"You've been hiding a lot from us, haven't you?"
Dugan snapped at Nick Fury, his grip on the cigar so tight his knuckles whitened.
"I still didn't know I'd be branded a Hydra accomplice."
Nick Fury's voice was calm, measured.
"We need to move fast! Pierce is already making his play. Any trustworthy S.H.I.E.L.D. agents will be purged soon!"
"Who can we trust?"
Dugan's tone was sharp, irritation dripping from every word.
Only now did they realize Nick Fury was on their side.
"Phil Coulson, Melinda May, Natasha, and Hawkeye Barton—at least they're people I trust."
Fury's words were barely out when Rumlow's mocking chuckle cut through.
"Black Widow, the woman who betrayed her own country, has your trust? That's rich."
"She was the one abandoned, not the one who turned her back. And her background makes her the last person Hydra would trust."
Fury defended her with conviction.
Natasha Romanoff, the Black Widow, carried the indelible stain of her red past, never fully trusted by S.H.I.E.L.D. But that same stigma made her an unlikely Hydra recruit, despite her extraordinary skills.
"The Howling Commandos are solid. Blade's still under the radar, unlike the Werewolves, who Hydra's been watching closely."
Dugan chimed in. Assessing their allies wasn't a bad move right now.
"And my friend, Frank Castle."
Fury dropped the Punisher's name without hesitation. Castle had always been under S.H.I.E.L.D.'s surveillance—anyone tied to him was too valuable for Hydra to ignore.
"Anthony Edward 'Tony' Stark, Howard's son, could also lend a hand."
Hill added quietly, unaware that Rumlow and Dugan had already discussed the Stark family.
"And our enemies? The entire S.H.I.E.L.D. organization?"
Steve's voice carried exhaustion.
He'd barely woken up, still grappling with the fact that fifty years had passed, and now he was thrust into a war against his old enemies.
It felt absurd.
He still wanted to visit Peggy Carter, to keep the promise of that dance he owed her.
…
Outside Bul-Kathos's blacksmith shop, Coulson stood with a gun pressed to his temple. Behind him lay the shattered corpses of five agents, their bodies mangled beyond recognition.
The moment they'd turned hostile toward Coulson, they'd caught Bul-Kathos's attention. Their plan to take him out alongside Coulson had backfired spectacularly.
These "cleaning crew" agents, long since replaced by Hydra operatives, had been sent to eliminate Coulson, Fury's trusted subordinate.
The instant they directed killing intent at Bul-Kathos, the five Hydra agents hit the ground—corpses too broken to be called bodies.
Because Bul-Kathos struck first, Coulson instinctively drew his gun, closing in on the three remaining agents. That's when they seized him.
Now, the three survivors held a bewildered Coulson hostage, facing off against Bul-Kathos.
"You'd better let us go, or we'll blow his brains out!"
The agent with the gun jabbed it into Coulson's head, his voice trembling with fear as he shouted at Bul-Kathos.
"Hey, we're on the same side!"
Coulson, still clueless about what was happening, protested. Fury hadn't yet briefed him on Hydra's infiltration.
"Shut up! If it weren't for him, you'd already be dead!"
Another agent, rattled by Bul-Kathos's actions, screamed hysterically.
His gun hand shook uncontrollably.
Faced with something beyond comprehension, even Hydra's agents were losing their nerve. They were still human, after all.
"Who the hell are you people?"
Coulson pieced together from their words that he was their target. He was dying to know who they were.
And Bul-Kathos's actions were clearly to save him.
"Hail Hydra!"
Another panicked agent roared, firing his gun at Bul-Kathos.
In a blur too fast to track, Bul-Kathos raised his hand and clenched his fist. Not a mark marred his body.
He hadn't caught the bullet with speed—he'd used his palm as a shield, stopping the shot cold and crushing the deformed slug in his grip.
When the bullet proved useless against Bul-Kathos, the trembling agent swung his gun back to Coulson's head.
He realized attacking Bul-Kathos was futile. Their only hope of survival now rested on Coulson as a hostage.
"Let us go, or we'll shatter his skull!"
Bul-Kathos watched the scene like it was a farce, his face expressionless.
"You've got him. Why are you threatening me?"
His voice carried genuine confusion. Why were they holding Coulson hostage to bargain with him? Why not threaten Coulson directly?
"You're friends, aren't you? If you don't agree, he's dead!"
The three Hydra agents, momentarily thrown by Bul-Kathos's logic, pressed on with their original plan.
If Bul-Kathos wanted, he could end them in less than a blink, without Coulson losing a hair.
But Coulson's first instinct had been to aim his gun at him, and that left a sour taste.
Bul-Kathos trusted his friends completely, but Coulson's reaction made him question their bond.
He wanted to hear what Coulson would say before deciding his next move.
It was just a farce, after all—nothing he couldn't control.
"Uh, Bul-Kathos, can that gift of yours keep me alive here?"
Coulson, catching the "Hail Hydra" cry, finally understood who these men were.
But he was powerless. If he survived, he'd make damn sure to tell Fury about Hydra's presence in S.H.I.E.L.D.
Too bad Fury had known long before he did.
Bul-Kathos didn't bother answering. He wanted to know what Coulson saw him as.
He'd considered this man a friend worth keeping.
"Let us go, or else!"
The agent holding Coulson fired a shot into his leg. Coulson's body buckled, but they yanked him back up.
Coulson was their lifeline—they didn't dare kill him outright.
But a wound to show their resolve? That was necessary.
(End of Chapter)
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