Valentina Allegra de Fontaine
The fall of SHIELD was a beautiful thing from her point of view. In fact, for the intelligence community, it was the best thing that had happened since the CIA had managed to sneak out the Argo 6 from Iran. Even greater than the reveal that aliens were real, which anybody who was not smooth-brained already knew since the late 1980s. That the aliens wanted to invade and take over the planet, was not that surprising in the first place.
Whenever civilizations clashed, there were always clear winners and losers. The less advanced civilization was always given the rotten end of the stick. Servitude or genocide, sometimes even both. This was a historical lesson that had occurred across humanity's timeline. The discovery of Africa, the discovery of America. It was something that had happened over and over and over again.
Valentina Allegra de Fontaine did not think aliens were so different that it was not bound to repeat itself. Yet she digressed. Seated in her office, or what was to be her office in a few months, the formerly named Avengers Tower was a shell of itself. After Ultron's rampage and the dissolution of the Avengers, Tony Stark had grown weary of the building and the memories it elicited, and had sold it off to her.
The building was still under renovation, but more often than not, Valentina found herself here. In that place that would be her office. The towering structure dwarfed nearly every other high-rise and building in New York City, and it gave her a view. A startlingly clear view of the city, and not just the city, but of the country she had sworn, killed, lied, stolen, blackmailed, and every other vile and cruel deed in the book for.
Valentina was not oblivious. In the eyes of anyone who knew her, she was an amorous and clearly cancerous woman. It was strangely why her relationship with Everett Ross had grown into marriage. The sweet, happy sop had somehow believed he could change her, and Valentina had wanted to believe that was true, but over the years, even Everett had become jaded. As he had grown to know her more than any other person, he was forced to reconcile his fairytale worldview with the truth.
She was a broken woman, and not even his big, kind heart could change that.
The pad at her side vibrated furiously to the incoming tune of an alert, but she ignored it.
She was seated on the table, suit tight against her form, a Glock in its concealed holster resting just beside the pad. Right now, she was not Valentina Allegra de Fontaine, one of the hardest women in the world, the director of one of the oldest and most established intelligence agencies in the world, the CIA.
No, right now, she was simply Valentina Allegra de Fontaine, daughter of the late Nicolas Allegra de Fontaine. The girl who had led her father's killer hand in hand right to her father and was forced to witness it, as the nice-looking man had unloaded a full mag of semi-automatic fire into her father's surprised face.
She had killed that man a few years later, of course, but the damage had been done. That single act had broken her, changed her into something she did not recognize sometimes. She glanced into the reflective surface of the glass windows that were still being installed.
One did not have to look far to spot the result of her heartbreak and subsequent change. The white strand of hair that hung down her face in the midst of black locks. Marie Antoinette syndrome, her doctors called it. The consequence of her naivete, she believed.
The pad continued to ring continuously, and with an annoyed sigh at the interruption of her away time, she picked it up. It was a list of updates, news that had been flagged and sent up to her. Most of it was generic. With the sudden expansion of the world, a feat that most people did not have a response to, things had gotten heated for a bit, especially without the protective net that SHIELD's presence, as well as the Avengers, had previously provided.
Now, world leaders and humanity in general were forced to step up. The CIA was once more the premier intelligence agency in America. Oh, she knew there were fragments of other groups, especially HYDRA and SHIELD.
During the dismissal of SHIELD following the reveal that HYDRA and SHIELD were so intertwined, one could not say where the first started and the second ended. She had been one of the few who had both the connections and power to scramble for both intelligence, discarded agents' power, and artifacts that the disbanded agency had hoarded for decades.
The CIA's budget had gone up as well, to a level that was previously unheard of, and with that, Valentina had seen a way to secure funding for her own goals. O.X.E. A privatized SHIELD in essence. That had been the issue with SHIELD. In truth, its presence was a stabilizing force. She disliked the way the presence of both SHIELD and the Avengers had diminished her capability as the director of the CIA for a long time, but she was not blind to their value.
So she was in the process of creating something bigger, something better, and that was what O.X.E. was going to be. Something that would surpass Nick Fury's brainchild, she thought with a hint of childish spite. Another swipe of the pad brought up more news and updates on the changes in the world.
Where the rest of the world had slowly calmed down and basically forgotten about the changes over the past month, the intelligence world had not, owing to the new discoveries. Whole villages and communities had sprung up overnight. Most of them were focused in Europe, Norway to be specific, but the rest of the world had not been spared completely.
Her white coats and scientists were convinced that their world had been merged with an alternate Earth. There had been a lot of scientific terms used: spatial alignments, harmonic conversion, interstellar convergence, etc. It had taken her shooting the thigh of a particularly loud-mouthed egghead before they had broken things down for people without an IQ north of 170, as well as multiple PhDs and doctorates, to understand.
A Convergence.
That was what they called it. It was over a conference call that had included some of the most premier eggheads in the field, which included Jane Foster, Erik Selvig, as well as Tony Stark. The billionaire with a suit of armor that cost more than some third-world countries was hardly a figurehead on the topic, but one thing that could not be discarded was how frighteningly knowledgeable and insightful the usually lackadaisical man was when he put his mind to it. For God's sake, by the end of the conversation, which had spanned multiple hours, the man was as knowledgeable in the field as someone who had spent two decades, while Valentina had remained as oblivious to most of the terms and terminologies they used as she had begun.
But after it had ended and she was left alone with her own band of CIA-supported eggheads, who she could at least bully into submission or shoot depending on how grumpy she was feeling that day, they had broken things down for her.
Jane Foster was certain that this was a convergence of sorts, a phenomenon that was supposed to happen only every five thousand years. A phenomenon that had already happened a few years ago. She remembered the portals that had torn open in the skies at different places in the world in 2012. The changes that had followed. Many had feared that it was an alien attack once more, like the Chitauri that had attacked New York just a few years prior, and in truth, according to Jane Foster and Erik Selvig, it was, but that truth was hidden and classified, and it was spoon-fed to the world as a natural occurrence.
The woman, a known lover of Thor, posited that that same convergence had happened again, only this time it was not the nine realms or worlds converging into each other. This time, it was nine realms converging into an alternate nine realms, which meant that Earth had been forcibly merged with another Earth.
The theory had been outlandish at first. Most of her resident eggheads had shot it down immediately, citing Pauli's exclusion principle, but after a furious discussion that had led nowhere, it had ended with the capricious Tony Stark ending it as his rumored short-lived attention span kicked in, and he suddenly lost interest and left the call.
Leaving Valentina to send operatives around the world, including Norway, which was believed to be the epicenter of the change. An epicenter that gave more life to Jane Foster's theories, because the convergence was a thing the Asgardians were well linked with. That this new convergence was heavily focused on Norway could hardly be a coincidence.
Another swipe brought her the true priority message that had made her pick the tab up in the first place. It had come in a few minutes ago.
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Damage Control – Incident Report #2017-SD-047
INCIDENT CLASSIFICATION: ENHANCED-HUMAN CONFRONTATION
LOCATION: Madison, South Dakota (Pop. ~6,000)
DATE/TIME: [REDACTED], 14:37 Local Time
RESPONDING AGENCY: Madison County Sheriff's Department (Initial), Damage Control (Secondary)
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INITIAL REPORT SUMMARY:
At approximately 14:37 hours, Madison County Sheriff's Department responded to reports of a possible assault, robbery, and carjacking. Upon deputies' arrival, things had escalated to a meta-human altercation in the town's commercial district:
1. Subject Alpha (Identified: Carl "Crusher" Creel, aka Absorbing Man) – Found unconscious, restrained with improvised bindings, and severe cranial trauma consistent with blunt force impact. Subject was transported to Madison General Hospital under armed guard. Current status: stable but unresponsive. Medical staff report possible traumatic brain injury.
2. Impact Crater – Concrete street cratered to a depth of 0.7 meters, with a diameter of approximately 2.3 meters. Structural analysis indicates impact force consistent with kinetic energy discharge of 15–20 megajoules. Spider-web fracture patterns extend outward for 4.5 meters.
3. Stolen Vehicle – 2014 Ford F150 (registered to Mrs. Chen Li). Vehicle recovered intact.
4. Recovered Materials – None.
WITNESS STATEMENTS:
1. Samuel Fairchild (Age 67, Store Owner): Claims Subject Alpha kicked a rock and fell headfirst, thereby knocking himself unconscious.
2. Marie Fairchild (Age 62, Store Owner): Corroborates husband's account. Adds that the rock was quite big and that it was a good thing the car thief had fallen over it. When questioned about the rock, the duo only shrugged their shoulders, with further claims that it must have rolled away.
3. Marcus Webb (Age 17, Student): Claimed to have recorded partial video footage of the confrontation, which involved an actual person instead of a rock, as claimed by the previous two witnesses. Technical analysis supports the claim of Marcus Webb, as it shows the video was briefly uploaded to social media before being scrubbed by an unknown party. The unknown party was able to scrub the video from the witness's phone as well, which calls into question the capability of the unknown party.
TECHNICAL ANALYSIS:
1. With the aid of forensic analysis on the aged device of the witness, we were able to recover partial details.
2. Subject Bravo (Unidentified Intervener) stands approximately 7'6" tall with a vibrant head of red hair.
3. Unfortunately, that was all that could be recovered from the device.
ENERGY SIGNATURE REPORT:
Spectral analysis of the impact site shows trace electromagnetic radiation consistent with atmospheric ionization. Residual ozone detected. Energy signature bears some similarity to documented Asgardian power usage (Thor Odinson, reference files: Battle of New York, Battle of Sokovia).
CIVILIAN IMPACT:
1. One elderly woman (Chen Li, Age 81) was hospitalized for shock and minor injuries from an initial robbery attempt. Prognosis: full recovery expected.
2. Local infrastructure damage: $47,000 (concrete repair, underground utility line, and pipe damage)
3. No civilian casualties
RECOMMENDATION:
1. Local populace should be ignored. Questions were asked of the mystery man, but agents were stonewalled by the locals. They were cooperative on every other thing but protective of Subject Bravo's identity, as expected of such a small town. The college students were more forthcoming but knew little of the rumored figure. Investigation stymied.
CURRENT STATUS:
1. Subject Alpha (Creel) remains in federal custody; medical condition: critical but stable
2. Subject Bravo (Unidentified) – whereabouts unknown
3. Stolen materials missing
4. Area secured, repairs ongoing
5. Investigation ongoing
THREAT ASSESSMENT: LOW TO MODERATE
CONCLUDED RECOMMENDATION:
Subject Bravo displays significant meta-human capabilities but appears to have exercised restraint (Subject Alpha survived the encounter). No evidence of hostile intent toward civilians. Locals are well aware of the subject's presence; therefore, the subject stays in close proximity. Recommend surveillance rather than direct confrontation pending further intelligence on the subject.
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FILED BY: Agent Morrison, Damage Control Regional Office
CLASSIFICATION LEVEL: 4
DISTRIBUTION: Damage Control Command, CIA, DHS, FBI Enhanced-Human Division
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Valentina stared at the tablet screen, her perfectly manicured fingers drumming a slow, deliberate rhythm against the mahogany desk she was still seated on. The Damage Control suit command was not subservient to her, but once more, the fall of SHIELD made the CIA the premier intelligence agency again, and they were forced to read her into any intelligence, especially when it concerned enhanced humans.
She read the Damage Control report again and praised the clinical and bureaucratic tone, but her praise was stymied by the annoyance that her agent had proven useless.
Creel had failed.
That in itself wasn't surprising. The man was a blunt instrument, useful for smash-and-grab operations but hardly the sharpest tool in the shed. What was surprising, what was interesting, was how thoroughly he'd failed.
One punch, according to the eyewitness who was willing to speak.
She scrolled back to the technical analysis section, her eyes scanning the numbers again. Creel had been taken down by someone who made him look like a child throwing a tantrum.
Valentina's lips curved into something that wasn't quite a smile. She'd been watching Creel for months, evaluating him for her new superhuman initiative. The plan was still a far thing; however, what was certain was that they needed superhumans. Preferably the ability to create their own, and Creel had seemed like a perfect test subject, however such plans were still far into the future.
O.X.E. was still in the beginning phases and would need at least a year until it was ready, so she had planned to use him until then.
Her initiative would need muscle, and the Absorbing Man had seemed like a perfect candidate with his abilities. Strong, durable, or malleable depending on the scenario, but most importantly, easily manipulated.
But this? This was pathetic.
If Creel couldn't handle a confrontation with one enhanced individual in the middle of nowhere, South Dakota, then he had no place in her plans. She made a mental note to cut him loose. Actually, scratch that. She made a note to have him transferred to a maximum security facility in Alaska. Loose ends had a way of becoming problems.
But the other individual…
She scrolled back to the witness descriptions. Seven and a half feet tall, who hit like a meteor. And according to the energy analysis, possibly Asgardian.
Thankfully, the figure had red hair, which put the missing Thor Odinson out of the picture. A calculation that was helped by the fact that, since the Avengers had scattered after Sokovia, the God of Thunder had apparently decided Earth's problems weren't his concern anymore.
So who was this?
Valentina tapped a few commands on the pad, pulling up satellite imagery of Madison, South Dakota. A nothing town. The population was barely worth mentioning. The kind of place people moved away from, not to.
Yet someone powerful enough to one-shot Creel was hiding there.
And they'd recovered her cargo.
That was the real problem. The duffel bag Creel had been transporting contained items from the decommissioned SHIELD facility close to the town. Items she'd very carefully arranged for him to steal. Experimental tech, old salvage, a few things that officially didn't exist.
Now they were missing, and the worst thing about things like this was her inability to even report it stolen. She nearly chuckled at the thought, but she was no longer the child who had led her father's killer to him. Once more, she was the Director of the CIA.
Her fingers stopped drumming, and she set down the tablet, leaned back in her chair, and looked out into the city skyline, considering her options.
Option one: let it go. Write off the loss, move on to other opportunities. There was always more tech, more weapons, more potential recruits.
Option two: send someone to investigate. Find out who this mystery Asgardian was, what they wanted, and whether they could be useful. Or at least ensure they weren't a threat to her plans.
She picked up her phone.
There was really only ever one real choice.
The phone rang twice before a woman's voice answered. Her voice was Flat. Professional, in the way that only came from either years of training as a wetwork agent or trauma. In this case, Valentina knew it was both.
"Starr."
"Good to hear from you, Agent Starr," Valentina replied smoothly, her accent perfectly calibrated to sound warm despite the coldness in her eyes. "I have a job for you."
"I'm listening."
Valentina smiled. Ava Starr, Ghost, was one of her better acquisitions from SHIELD's dissolution. The woman was a ghost in more ways than one, and a legend to anyone that knew her, but most importantly, she was a broken woman, one that was forced to be utterly loyal to whoever could provide her with the quantum stabilizers that kept her condition from killing her.
Valentina provided those stabilizers. Which meant Ghost was hers.
"There was an incident in South Dakota," Valentina began, pulling up the Damage Control report on her screen again. "One of our potential agents was neutralized by an unknown enhanced individual. I need you to find out who this individual is, what they're doing in Madison, and whether they pose a threat to the country."
"Parameters?"
"Surveillance only." Valentina paused, then added, "Though if the opportunity presents itself to recover certain items this individual may have acquired, I wouldn't object."
"Noted."
Valentina's fingers resumed their drumming, this time on the table. "I've sent the full Damage Control report to your secure drop. Review it, then get to Madison. Find our mystery man. And Ava?"
"Yes?"
"Be careful."
There was a brief pause.
"I'll... be fine," Starr replied with a strange tone in her voice.
"With the recovery of the stolen package." Valentina was forced to specify, this time the reply came quickly and just as professionally.
"Understood. I'll be in South Dakota as soon as possible."
"Good. Report back once you have something useful."
Valentina ended the call and set down the phone, her eyes glancing at it for only a moment. She had at least another fifteen minutes before she had to return to her actual office, noting that her eyes drifted once more to the skyline before her while her mind spun the new complexities into place. The world was changing, and she needed to be prepared to face it.
For the sake of her country.