{Chapter: 45 - The Vanishing Physicist}
"Dda!… Dda!… Dda!…"
The rhythmic thud of fists pounding against a sandbag echoed through the training room of the mobile SHIELD base. Daisy Johnson's gloved fists struck with increasing speed and intensity, her body moving like an amateur locked in battle with the heavy target. Beads of sweat trickled down her forehead, glistening beneath the overhead lights, and her black workout vest clung tightly to her torso, outlining the defined muscles she'd built through training.
Her breath came in short gasps.
Suddenly, a familiar voice cut through the hum of the air circulation.
"Babe, what are you doing?"
Aiden's voice was warm and laced with amusement as he stepped into the training room. He watched her movements with a soft smile, one hand casually in his jacket pocket, the other holding a bottle of water. She looked over her shoulder and grinned, not missing a beat as she slammed another strong punch into the sandbag.
"My boyfriend works for SHIELD and fights monsters for a living. I can't just sit back and be the damsel in distress, now can I?" she teased, throwing in a quick jab-jab-cross combo for emphasis.
Aiden chuckled and walked over to hold the sandbag steady for her. His strength made the previously swaying bag freeze in place like it weighed nothing.
"If you're serious about improving," he said, locking eyes with her, "you should ask Agent May to train you. She's one of the best hand-to-hand combat instructors in SHIELD. Practicing alone is great, but in the field, it's experience and reflexes that save your life."
Daisy hesitated for a moment, genuinely considering his words. She knew Aiden wasn't one to throw compliments or suggestions lightly.
"May, huh? I've seen how she fights… like she was born in a war," Daisy mused. "You think she'd agree to train me?"
Aiden gave her a knowing look. "She respects people who work hard. If you show her you're committed, she'll train you. And you won't regret it."
Before Daisy could reply, a loud beep-beep blared from the overhead speakers, cutting through the room.
"All personnel report to the conference hall immediately," an automated voice announced.
Aiden and Daisy exchanged a quick look, and without a word, she ripped off her gloves, wiped her face with a towel, and the two of them made their way to the heart of the aircraft.
---
The conference hall buzzed with quiet conversation as the SHIELD team gathered. The room was equipped with high-tech monitors, tactical maps, and a central holographic display that flickered to life as Director Phil Coulson entered.
He walked to the front with his usual calm but serious demeanor, holding a sleek black tablet.
"Thirty minutes ago, a SHIELD transport vehicle was ambushed on Route 76, just outside Stirling," he announced. "The transport was carrying a red-priority asset."
Daisy blinked and leaned toward Aiden. "Red-priority?"
He shrugged subtly. Even he didn't have all the answers sometimes.
Coulson continued, "The asset in question is Dr. Franklin Hall, a Canadian physicist who was under SHIELD protection due to the sensitivity of his research. He was being relocated along with his research data when the ambush occurred."
As Coulson swiped on his tablet, a large image of Dr. Hall appeared on the central monitor—an older man with wire-rimmed glasses, a thoughtful gaze, and a slightly disheveled look that screamed 'absent-minded genius.'
Simultaneously, Jemma Simmons and Leo Fitz gasped and looked at each other.
"Dr. Hall?!" Jemma exclaimed, clearly shaken. "He was our advisor during the second year of SHIELD Academy. He taught us chemical kinetics…"
"He was a brilliant scientist. Kind, focused… passionate about pushing the boundaries of what science can do," Fitz added, visibly distraught.
"He didn't care about politics or security clearance. He only cared about knowledge," Jemma said softly. "Director, we're going to save him, right?"
Coulson looked at them with a trace of sympathy. "We're going to do everything we can. He was one of ours."
"What about the attacker?" Aiden asked, his tone sharp. There was something dangerous in the way he said it, as though he was already preparing himself to meet the enemy face-to-face.
Coulson looked up from his tablet. "Reports suggest the attacker was… invisible."
There was a moment of stunned silence.
"Invisible?" Daisy echoed, frowning. "How's that even possible?"
"Tech-based cloaking, perhaps. Or something else entirely," Coulson said. "We won't know until we get there."
Within minutes, the plane descended and landed near the location of the incident—then they drove cars to reach the location.
Daisy, sitting next to Aiden and Coulson, looked around the place. "This feels… wrong. Like they were being hunted."
"Is Dr. Hall really an 'asset'?" she asked, still unsure of SHIELD's colder vocabulary.
"He's more than that," Coulson said, his voice tinged with respect. "SHIELD protects scientists like him. Men and women whose research could change the world—for better or worse. We hide them, move them constantly, make sure they're not kidnapped or coerced. It's a dangerous life, but necessary."
"He was our mentor," Jemma added, stepping beside them. "He opened our eyes to what science could be. To lose him to something like this…"
Fitz, still scanning for tech signatures with his handheld device, said quietly, "I don't think they just wanted to kill him. I think they took him. And that's worse."
Daisy glanced back at Coulson. "What exactly does 'red-priority' mean?"
"It means," Coulson said grimly, "if Dr. Hall's research falls into the wrong hands, the consequences could be catastrophic. It's not just about saving one man. It's about preventing a global disaster."
"It also means the security system should be very foolproof—" Phil Coulson's voice cut off abruptly, his eyes narrowing at the scene outside the aircraft's reinforced windows. "—Stop the car."
The driver barely had time to respond before the brakes were pushed. Coulson unbuckled his seat belt and marched toward the incident site, the rest of the team trailing close behind him.
Outside, sunlight filtered down through the pine trees, dappling a surreal scene in flickering patterns of gold and green. A SHIELD transport SUV, one of their state-of-the-art armored vehicles, was hanging like a child's forgotten toy—impaled high on the branches of a twisted old tree. Its front end was mangled, its side panels torn open like paper.
Everyone stared in stunned silence.
"This… this was a red priority transport?" Fitz asked, flabbergasted.
"Looks more like a red priority embarrassment," muttered Aiden, folding his arms.
Phil's jaw clenched, but he didn't respond. Instead, he turned to one of the field agents nearby—a man in a bloodied uniform, clutching his side where his vest had clearly absorbed most of an impact.
"What happened here?" Phil asked, his voice calm but firm.
The injured agent, shaken and still pale, tried to compose himself. "We… we were driving down Route 76 as planned. Two SUVs. We stuck to the route, no stops, no contact with locals. We ran a comms sweep before we departed—clean."
"And the attack?" Phil asked.
The agent looked around nervously. "It came out of nowhere. Literally. We didn't see anyone. Just… a massive force hit us from the left side. Like we got sucker punched by a phantom. I was out before I even knew we were under assault."
"There was no warning?" Daisy asked, glancing uneasily at the wreck.
The agent shook his head. "Nothing. But they knew. They knew our exact route. The convoy schedule. The number of guards. Even our comms encryption protocols. Someone on the inside gave them everything."
"That's bad," Aiden muttered. "Like, 'burn your files and go dark' bad."
Phil gave a silent nod, digesting the information. "We'll deal with the leak later. Right now, our focus is on recovering Dr. Hall."
Further down the crash site, Jemma Simmons crouched over a patch of disturbed earth. She was wearing a pair of sleek, visor-like diagnostic goggles, the lenses flickering with digital data. In her hand, she held a handheld device humming with soft energy pulses.
"Hey! Over here!" she called.
The others jogged over to her, forming a semi-circle as she gestured to the ground. "Watch this," she said, kneeling. She scooped up a handful of soil, raising it slowly in her palm.
Suddenly, the dirt began to swirl.
Not fall.
Swirl.
The dust particles lifted off her glove in a gentle spiral, rotating upward in a perfectly controlled vortex. There was no wind—no breeze, no mechanical assistance.
"What the hell?" Daisy whispered.
"This scanner—it's picking up residual electrokinetic disturbances. I think…" Jemma hesitated, staring at the now swirling cyclone forming inches from her palm, "I think something was manipulating gravity here. Or, at the very least, distorting the ambient magnetic field."
The wind suddenly picked up, sharp and biting.
"What's going on?" Fitz asked, squinting as the gust turned more violent.
Jemma frowned and checked her readings. "This isn't supposed to happen. The scanner's just meant to track ionized field shifts, but—"
Before she could finish, the dust cyclone exploded in size, expanding with rapid intensity. Leaves and branches ripped free from trees. Pebbles launched into the air like bullets.
"Everyone, get back!" Phil shouted.
Aiden, reacting instinctively, extended both arms forward. A translucent, flickering telekinetic barrier erupted between the team and the swirling chaos. It shimmered like heatwaves over asphalt but held strong.
For the moment.
"I've got it—barely!" Aiden yelled through gritted teeth, beads of sweat forming on his forehead. "But it's getting worse! My hold's not stable yet—I haven't had time to master this!"
"Jemma, shut it down!" Phil barked.
"I'm trying!" she shouted, punching commands into the device. "It's not responding—some feedback loop must have triggered!"
The vortex doubled again, sand and dust lashing against Aiden's barrier. His legs bent under the pressure, his face twisted in strain. The whirring noise grew deafening.
In a split-second decision, Aiden stepped forward and grabbed the device from Jemma's hand. With one swift motion, he slammed it into a nearby rock—shattering it completely.
The whirlwind collapsed.
All at once, the chaos ceased. The air calmed. The soil dropped back to the ground like it had never moved. The silence that followed was almost haunting.
Aiden stood panting, staring at the broken pieces of Jemma's device. "You're welcome," he said, brushing dust from his shirt.
Jemma, visibly distraught over the ruined equipment, was about to snap—until something caught her eye.
On the ground, half-buried in the soil, was a strange object. She knelt and brushed away the dirt, revealing a metallic ring about the size of a coin. Suspended within its center was a small, floating iron sphere—hanging mid-air with no strings or supports.
"What is this?" she murmured, holding it up for everyone to see.
Fitz leaned in, eyes wide with curiosity. "That's not SHIELD tech. At least, not anything I've seen."
Phil took it carefully from her palm and examined it, turning it over with slow precision.
"It's not something simple," he said, his voice low.
"Yeah, of course captain obvious," Aiden muttered. "It's floating. In mid-air. In a ring. Without power, Phil."
Phil didn't respond. His eyes stayed locked on the object.
"Something tells me we've just scratched the surface," he finally said.