"A concealment spell? Let's see... Aldrich's Scarlet Stomach? It requires the stomach of an adult golden dragon as the primary casting material. That doesn't seem possible... Cecil's Evil Sight? It does have a concealment effect, but the spell is a little difficult..."
Wanda frowned as she leafed through the Darkhold, nodding at times and shaking her head at others, all to find a spell that could conceal the Tesseract.
Daisy knew nothing about magic, but spells named after people sounded incredibly sophisticated to her. Did they really need anything that advanced?
Still, Wanda looked unbearably cute when she was serious—the sort of cute that made Daisy want to tease her.
Daisy coughed. "Do you have anything simpler? It only needs to keep ordinary people from seeing it."
Surprise spread across Wanda's small face. "You only want to guard against ordinary people? Didn't you say the people over in New York..." She pointed toward the New York Sanctum.
"Don't worry. Those people are nowhere near your level."
Wanda's heart bloomed at Daisy's praise. The corners of her lips lifted, brimming with pride.
Abandoning the profound spells in the Darkhold, Wanda raised a hand toward the box and cast a glamour spell. It would never fool the Ancient One, but deceiving ordinary people was no problem at all.
Daisy looked over. The box had vanished from sight. Danger ran two scans and found nothing unusual.
"Excellent. Don't let anyone see it," Daisy instructed solemnly.
Wanda nodded with utmost seriousness and patted her rather impressive chest, assuring Daisy that she could rest easy.
The Tesseract was temporarily hidden, but the Mind Scepter could not be concealed the same way. No individual or nation could be trusted with such an artifact. Only placing it in the nominally neutral hands of S.H.I.E.L.D. would satisfy all sides.
The Mind Scepter was sealed inside a metal case. In front of several witnesses, the two S.H.I.E.L.D. leaders used their respective Level Ten clearances as joint conditions for unsealing it, then locked it in a highly classified underground vault.
Daisy smiled, extremely pleased with this result. She knew that even if the vault were sealed a thousand times more tightly, it would make no difference whatsoever to Kitty Pryde.
Once the two troublesome objects were handled, the two S.H.I.E.L.D. leaders split up to deal with their own affairs.
Hill was assigned all of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s battle-loss accounting. The work was tedious, and Daisy had no patience for statistics, but she trusted Hill to do it well.
The Battle of New York had ended, but the Chitauri's defeat was not an ending. It was a beginning. An age of immense change had finally opened.
Daisy drove back to Hammer Industries. Quite a few robot soldiers had been lost in the battle, and she intended to report every loss to the Pentagon. Each robot soldier cost money. They had only entered the war in response to the Pentagon's call, so rather than let those generals embezzle the funds, the money might as well go toward relieving a poor woman like her.
In front of the Hammer Industries building, she saw Phil Coulson and two suspicious-looking men standing by the roadside and waving at her.
Recognizing her Porsche was nothing unusual; nearly every traffic officer in New York knew it. Daisy was only puzzled by Coulson's presence. Was he waiting for her?
"Aren't you going back to your school?" Daisy still respected Coulson quite a bit. She got out of the car and questioned him.
Coulson gave two dry laughs, seemingly unsure what to say.
"Miss Johnson, we suffered enormous losses protecting the students of Midtown High School. You see..." The disreputable-looking man wore glasses, and blood still clung to his greasy long hair. He looked as though he had rushed over the moment the fighting ended. As he spoke, he displayed his arm. A gash had been cut into it, leaving flesh and blood exposed. It looked rather gruesome.
The man beside him was dressed even more dramatically. Half his body was covered in Chitauri blood, and the sour smell made it seem as though he had fallen into a vat of sauce.
When he noticed Daisy looking at him, he even struck a heroic pose with his chest out and head held high.
Daisy's mind turned twice before she understood. These two were here to demand money. In this day and age, someone actually dared ask her for money. What a miracle.
The disreputable man handed her a small notebook, apparently hoping she would inspect the losses.
Daisy waved him off. The shabby notebook was filthy, and she did not take it. Agents had reported the mercenaries and students to her during the battle, so she knew the broad outline but not the details.
As far as she was concerned, saving Midtown High School was a good deed. That brat Lorna was, after all, a member of her family. Since these people had risked themselves to save others, Daisy would not let outsiders suffer financially for it.
She sighed and took out her checkbook. "How much in total?"
Her money-is-no-object tone made the two men exchange a glance. Each saw delight in his old friend's eyes. They had found a fat sheep.
The disreputable man immediately put the notebook away and stammered, "E-eight hundred thousand!"
Daisy arched a delicate brow and turned toward Coulson, silently asking whether the losses had really been that high.
Coulson had either been protecting students or fighting at the time, so he genuinely had not noticed the damage to the little tavern. In his estimation, it could not possibly have reached eight hundred thousand. Eighty thousand at most. Still, the mercenaries' willingness to protect the children had moved him. Lives were priceless. The mercenaries were all skilled enough that no one had died, but several had been wounded, and he believed he owed them an explanation.
Coulson decided to stake his reputation on Daisy giving him face and forced himself to nod.
The facts proved that Daisy did give him face. She was also in a good mood after obtaining the Tesseract. Even though she could tell something was wrong with the figure, she still had Coulson sign for it and issued an eight-hundred-thousand-dollar check from S.H.I.E.L.D.'s account.
When she moved to leave, the handsome man shoved his disreputable companion aside, crowded in front of Daisy, and extended a hand. "Wade Wilson, at your service."
She did not shake it. Wade's hand was covered in blood. Instead, she removed her nonprescription glasses and studied the famous Wade Wilson. He was fairly handsome, though this was the sort of face she would have fewer and fewer chances to see.
Wade did not understand the meaning behind her penetrating look, nor did he care. The moment Daisy stopped, he began his sales pitch. "We can take on the repair and reconstruction of the Hammer Industries building, right?"
He turned to his partner, Weasel. The disreputable man had known nothing about this plan beforehand, but their rapport was good enough that he nodded without hesitation. That was right. What was so difficult about building a house? If they did not know how, they could learn.
Wade continued rambling. "We can install the world's strongest Adamantium doors and windows. Every room will have a terrorist-attack alarm button that instantly dials 911. You'll never have to worry about thieves or aliens bothering you again. In an emergency, it can even fax the Avengers. You've heard of the newly formed Avengers, right?"
Wade questioned them with a solemn expression. Daisy, Coulson, and Weasel all nodded in unison.
"And finally, the most important point: even Cain Marko, the Juggernaut, couldn't break the walls we build. How does that sound?" Wade stared at Daisy with shining eyes. It would be even better if this beautiful urban woman worried about her personal safety; he could sell her many more private-security measures.