Planet Earth, Westchester, New York.
The glow of Bifrost faded, and we found ourselves once again in hospitable Midgard. Well, as hospitable as it can be. However, here and now everything was peaceful and blissful: a clear sky with rare islands of white clouds above, a light refreshing breeze blowing in our faces, a crowd of mutant children running and playing on the sports ground literally three meters away from us... Oh, no, they are no longer running and playing, but, with their mouths wide open, staring at the "Heavenly Boat" filled to the brim with equipment, which appeared in a column of light that fell from the sky a second ago.
"Where are we?" Sarah asked, looking warily at the witnesses.
"A suburb of New York, and also home to one of the largest mutant communities," I glanced at the luggage I'd grabbed from Asgard before mentally sending the Destroyer back to his post in the treasury. "I hope Charles hasn't had time to clutter up his basement, or else things will get pretty nasty."
- ... - Yuriko, who had once again switched on her "strict secretary" mode, did not follow my gaze, instead studying the crowd and the surrounding area. Laura, in contrast to her, glanced at my face, but in an unreadable, appraising way, and Sarah... no one knew what Sarah was thinking, since she was very well-mannered.
- Kids! - Without hesitation, I make a finger-pistol gesture with both hands towards the audience, at the same time drawing attention to myself. - You all know me, and we all understand everything here, so no questions, - catching recognition in their glances, I quickly explained my position. - Jubilee, my dear, - I find one of the most boisterous and fleet-footed among the students, - run to the professor, I need the entrance to the hangar.
"Yes, of course, Mr. Loki," the fifteen-year-old Asian girl in the yellow jacket nodded quickly and hurried to the doors of the mansion.
- Loki? - Cyclops appeared from behind the bushes, obviously keeping an eye on the younger generation in the role of a physical education teacher.
"Scott," I greeted him back.
"What…" the mutant parted his lips, clearly trying to form "a certain thought" into sounds, but he could only vaguely point with his hand at the bottom of the Boat, hovering half a meter above the ground.
- What? I didn't say anything about the fact that instead of normal walkers you are constructing cars on wheels.
"Even I know that walking technology is much more difficult to develop and manufacture than wheeled technology," Summers objected, having more or less pulled himself together.
- But you can always put an OYaSh in it and be sure that the world will be saved... even at the cost of destroying a couple of Japanese megacities, - I corrected myself with a bit of feigned awkwardness, - but, hey! - I quickly correct myself. - Only the Americans love to destroy their cities more than the Japanese! Nowhere else have so many projects on this topic been presented to the general public! You even agitate children for this idea, dragging them to the cinema for every destruction of New York.
- Okay, that's it, - Cyclops waved his hands. - I was wrong - I don't want to know what you're talking about or what's going on! Just... just get this thing off the street before it's spotted by some satellite!
- Don't be afraid - they won't notice, I've already covered everything with an illusion.
Then other inhabitants of the estate began to appear. First, Jean appeared from the other end of the sports ground, a couple of seconds after her, Charles came out of the house accompanied by Jubilee, and the last one to jump out of the door was Storm. And yes, Charles was moving on his own two feet, leaning just a little on an elegant cane with a metal knob, not so much out of weakness, as it seemed to me, but because the habit of moving his legs correctly had not yet fully returned.
- Welcome back, Loki, - having reached us, the telepath smiled affably, already on the way with a glance indicating to the elders to take care of the children, or rather, their prompt relocation somewhere out of harm's way, as a result of which the first students of the school were already fussing, trying to push aside the curious teenagers who were not too pleased with this. - I see you brought guests? - now he looked at my companions.
- Yes, meet her, - I turn half-way to the women and the child. - Sarah Kinney is a geneticist and biologist, due to circumstances she was forced to work for the bad guys, but then the heroic me appeared and heroically saved her. This miracle is her daughter and part-time result of an experiment to create a super soldier-assassin. Mental stability is off the charts, but socialization is zero. And she also cuts sausage amazingly!
"Sausage?" Xavier didn't quite understand my train of thought.
– (-__-)… – the girl silently made a "shurkh" with her adamantium claws. And I wasn't kidding – she really did cut sausage with them several times during our trip, which resulted in a couple of chopped boards, after which Sarah was finally able to explain to her that for such purposes one should use kitchen knives, and not weapons that easily cut steel.
"I see," Charles looked at her with a new expression.
- And last but not least, Yuriko, - I introduced the regenerator. - She also went through a similar story.
"Welcome to the school for gifted children, my name is Charles Xavier, make yourself at home," the telepath greeted the guests, nodding respectfully.
"Thank you," the geneticist answered, hesitating a bit. Yuriko limited herself to tilting her head, and Laura continued to simply examine and observe everyone.
- Well, since the formalities are over, let's get my Asgardian trophies into the hangar. I grabbed a lot of stuff, and it shouldn't be standing in the open.
"Of course," Charles agreed.
It was not possible to finish the task quickly - while they raised the basketball court, while they ground the Boat to the plane, while they closed everything back, a good half hour passed. And all this time, dozens of curious noses were watching us from the school windows, and neither I nor Charles did anything about them. How Xavier explained it to himself - I have no idea, but from my point of view, hiding the presence of "underground activities" in the mansion from the students was doomed to failure. There were too few teachers for constant control, too small a living area, in the sense that everything happens in one building, without left-wing buildings on the outskirts, and finally, the local kids have too many interesting abilities, from controlling electronic devices to passing through walls and teleporting over short distances. Only either total telepathic control or normal explanations of the importance of maintaining secrecy and the danger of poking around where you are not wanted could help here. And knowing Charles, he definitely did not use the first option.
- Well, the most urgent stuff is done, I'll unload it later, - I jump off the boat onto the hangar floor. - Now about the rest, - I look questioningly at the mutants. Well, or rather, at Xavier.
"I hope you haven't accidentally started a war or taken over the world somewhere?" the professor tried to joke, smiling softly.
- Well-l-l... - I pretended to be ashamed.
"Oh," the telepath sighed, touching his forehead with the fingers of his free hand.
"It's not all that bad," I reassure him. "Jotunheim's ambitions will now be directed away from normal worlds and will backfire on other freaks who love to capture peaceful planets and conquer civilizations. My stupid older brother is back in Asgard and has even gotten a little smarter… well, I'd like to believe. Odin, unfortunately, hasn't woken up yet, but Gungnir, as it turns out, has a sense of humor, and he understands my jokes," I twirl my cane between my fingers, demonstrating where this very Gungnir is now. "In general, minus the fact that in a year I'll have to lead an army of bloodthirsty monsters into battle, each of which is capable of killing an earthly rifle division without reinforcements, everything ended up pretty well, although it's a shame about the ruined trip.
"It remains to be seen how your companions are involved in all this," Xavier once again proved that he doesn't have the habit of poking around in other people's heads unless absolutely necessary.
- Nothing. I was just driving them here when all this fuss started, - I shrug. - After that incident with Eric, I walked around the Pentagon a little, found a whole mountain of first-class stinking piles, among which were a couple of projects on the use of mutants. In one of them, there were threads to adamantium from the claws of our friend Logan. After that, William Stryker retired, leaving Yuriko in my care, and I visited a couple of secret bunkers, from one of which I took a bucket of adamantium, from another - Laura and Dr. Kinney. Then, according to the plan, there was a leisurely tourist trip across the entire country to calm my nerves, but then my mother found me, and it all began.
"Should I return Mjolnir already?" the telepath nodded understandingly at my words, moving on to the next important topic.
"No," I even recoiled a little "under the impression." "Thor, of course, showed flashes of reason, but a relapse is still very possible. Besides…" I wince slightly, switching to a serious tone, "I simply have no right to cancel Odin's decree to deprive him of his powers. I've already walked along the edge to bring him back from exile, and it's still unknown how the Allfather will react to this when he wakes up. Besides, it will be useful for Thor to know what it's like to rule the Kingdom without the opportunity to personally defeat all the enemies, otherwise he's already begun to forget how ordinary Aesir feel, not to mention mere mortals, who Asgard stands to protect. In general, everything is fine, everything is wonderful, nothing needs to be changed! And I'll get a cookie… yes! I'll get a cookie!" and I abruptly tore off, striding towards the corridor, from where you can go out to the elevator and get to the kitchen.
"Hey!" Scott's indignant voice came from behind him, the others were more polite.
- What? - I hold my horses. - I just came from Asgard, and there are no cookies, not even cocoa! It's been so long since I've eaten pe... Wait a minute... - a sudden thought interrupted my inspired speech. - Did I even eat anything during my stay in Asgard? - the question was difficult - I didn't remember the answer. - Battle hamster, you were watching me, you should know! - I turn to the girl for help.
– (o_O)? (>)… (--)! – followed a complex pantomime.
- Exactly, everything is very bad, - I was inspired. - In general, - I return my gaze to the team, - I'm going to the kitchen to cook, and you're here on your own. Chat, get acquainted, and I have a matter of national importance!
And I ran away, having already managed to hear Scott's question in the corridor:
- Can't he create copies of himself to communicate over a distance?
"He just ran away," Jean's smiling voice responded. "Men do that sometimes."
- I don't do that!
- Really?
- Yes!
Even the ace's hearing couldn't pick up anything further, and I had almost reached the elevator. On the other side, that is, on the first floor of the mansion, a hunting party of young ninjas was already waiting for me, which included Iceman, Rogue, Pyro, Jubilee, Kitty Pryde and Petya Rasputin. The latter was desperately trying to portray the voice of common sense in this kindergarten, in other words, persuading people not to mess around and get out of here before it hit them, like the curious Varvara at the market. However, the "ambush regiment" of brave American kids, having united their ranks, valiantly fought off the vile "infidel" and his "insidious promises", defending their right to seek adventure on their butt. It looked very funny from the outside, but touching. Nevertheless, I really wanted to eat, and so, without removing the illusion of my own absence from the corridor, I headed to the kitchen, leaving the children to be torn apart by the other teachers.
In the kitchen, cleanliness and order awaited me, three bags of frozen French fries, two packs of chocolate chip cookies and a can of cocoa. Soon the frying pan was merrily sizzling with oil, the mug in my hands was exuding a sweet aroma, and life was actively getting better. However, it became even better a couple of dozen minutes later, when one beautiful person decided to appear in my modest abode of gluttony.
"Am I disturbing you?" Ororo asked, peering through the door.
- What kind of question is that? Your presence can't bother me, - I smiled, finishing putting fried potatoes on the plate. - Will you have some? - pointing with a spatula at the dishes, I make it clear what exactly I'm offering her.
"Maybe a little later," she smiled uncertainly in response, walking into the room.
"So, much as I would like to think that your visit is connected with admiration for one humble God, to my deep regret, this is hardly really the case, and therefore I am forced to ask, has something happened?"
"No," she shook her head, walking closer to the table, "I'm really glad to see you, and besides, you were right about the other thing."
- Hm? - I raise an eyebrow.
"The professor really has become like a father to me," Storm pursed her lips slightly, glancing at the salt shaker on the table by the stove. "And the fact that he's not disabled anymore… thank you, Loki."
- You are always welcome, although don't think too well of me - I did it, combining a good deed with selfish interest.
"I know," the mulatto beauty with the appearance of twenty-five-year-old Halle Berry even twitched her lips in a new smile, somewhat patronizingly. "But that doesn't stop me from being grateful. And… about that conversation we had in the restaurant…"
- Mmm?
"I thought…" Storm came closer, "and… you know… No, that's not it…" the girl rolled her eyes, choosing her words. "You really are serious about all this… but… I'm mortal," she caught my gaze and removed any hint of amusement from her voice. "In ten or fifteen years my beauty will fade, and in thirty I'll be an old woman, and you'll still be the same… Are you sure you want this?"
- My lady, - I hugged the girl and, to my joy, did not get punched in the face or even just any kind of rejection, - I have to admit that I am a womanizer, a jester and a rake, but I have never backed down from my decisions. And I am ready to repeat it again. I like you, but everything will be exactly as you want. As for the rest of the problems... they are quite solvable.
"Okay," she closed her eyes, "just… don't hurt me."
"Never," I answered with feeling and pulled her closer. She did not object and moved towards me herself. Our first "serious" kiss was tender and tart. I really wanted to go further, to let go of my hands, but I, showing heroic will, held back, continuing to hug the beauty around the waist and enjoying the taste of her lips and the agility of her tongue, which was forced to enter into a struggle with mine.
Things didn't go any further, and the dinner was getting cold, so, having convinced Storm to join me, I moved us to the table. We just sat and talked, shared a little personal stories and feelings, sometimes stopping to refresh the memory of the taste of each other's lips. It was surprisingly good and pleasant. Even the kids, who also have planned meals, didn't spoil the impressions. And why should they spoil them? We didn't do anything reprehensible, and absolutely everyone in this estate who had reached the age of understanding this term knew that I was "courting" Ororo. In fact, only one question worried me: how would Storm react to Yuriko's position? Of course, I had nothing with the Asian girl, but her appearance and intentions regarding becoming my henchman led to certain thoughts. They could not help but lead. But I had to find out the answer to this question in practice, because I certainly wasn't going to be the first to announce it, explaining all the nuances. Because Loki is a smart boy. Loki is not his own enemy…
Same place, evening.
The day was productive and mutually satisfying for the guests and residents of the estate. Sarah had a private conversation with Charles, and later, under the watchful guidance of Jean Grey, walked around the school, and it is quite possible that the position of biology teacher will be hers after all. Yuriko also had no problems, and was received quite warmly, settling in a separate room next to mine. As I understood, the X-Men were satisfied with the girl's status as my assistant, and nothing more was discussed for now, and no one was up to it. The reason for this fact was Laura, that is, the "battle hamster". No matter how I fooled myself, but the fact that the girl needed the help of a psychologist, if not a psychiatrist, was obvious to any individual with intelligence higher than a stool. That is, in S.H.I.E.L.D. they would not have guessed, but let's not talk about the wretched. She was more than adequate, but she had real problems with live communication, and not only in relation to me. Monosyllabic questions, monosyllabic answers, constant addition of "sir" or "ma'am" - purely on reflexes, without any desire to show politeness or even understanding what the concept of "politeness" is. She was simply never taught to communicate differently and was not allowed to deviate from the statutory framework. Even with her own mother, X-23 sometimes had misfires, when "Miss Kinney", "Dr. Kinney" or "ma'am" came out on reflexes. Sarah talked to her about this and explained a lot - I saw it myself during my trip to New Mexico, although I was not at all eager to eavesdrop - but it is very difficult to suppress a habit of almost a decade in two weeks. In general, compassionate mutants who found themselves in caring for children simply could not pass by and concentrated entirely not on the "adult and independent" Yuriko, but on the "small and defenseless" Laura. It seems that she was not even placed with her peers, but in a dead-end with the rooms of Rogue and Kitty Pryde, as "adults" and "responsible" who would be able to help the girl figure something out themselves, without distracting the teachers, and at the same time would not commit stupidities that younger mutants are capable of. I did not specify why they did not place her with her mother, but perhaps there was some pedagogical subtext here.
I spent the evening and part of the night unloading my own stuff and moving it to the lab. What kind of God of Magic am I without a normal molecular splitter with a scattering mode, an atomic forge, and a Soul Furnace? I would have liked to assemble everything at once, but I decided not to rush. This whole adventure required a legitimate rest, which, the Universe sees, I deserved. So it was decided to assemble and launch everything tomorrow, and today, for once, get some sleep.
And so I undressed in a civilized manner, took a shower, climbed into a clean bed and pressed my cheek against the pillow, allowing Gungnir in the form of a cane to glitter majestically by the bedside table (I'm not kidding! This is exactly what he had planned for the night. Well, as far as the feelings and intentions of the spear can be applied to the terms I am accustomed to...), when suddenly an original thought came to my mind. I mean, it came in response to the mechanical scrolling of plans for the future in my head, but it was no less sudden for that. For when I thought about how I would search for Kamar-Taj, I realized that...
"I'm an idiot!" The statement of fact that abruptly broke the silence of the room was so painful and shocking that sleep flew out of the body ahead of its own squeal. "I forgot to use the Throne to find Kamar-Taj!"
The realization that I had in my hands the most perfect tool for studying worlds and finding needles in haystacks, and I, like the last sheep, did not even think to apply it to what I needed, hit my self-esteem oh so hard...
- Okay, sleep is cancelled! - the blanket flew to the side, and the feet touched the floor. - Let's get up and raid Asgard at the tempo of a waltz! Otherwise, Odin will wake up...
With this thought in mind, I got ready in record time and, furtively hiding behind illusions, hurried out into the street. I needed the point where the Rainbow Bridge had recently transferred us - it is much easier to target a point that has already been used, because the beam of movement itself leaves a runic mark on the ground. Of course, I could have used the Paths of Shadows, but there were no entrances nearby, and I felt sorry for the time. Looking eccentric and stupid in front of Heimdall was no stranger to me lately...
Having reached the right place, I covered it with illusions from all possible views, transformed the earthly clothes back into Asgardian ones, and the cane into a golden spear, after which I took a deep breath and sharply hit the ground with the heel of Gungnir, sending Bifrost the call of the King, bypassing the Guardian's authority.
A rainbow-colored beam of light struck from the sky at that very moment, and I was jerked upward, carried along an interdimensional tunnel. A few seconds of rapid flight - and the soles of my boots find themselves on the floor slabs, and a stream of air caught with it hits my back.
"Loki?" the Bridge Guardian greeted me with a puzzled look, relaxing his fingers on the hilt of his sword.
"Heimdall," I returned the greeting, noting that next to the black ace there was an open keg and a cup with a suspiciously familiar liquid… "I haven't even had time to leave Asgard for a day, and you're already drinking on duty… Where is this universe heading?" I shake my head, heading for the exit.
"This is... a misunderstanding," the big guy squeezed out, trying to keep his face straight.
"Yes, yes, of course... Let's... Let's just pretend that we didn't see each other," I walk past without stopping massaging the bridge of my nose, not wanting to turn around.
"…" the gatekeeper of Asgard remained silent, and it was truly wise of him.
Alas, that was not the end of the night's surprises. I reached the palace calmly - the Golden City was asleep, the einherjar were vigilantly serving at their posts, silence and grace reigned everywhere. However, just when I thought for a second that everything would pass without any new surprises, an unexpected element was discovered in the throne room. Thor, for some reason, decided to have a get-together on the Throne at night and did it with such a smart and focused look that I was even afraid that during my absence they had made a stuffed animal out of him. I don't know how this association came to my mind. I just don't know! But that's what I thought of when I saw him.
- Loki? What are you doing here? - the Thunderer also noticed me.
"I dropped in for a couple of minutes to check something," I gesture to the einherjars on duty in the hall, "but what are you doing in the throne room at three in the morning?"
"I… uh…" After watching the Aesir quickly and silently leave the room, Odin's eldest son collected his thoughts. "I'm learning… I'm studying the advice you left behind."
- Studying? That's good, - I nodded, even a little impressed. - But let me interrupt you for a minute - I need to use the Throne.
"Of course, brother, as you say," the blond immediately stood up, giving way.
Well... Seeing such compliance and remembering what Thor was like six months ago, the experience of the real Loki begins to creep towards demonstrating the blue screen of death. A very strange feeling. I even feel like asking unobtrusively, like, brother, are you a time traveler? However, even if you are, I don't want to know about it. Seriously - I don't care. It doesn't concern me.
"So," I sit down on the Throne and concentrate on Midgard, allowing the artifact of the Kings to expand and direct my "inner eye."
Well, well, well… Tibet, there you are… We are looking for magic. Oh! Here it is – the concealing veil! Powerful, long-lasting, erected at least a thousand years ago. And the spectrum of charms characteristic of using the energy of the quantum dimension in a mixture with the inner strength of people. Yes, I have definitely found it! Well, now let's look at New York – the local temple should also have a similar background, and knowing where it is will not be useless for me…
"Okay, I'm done," I open my eyes a few minutes after I started working. "Thank you, Thor, I'm off," I get to my feet.
"Where are you going?" the big guy perked up.
- It's all plot movement! - I wave my hands expressively, already striding quickly towards the exit. - It's happening right now! Too many events, too many! Kiss mom, say hello to Padma and feed dad's crows - I completely forgot about it, they're probably angry now... - and, leaving my brother completely bewildered, I ran away shockingly. All in the name of Intrigue, yes!
***
"Can't sleep?" I greeted Yuriko, who had come into the kitchen to catch me solemnly pouring myself a glass of freshly brewed cocoa. The abode of the magicians had been found, and it was worth celebrating. Well, since there was nothing left of the night, dragging myself back to bed was considered futile.
"I wanted to make breakfast," the Asian woman answered with a slight hesitation, clearly not expecting to see me here.
"That's a good thing," I nodded, already taking out the second glass. I had brewed a lot, so I could share. "However, as far as I know, usually the students themselves prepare breakfast here under Jean's supervision. They'll wake up in just a couple of hours."
"I didn't know," the girl confessed, keeping a stone face and looking away just a little.
"Eh," I fill her glass and put it on the table, closer to Yuriko. "This won't do," I state, catching her gaze. "Let's be serious – you're depressed because you don't understand your place in life, right?"
"I understand him," the girl shook her head, but despite her even tone and control of her face, her words sounded unconvincing to me.
"Sit down," I set an example, sitting down at the dining table with a cup in my hands, "we'll have some soul-saving conversations."
- You don't have to...
"I have to," I interrupt her, "otherwise you'll continue to be restless and worry about trifles."
Under my demanding gaze, the woman gathered her will into a fist (that's how it looked) and sat down on a stool at the opposite end of the table. Well, what a picture: "a decent subordinate in front of a brainless, tyrant boss" in colors. As if the feeling of shame was exactly what I lacked...
- Let's start with something simple. Who do you think I am?
"You are God," Oyama answered without a pause, like an exemplary excellent student or a highly professional secretary.
"The definition is correct, but not sufficient," I encourage her to continue the dialogue, taking a sip of the hot drink.
"You…" the girl hesitated a little, "are the son of Odin… the King of Asgard and Jotunheim… the Lord of Magic…"
- You're definitely taking this the wrong way, - I shake my head. - You're listing words that describe my status and reputation, but not me. Try to formulate what you've noticed yourself during our acquaintance, what I am like.
– … – the beautiful Asian woman thought for a while, by all indications – taking the task seriously. – You like to shock the public, joke, have fun, play with children, eat sweets and show off your frivolity.
- It's getting closer, but you're listing external attributes, not the conclusions that follow from them, - I nod, taking another sip. - But I won't torture you. I'm a scoundrel, a womanizer and a rake. This is exactly what you should keep in mind when you try to understand how to behave with me and how to help me. Don't think that I'm God or some kind of illustrious Hero. Look at me as an overgrown blockhead - and you'll immediately feel better.
"I'm afraid I won't be able to do it," Yuriko shook her head, looking me seriously in the eyes. "I understand too well that your frivolity is a mask, but in reality you control everything and calculate several steps ahead."
- This is, of course, very flattering, - I smile at the girl, - but you are mistaken. My eccentricities are not a mask. This is how I feel - my real reactions and emotions. And I do not calculate everything in advance. It is simply not necessary to be sedate and stern to notice what is happening around and react to it in time.
"Even if you say so," the woman shook her head, "I've seen you in action. I've seen Asgard. And I can't perceive you as a simple… work friend."
- Well, at least you understand what I want, - I shrug, taking another sip, - and you're not afraid to tell me. But, okay, let's try to act gradually. You can't get used to me because you can't perceive me as an ordinary person or a mutant, this makes you nervous, keeps you tense and can't put two words together to address me. Did I forget anything?
- ... - a bashful blush appeared under the Asian's high cheekbones, but she tried to quickly pull herself together: - Yes. That's right.
- Great! Then just be there. Make tea, coffee, bring sandwiches, remind me about the schedule if I get too busy, in general, try to be a simple secretary, and then you'll gradually get used to it.
"Okay, I'll try," Yuriko nodded extremely seriously, perhaps even folding her palms on her knees under the table, as befits a decent girl in class.
- Oh, my grief, - I shake my head, and she clearly understood why I was doing this, she even got a little embarrassed, but still didn't change her pose. - Drink your cocoa already! A faithful servant of an evil genius must respect the whims of her boss! We, evil geniuses, are vulnerable and tender creatures, we need moral support, otherwise we'll fall apart, just know that.
"Yes, sir," the girl took the cup, taking a disciplined sip, not showing in any way how she felt about the rest of the speech.
"You're on the right track," I said, smiling and saluting with my own cup.
In all fairness, Yuriko should also have been given to the Professor for a professional examination, since her mania for service was not going to diminish, which was obvious to me, but... to be honest, I was not against it. The main thing was that her obsession would not turn out to be bad for the girl herself, but I would try to prevent that.
Around this time...
"They're going around us on the third deck, sir!" Agent Coulson reported to the Director of S.H.I.E.L.D., having shot the enemy who was about to follow them in the head. Or the former Director... for lack of an organization itself.
"Help is close, we need to hold out for another three minutes," Fury almost growled, taking aim at the corridor leading to the third deck indicated by one of his last loyal subordinates.
There was a slight lull in the heat of the battle, and Nick wondered how it had all come to this?
That day, nothing foreshadowed trouble, except for the fact that the internal investigation had reached a dead end. The checks failed to reveal any "Russian agents", and the very fact that everyone who had any connection to their organization was put through a polygraph, where they were sometimes asked not the most pleasant questions, caused dull irritation among the agents. Everything changed when Coulson burst into his office with a report. More precisely, with a short story about a strange brunette with an arrogant face. And the Hydra agents who were allegedly embedded in S.H.I.E.L.D. All this looked like an outright provocation, but when it comes to these Nazi protégés, you can't, you can't ignore even the shadow of suspicion. And Nick gave the order to initiate a second check with a number of completely different questions. But he didn't have time to start it.
The task force, which, on Coulson's orders, was immediately disarmed upon arrival, put in the brig and forbidden to communicate with anyone... actually had Hydra agents in them, who realized that their exposure would only be a matter of time, and...
- Hail Hydra! - the "just a technician" who flew out at them with a grenade in his hand, racked his brains on the nearest wall.
If Nick had reacted half a second later, the explosion that tore apart the corpse with the bullet through the head could have killed them too.
Those agents managed to give the signal while they were being led to the cells. The reaction was immediate... No, they weren't caught, it was just... it was just that more than half of "his" men yelled "Heil!" in response and attacked their unsuspecting comrades. Some managed to fight back, but there were only a few of them - the surprise of the attack had an effect, and if it weren't for the fact that the Hydra agents clearly weren't planning to start active operations right now, it's quite possible that the takeover would have already been completed. And even now... if they don't get help, it will all be over, they'll just flounder a little longer and take a few more enemies with them.
But help did come. With the screeching sound of torn metal, a man in a high-tech spacesuit-armor flew into the room located between the decks.
- Stark!
"I see you're really screwed if you're so happy to see me," the eccentric billionaire replied as he landed. "Now let's drop the pleasantries and you'll tell me the reason why I had to abandon my own wedding preparations and rush here."
"Hydra… they captured S.H.I.E.L.D., and…" the next words were hard to come by, but after speaking for just a second with his eye closed, Nick managed to force himself to do so: "I need your help."
"I heard that before, when you begged me to save your ass," this insufferable… clown waved it off. "But be kind enough to explain why I would suddenly get involved in all this shit and give you my resources and powers to successfully purge the ranks after everything you did to awaken 'deep sympathy' in me?" the armored billionaire did not hesitate to duplicate the irony in his voice by making the "quotation marks" gesture with both hands.
"Stark, these aren't toys or your 'business negotiations'!" Fury growled. "This is Hydra, the very organization your father gave his life to fight!"
- Something tells me, - Tony raised his hand, and a small ball flew off it, flying around the corner along a strange trajectory. Reflections ran along the walls, as if from a lightning strike, and the sound of a high-voltage discharge reached his ears, as well as the noise of bodies falling and something clearly iron and heavy, - that these guys are not SS veterans at all, but quite real US citizens from good families and with an ideal tax history. And all you have to show them is that you work for a shady office with a pretentious name and claims to more power and more money. When are you planning on cleaning out the Pentagon, CIA and FBI employees? After lunch or in the evening?
"They're killing my people right now!" Nick barked, driven to fury.
- You won't believe it, but I myself barely contained myself a couple of times, - Stark didn't even think of getting embarrassed. - So far I see that American citizens are being shot at by other American citizens, and all of them are active employees of one American intelligence agency on duty. And even if we take your words on faith that this is some new Hydra, then how is it different from your S.H.I.E.L.D., you still haven't explained, but you want me, as a private individual, to get involved in this using weapons!
- And you're just going to let them do what they're doing? - the director of that very special service didn't believe it. - You're going to let them destroy your father's case?
- "My father's case" is the only reason why I ended up here, and didn't send you right away, "the keeper of the legacy", whose "services" are estimated by the laws of normal people in the range of seven to twelve years of general regime. Besides, according to your own words, which you told me quite recently, I "have nothing to do" with S.H.I.E.L.D. and "its" developments, which Howard Stark "transferred" to you, though without witnesses and other formalities. By the way, I wanted to ask, you were planning for me to "transfer" the Iron Man technology to you as well, right? Hmm... listen, if you think about it, I'm starting to have a strange desire to help these feldgrau fans.
"What do you want?" Fury had neither the time nor the desire to bargain with the eccentric billionaire.
- Fifty-one percent of your firm's shares...
"SHIELD is not a joint-stock company," the colonel gritted his teeth at the latest mockery.
- Yes, I agree, you still have a long way to go to reach his standards. Okay, I see you have a weak sense of humor, so I'll explain it more simply. You guys screwed up with your spy games. You can't even be responsible for your own employees. And since it so happened that I have already "privatized peace in the whole world" and am generally America's main defender, now I will "privatize" you too. You will supply me with information, report on operations, and so on, as a normal corporation should do in relation to the heir of the co-founder.
"You want to get a tame international intelligence service?" Nick couldn't believe his ears.
- Guys, you think too highly of yourselves. And judging by what Jarvis has already caught by connecting to your communication channels, you are international terrorists who consider yourself a secret service. If you really were, you would have gotten me out of captivity and you would have tied up Obadiah, and not waited for me to do everything! Actually, if it weren't for the memory of my father, I would have already flown away and built my own S.H.I.E.L.D. with blackjack and... oh, no, I can forget about the second point, - the billionaire sighed sadly. - So, do you agree to my extremely profitable offer or can I fly back and continue choosing a wedding cake?
"I agree," Fury responded gloomily.
- Well, that's good... and yes, I hope it won't occur to you to try to change our agreements, otherwise I might get offended... and look for a new director of my organization, - Nick could only grit his teeth. He was left with no choice, and he would have to play by Stark's rules. At least for now.