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*****
Although Fini intended to let Pietro and Wanda help Nick Fury deal with the Hydra infestation, he had no plans to dispatch them just yet.
After all, they were still a long way from fully mastering their respective abilities. Sending them in now wouldn't be providing backup; if anything, they would more than likely just end up complicating the entire operation.
"By the way, exactly how much do you actually know about Hydra at this point?" Fini asked out of the blue. He was rather curious to see just how far Fury's investigation had progressed, and whether the Director knew that his old mentor and boss was a card-carrying member of the snake pit.
"Their infiltration is catastrophic."
Fury's naturally dark complexion seemed to turn even darker as he spoke in a low, gravelly tone: "At a bare minimum, at least one-third of the entire S.H.I.E.L.D. infrastructure consists of their operatives."
"Oh!?"
Fini shot a slightly surprised glance at the Director. For Fury to openly admit to a number like one-third meant his internal, unspoken estimate was undoubtedly much higher.
Noticing Fini's reaction, Fury's brow furrowed tightly. He asked with utmost gravity, "Do you know something I don't?"
Before Fini had departed for Asgard, the two of them had discussed this exact issue. It was precisely because of Fini's explicit caution that Fury had prudently opted to conduct a slow, deep-cover investigation instead of kicking the hornets' nest.
From those facts alone, it was transparently clear that Fini possessed concrete intelligence regarding Hydra.
"Yes, I do happen to know a few things," Fini did not bother denying it this time. Since he had already committed to taking down Hydra eventually anyway, there was no point in hoarding the intelligence forever.
He leaned forward and said, "There are a lot of Hydra moles in S.H.I.E.L.D.—my personal estimate places them at more than half the total roster."
Not a single trace of shock registered on Fury's face. In reality, that grim assessment aligned perfectly with the worst-case scenario calculations running in his own mind.
"Furthermore, they actually sent an extraction team to deal with me a while back," Fini added casually. "Though, I ended up wiping them out entirely."
"When did this happen?"
Hearing this, Fury's composure finally fractured. He instinctively snapped at Fini, demanding, "Why wasn't I briefed on this immediately?"
"I am not one of your field agents, Director. I don't owe you a status report every time I clear a room," Fini countered smoothly.
As he spoke, an intense aura—forged and tempered by his skyrocketing personal cosmic might—instantly flared, bearing down on Nick Fury with suffocating pressure.
The sudden weight in the air forced the Director to snap back to reality. He reined in his temper, understanding all too well that now was not the time to cross swords with Fini over a lack of communication. Instead, he needed to identify the hostile players.
"Who was behind it? Why did they target you?"
Seeing that Fury had seated himself properly and dialed his tone back to an acceptable level, Fini offered a brief glance, choosing not to press the issue. He answered nonchalantly, "Do you happen to recall exactly who it was that personally sponsored your promotion to Director of S.H.I.E.L.D.?"
"Him!?"
Fury straightened like a rod, his face turning an almost impossible shade of absolute black.
In truth, over the course of his grueling, months-long shadow investigation, he had flagged a handful of glaring anomalies surrounding Alexander Pierce. Yet, in his heart of hearts, it was an incredibly bitter pill to swallow—accepting that the very man who had single-handedly built his career and handed him the keys to the kingdom was actually a high-ranking Hydra cell.
"Looks like you still have a decent memory," Fini observed with an amused grin, watching the Director's contorted expression. A rogue thought crossed his mind, wondering if Fury would throw a tantrum if he whipped out his phone to snap a picture of this historic frown.
Fury, however, didn't afford Fini the opportunity. Within a matter of seconds, his face smoothed back into his signature, inscrutable mask.
He pressed on, "Why would he order a strike on you? And more importantly, how did they manage to track your location?"
"They probably ordered the strike because they figured I'd eventually evolve into an inconvenient obstacle for whatever they're planning," Fini lied smoothly, leaving out the small detail about him actively hunting down Arnim Zola's server farm.
He shrugged and added, "And they didn't track me down. I found out they were digging into my business, so I took the liberty of paying them a house call."
"..."
Fury stared at Fini, his eye clouded with a deeply complex cocktail of emotions. He asked once more, "If you knew without a shadow of a doubt that Alexander Pierce was the mastermind, why on Earth did you leave him breathing!?"
Based on his comprehensive behavioral analysis and psychological profile of Fini, the teenager was absolutely not the type of person to leave a dangerous enemy standing on the board.
"I had a lot on my plate at the time, and I really didn't feel like turning your entire headquarters into a demolition derby," Fini said with a careless shrug.
Naturally, that was only a fraction of the truth. The finer details—such as his desire to keep the timeline from fracturing prematurely, and the fact that he was technically a supreme Hydra Leader himself—were things Nick Fury absolutely did not need to know.
Fury, being the spy master he was, didn't believe a syllable of that overly simplified excuse for a second. However, he was also acutely aware that he currently possessed zero leverage to compel the boy to speak.
---
Yet, what neither Fini nor Nick Fury realized at that exact moment was that the very man dominating their conversation—Alexander Pierce—was currently locked in a heated discussion regarding the two of them.
S.H.I.E.L.D. Headquarters, The Triskelion. Office of the Secretary.
"A short while ago, Nick Fury utilized a heavily encrypted, off-grid terminal to place an outbound call. Immediately afterward, he went dark and vanished from the premises without clearing it with any detail. I strongly suspect he has gone to meet a high-profile asset."
Listening to Jasper Sitwell's concise briefing, the deep lines etched into Pierce's aging face seemed to wrinkle even further. He sat motionless behind his desk, sinking into a prolonged silence before suddenly breaking it with a chilling realization:
"He's onto us."
"Sir?" Sitwell blinked, momentarily caught off guard by the abrupt conclusion.
"I know Nick Fury inside and out. His operational behavior over the past few months has been entirely too erratic. He has undoubtedly uncovered a thread, and he's actively pulling on it."
Pierce raised his eyes to lock onto Sitwell, abruptly shifting the focus to a separate liability: "Is there still absolutely no actionable intelligence regarding the Silver Knight?"
"None whatsoever, sir. It's as if he has completely vanished off the face of the Earth," Sitwell replied with an immediate, practiced shake of his head.
On one hand, he genuinely knew that Fini had been tied up with some off-world business; on the other hand, as a loyal subordinate within Fini's personal Hydra faction, he was actively throwing sand in S.H.I.E.L.D.'s tracking systems to keep the boy's data permanently buried.
Hearing Sitwell's report, Pierce closed his eyes once more, retreating into deep calculation. A moment later, his eyelids snapped open, a cold finality settling into his gaze as he issued a decree: "Deploy an asset to permanently eliminate Fury."
At this, Sitwell froze again, making a conscious effort to keep his composure level as he sought confirmation: "Are you authorizing the termination of Director Fury, sir?"
"Yes. If we don't take him off the board now, he will launch an offensive against us before the week is out."
Alexander Pierce rubbed his temples, feeling a massive headache brewing. He understood Fury's terrifying operational capabilities better than anyone; it was precisely because of that lethal competence that he had bypassed intense political opposition to single-handedly engineer Fury's ascension to Director.
And just as he had calculated, Fury had managed S.H.I.E.L.D. flawlessly, providing the perfect screen for Hydra to grow exponentially more powerful beneath the shadows.
However, a man like Nick Fury was a classic double-edged sword. Handled with absolute precision, he yielded monumental returns; handled poorly, he would swing backward and cleave his master in two.
Therefore, to guarantee the seamless execution of their grand design, Pierce was entirely prepared to discard him.
Granted, they hadn't completely milked the Director for every drop of his bureaucratic utility just yet, but Project Insight had already cleared the World Security Council's voting thresholds. As long as the physical launch proceeded without operational interference, they could simply refine Zola's predictive algorithm on the fly. They no longer strictly required Fury to cross the finish line.
Ever the consummate professional, Sitwell suppressed his internal shock and asked in a level voice, "Which asset shall we activate for the assignment?"
The name The Winter Soldier immediately hovered on the tip of Pierce's tongue. However, he quickly recalled that Bucky Barnes was the absolute last remaining operative of his caliber, and intelligence indicated that Tony Stark had recently been aggressively poking around into old cold cases related to that unit.
After a brief calculation of the strategic risks, Pierce clarified, "Activate Ghost. Instruct her to execute the target with extreme prejudice, and ensure she leaves absolutely no operational footprint behind."
"Understood, sir."
Picturing that elusive, phase-shifting phantom, Sitwell nodded in agreement. While the asset might lack the sheer, raw battlefield dominance of the Winter Soldier in a prolonged firefight, her specialized suite of capabilities made her an infinitely more terrifying specter when it came to clean, untraceable assassinations.
The moment he crossed the threshold out of Pierce's office, Sitwell immediately set the gears in motion. Because Fini had given explicit, ironclad instructions prior to his departure forbidding any proactive contact unless absolutely vital, Sitwell didn't even entertain the thought of looping the boy into the loop.
Meanwhile, back in the residential living room, Nick Fury remained completely oblivious to the fact that his old mentor had just signed his death warrant. His mind was entirely preoccupied with a profound sense of intrigue regarding the two individuals Fini had just offered to put on his payroll—Pietro and Wanda.
(End of Chapter)