With the great battle bearing down on them, there was no time to bother with these fools. The police and military still had legal concerns to worry about, but Daisy carried no such burden. Leaving these people alive was a waste of food, so she ordered the Hydra men under her command to drag the loudest of the idiots into an alley and shoot them.
In the end, Stark didn't go with the assault plan after all. Instead he invited the Avengers up to the top floor of his tower to observe the enemy's movements.
It was one of the highest points in New York, with a clear line of sight. Director Daisy showed up uninvited with the White Queen and walked right up to the top floor with the rest.
The mood was heavy, no one speaking. Everyone was making their final preparations.
Not far from Stark Tower stood another rather lavish-looking high-rise, and up on its rooftop several men and women were out in the open, engaged in a bit of piston motion.
Ordinary people didn't have the eyesight for it, but every one of the enhanced individuals could see it clearly.
Some were contemptuous, some baffled, and some just found the whole thing bizarre.
"White people. Almost all white. The ones on the street corners holding up signs welcoming the aliens are all white too. Heh." Daisy couldn't hold it in, and let a jab or two slip out.
It was a broad swipe, and the group all chose to stay silent.
The only one who could still discuss it with her in earnest at a moment like this was Captain America. He thought for a few seconds, then asked, quite sincerely, "Is it a problem with education? Why would they welcome invaders? From where I stand, living conditions now are far better than they were in my day."
Daisy smiled lightly. "Why? Because material conditions are too good. America has six percent of the world's population, yet it consumes thirty-five percent of the world's resources."
She pointed at the young people going at their piston motion, then at the ones holding up signs opposing the military's resistance. "They've been handed a mountain of resources and take it all for granted. Their spirits are hollow, so naturally they come up with notions no one can make sense of. I'm afraid even a bullet in the body wouldn't wake them up."
"Naive, childish—thinking the world they see is the whole of reality. They imagine everyone everywhere is lovely. Weren't there a couple of lovebirds a few days ago who believed there was no evil in the world and biked off to Afghanistan? Tony's been to Afghanistan. Ask him whether the people there are so full of love."
Stark turned his face away and didn't answer her.
The battle was about to begin. Nobody cared about that trash; even Captain America wasn't planning to go down and save anyone. Beat the enemy back first, then talk.
Not a single general dared come to New York to take command—more than anything, they were afraid of being left holding the bag. Win, and fine; lose, and then what? In the movies, "alien" was a byword for invincible. So after all the winding around, command finally landed on the head of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s deputy director.
To make her command easier, the President proposed and the Secretary of Defense approved handing her a brigadier general's commission outright. The Pentagon said up front that it was temporary—after the war it would be revoked, and she'd be given the rank of colonel instead.
Colonel, brigadier general, whatever—it didn't matter. Being the one giving orders instead of taking them was always a good thing. And she had no intention of watching the fun from outside New York anyway. After a token show of reluctance, she took the hot potato.
Daisy watched the upper atmosphere carefully. The moment the first Chitauri came charging in, she issued her first command over the comms channel: "The enemy's here. All units, go to combat status. Wait for my order."
In her eyes, the Chitauri's movements slowed, time stretching out long and thin. Five, fifty, five hundred! When the enemy's numbers hit a thousand, Daisy gave the word: "Fire!"
The Chitauri vanguard had barely broken into the atmosphere when countless missiles rose to meet them.
Every missile silo across the Western Hemisphere had opened, all of them trained on the skies above New York.
Fifteen Trident missiles launched into the densest cluster of the enemy—but the effect was poor. Fire lit the sky and the blasts were ferocious, yet the enemy was too dispersed. Clearly they had plenty of experience dealing with ground-based missiles; a single long-range missile usually killed only five or six ordinary soldiers.
Daisy immediately told the military to hold off on the missile launches.
"They've got large troop-transport ships. Save the missiles for those. Use artillery shells for the regular enemies."
The M270 Multiple Launch Rocket Systems already positioned along the streets received the order and opened fire, each battery covering its assigned zone.
Countless rockets streaked up trailing tails of flame, and the Chitauri vanguard was bathed in the barrage. A few vicious-looking Chitauri tried to flee on their personal flyers, only to be blown to pieces by the dense volley.
Daisy relayed the footage to the rear. Odin, the Ancient One—so many big shots were watching from the shadows. She didn't think Earth would lose. The only question was how heavy the sacrifice would be. If morale ran high, maybe the casualties would come in lighter.
Against a species so vast in number, the vanguard's paltry losses truly meant nothing to the Chitauri. Their army surged forward like a tide, at last breaking through the atmosphere—a metallic flood pouring straight down toward New York.
Rat-tat-tat—howitzers and rocket artillery of every kind opened with a first savage wave, followed by anti-aircraft machine guns roaring to life across the board.
The Chitauri dropped to the ground like dumplings into boiling water, splattering into heaps of flesh and blood. More of them were shredded in midair, severed limbs scattering everywhere.
"Everyone, let's join the fight." With that, Captain America strapped on a parachute pack and leapt off the top of Stark Tower. Truthfully, Daisy had never understood what this guy was doing leaving his special-ops team down below and running up here in the first place—he had no way to fly, so wouldn't he have been better off just staying on the ground?
And he could have just said the word and had someone carry him down, or Daisy could have opened a door and teleported him over. But no—the never-ask-anyone-for-anything Captain jumped off like an airborne trooper.
"That building on 30th Street." Hawkeye said it to Daisy, and she opened a door for him on the spot.
Black Widow likewise found her fighting position, and Daisy teleported her over too.
"You're not joining in?" Stark asked, lowering his faceplate.
"Not time yet."
The two exchanged a brief word, and then Stark shot into the air alongside War Machine, clearing out the enemies that had slipped past the anti-aircraft guns.
Thor and Spider-Woman each threw themselves into the fight as well.
"I…" Bruce Banner pointed at himself, then out at the battlefield.
"Dr. Banner, hold off for now. In a little while there'll be a guy in a green robe and an antlered helmet who'll need you to deal with him."
One good windmill spin, and Loki ought to snap out of it, right? Director Daisy was sure of it.
Speak of Loki, and Loki appeared.
Today Loki came empty-handed. The Scepter was most likely in Supergiant's hands, which sat heavy in Daisy's chest.
There was Loki, trailing his long cape, walking up to a small squad of American soldiers—not just GIs, but a level-three S.H.I.E.L.D. agent and two armed civilians as well.