.H.I.E.L.D. jacket. Cortana's presence, seen behind his eyes.
[Telemetry link established. Four squads online. External comm encryption confirmed. Also… congratulations on the promotion, Commander.]
He smirked. "You almost sound proud."
[I am—statistically speaking. You've survived 184 missions without dying. That's impressive, even for you.]
"Let's keep it that way."
The hum deepened as they breached the cloud line. One of the tech specialists glanced up from his tablet. "Sir, Athena's providing orbital cover if needed. No satellites closer than twenty-kilometers without her permission."
"Great, relay a thank you to Athena," James said. 'Last thing we need is Hydra knowing where Banner stays.'
Hours later, Rio de Janeiro came into view, a restless sea of lights rolling against the mountains. The air was dense and warm, filled with forming rain that lingered just beyond the clouds.
At the military strip outside the city, the humidity hit him first. Sweat formed under his collar instantly. Locals stared through the fence, curious but keeping distance.
A man in desert-tinted fatigues approached, hand out. "Agent James Gibson? Carl Jones. I'm your hand-off."
James shook it firmly. "Appreciate the welcome. How's our friend doing?"
Carl gestured toward a cluster of dusty jeeps. "Pretty good, all things considered. Thinks he's invisible. Runs a small clinic in the slums. We leave him alone. Everyone learned that the hard way, after Ross's mess."
"Good on them," James said. "Ever tried talking to him though? Offer him a lab, some trust?"
Carl shook his head. "He doesn't trust anyone wearing a badge. And we don't trust anyone trying to hire him. Private groups have come sniffing—Hydra included. We took care of them, quietly."
James's eyes narrowed. "So he's surrounded, and he doesn't even know it."
"Exactly. He'll make a move if he senses a threat, but right now he's calm. The local government's nervous though. They want him gone—afraid he'll lose control."
[Environmental data consistent with tropical storm buildup. Visibility may drop by 40 percent within the hour, I advise that we should go.]
"Then we move now," James said.
They loaded into a convoy of dark jeeps, two tactical teams leading, the tech vans following. The drive through Rio de Janeiro was a sight to be seen—gleaming towers giving way to alleys of concrete stacked like bones. Graffiti dripped down walls, children played barefoot in runoff water, and stray dogs picked at trash.
Cortana sent a signal to his phone, opening and marking a map, tagging each observation point.
[Camera coverage: twelve percent saturation. Civilians: high density. Recommend establishing perimeter outside a two-block radius.]
"Set up at the market," James ordered through comms. "Keep it low profile. We're not here to cage him—just to observe."
They reached the district after sunset. The power grid flickered intermittently. Music from an unseen radio cut through the hum of insects.
Inside the surveillance van, the air smelled of plastic and heat. Screens glowed with thermal outlines—dozens of bodies moving through a maze of tin roofs. One shape stood apart, steady and rhythmic. The heartbeat didn't change with fear or exhaustion. It was impossibly calm.
"There he is," Carl whispered. "Doctor's still working. Stitching some poor guy's arm."
James leaned closer. Banner looked… ordinary. A quiet man trying to live small in a world too big for him.
[Heart rate: forty-five beats per minute. No gamma surge detected. Stress minimal.]
James exhaled. 'He's just… human.'
[For now, yes. But humanity is volatile. One loud argument and he becomes seismic.]
James smiled slightly. 'You're starting to sound poetic.'
[Learning from the best.]
Thunder rumbled across the horizon. The monitors flickered. A local kid threw a rock at the van, laughing, before darting off into the rain. The field agents flinched.
James didn't. "Easy now guys. He's just a kid. Keep the optics steady. If Banner feels cornered, we'll be scraping what's left of this block off the map."
Minutes stretched. Rain came down hard, hammering the roof. The storm blurred the lenses, turned the screens to static.
"Sir, thermal's down!" one tech called out.
"Switch to sonar imaging," James said. 'Cortana, patch through the feed.'
[Already done. Target stationary. Pulse steady. But there's movement three blocks north—five unknown signatures.]
'Hydra?'
[Unmarked heat signatures. Weapons outline matches their catalog. Probability: 78 percent.]
James's jaw tightened. "So much for a quiet surveillance."
He keyed the comms. "Tactical team One and Two—shadow formation. Proceed with non-lethal engagement. I want eyes on who's brave enough to hunt the Hulk."
The teams moved out, boots splashing over wet pavement. Lightning flashed overhead, illuminating the narrow street. James followed, rain sliding down his collar, pistol holstered, rifle ready but low.
The alley ahead twisted between rusted walls and corrugated metal roofs. Shadows moved—five men, rain-soaked and disciplined. Not locals. Their weapons gleamed matte black with custom suppressors.
Cortana's voice softened in his mind. [They don't know what's about to wake up if they make any noise. You might want to hurry.]
James nodded once, crouched low, and signaled his squad. The first man stepped forward, scanning with a handheld detector. James moved faster—one clean shot to the head, dropping him instantly. Two others turned, but too late. The team flowed around him like water, muzzles kissing rain, precise and cold.
The last man tried to shout. James's hand clamped over his mouth before he could make a sound and shot him.
[All five neutralized. Hydra insignia confirmed on the tactical belt. Small-cell team—probably here to gain some data or lure Banner out.]
"Bag them. No alerts. Burn their gear after."
As the squads cleaned up, James looked back toward the small clinic window, faint light still glowing behind the curtains. Banner's silhouette bent over a patient, oblivious.
The storm eased. The rain became small droplets.
"Cortana," he said quietly, "how's the city look from above?"
[Peaceful. For now. You always end up in places like this—between storms.]
He gave a faint smile. "Guess that's my thing."
Lightning flickered again, painting the clinic in white. For a heartbeat, he thought he saw Banner glance toward the alley, as if sensing something invisible—a ripple in the calm. But the man simply closed the curtain and turned away.
James exhaled. "He knows. He just doesn't care."
[Or he's tired of running.]
"Maybe both."
The convoy withdrew before dawn, leaving behind only wet streets and a few scattered shell casings that would vanish with the morning sun.
James had never been abroad, so it might not be a bad idea to do a little sight seeing while he's here.