Hill delivered the briefing without softening it.
"Loki, second prince of Asgard, attacked one of our research facilities and stole S.H.I.E.L.D.'s Item 084 — the Tesseract. The underground base has completely collapsed. Unsalvageable. The losses are still being calculated, but they're significant." She held his gaze. "According to Director Fury, Loki has declared his intention to rule the Earth."
Smith Doyle listened without any visible reaction. When she finished, he asked, mildly, "The Tesseract."
"Correct."
"I've been through a considerable amount of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s intelligence files, Commander. I don't recall seeing anything about it."
Hill's expression tightened slightly. She clearly had no interest in being the one to answer for that. "The intelligence classification system has always fallen under Director Fury's direct authority. The specifics of what's accessible at which clearance level — that's his purview, not mine."
Smith let the silence sit for a moment, then smiled. "Of course it is." He pushed back from the desk and stood. "It seems there are still quite a few corners of S.H.I.E.L.D. that are kept conveniently out of reach. That explains some things I've been wondering about." He picked up his jacket from the back of the chair. "Shall we go? Level Seven alert means Fury's already assembling the Avengers. I'd like to see who made the cut."
Nick Fury had a gift for projecting calm in front of people he needed something from. The UN Security Council, arranged across the virtual conference screen in the Triskelion's main briefing room, was getting the full benefit of that gift.
It wasn't going perfectly.
"You've overreached, Director." The congressman's tone was the particular flatness of a man who had prepared his objections in advance. "You're talking about forces you cannot control."
"Congressman." Fury kept his voice level. "Have you ever been in combat?"
"That's not—"
"Have you ever experienced total control over a battlefield?" He didn't wait for an answer. "An alien prince just walked into one of our most secure facilities, took our most classified asset, and announced he intends to conquer this planet. I'm not asking for permission to feel comfortable. I'm asking for the personnel to respond."
The congressman shifted. "You're telling us this alien has declared war on Earth."
"Yes. That's exactly what I'm telling you. It was premeditated — he came through the Tesseract, took it, and left. That's not opportunism. That's a plan." Fury brought up the Avengers roster. "The strongest response we can mount includes Tony Stark at the peak of human technology, and Smith Doyle at the peak of human physical capability. Those two alone represent assets no conventional military force can match."
A pause. "I hope Smith can manage that enraged monster you're also proposing to include."
"Bruce Banner is a scientist, not a monster."
The female council member leaned forward. "You have an entire intelligence organization, Director. Two years of recruiting. And the best you can show us is one young woman?"
Fury's jaw tightened. He had four enhanced individuals under S.H.I.E.L.D.'s umbrella — Rogers, Jones, and the two he wanted quietly embedded inside the Paragons just as that operation was wrapping up. The timing couldn't have been worse. He wasn't going to pull Chen Haoran out of Paragons because of one alien incursion and adding Donnie Gill to the Avengers roster while the Paragons rejection was still fresh would put him directly in Smith Doyle's crosshairs.
"The distinction among enhanced individuals is capability, not headcount," he said. "A dozen soldiers don't outperform Steve Rogers. The metrics aren't comparable."
The male congressman who'd spoken first said, "We've allocated significant resources to the Avengers program. Considerable resources. We expect results proportional to that investment."
Fury didn't let himself react to that. A significant portion of that funding had gone toward things the Security Council would find difficult to itemize — contingencies, off-book research, operational reserves. The Avengers base itself had received perhaps ten cents of every dollar earmarked for it. He'd answer for that another day.
After forty minutes of back-and-forth, Fury had what he needed: formal authorization to expand the Avengers team plus standing authority to recruit additional personnel as the situation required.
He closed out the Security Council call and went to find Rogers and Jones.
The base gym smelled of chalk and rubber. Rogers had been at the heavy bag for the better part of an hour, and the evidence was scattered across the floor — three bags, all destroyed, the last one still swaying slightly from the final punch that had split it open at the seam.
He didn't notice. He was somewhere else entirely — the North Atlantic, 1945, a cockpit filling with ice water, a voice on a radio he'd never get to answer in person.
Jessica Jones sat on a bench ten feet away, watching him with a Coke in one hand. When the bag exploded she raised an eyebrow, took a sip, and set the bottle down. "Captain. That bag isn't going to fight back. Spar with me if you need a workout."
Before Rogers could answer, Fury walked in.
"Good. You're both here." He crossed the gym toward them. "Something's happened. I need you up to speed."
Jones's eyes lit up. "Mission?"
"Bigger." He handed them each a sealed folder — Level Seven classification, stamped in red across the cover. "This might be the start of a war."
Jones went still. Rogers opened the folder to the first page, saw the photograph of the Tesseract, and said quietly, "Hydra's weapon."
Fury said, "Howard Stark pulled it from the bottom of the ocean when he was searching for you. We've been researching it as an energy source. Clean, unlimited power — exactly what the world needs."
Rogers closed the folder. "Who took it?"
"An alien. And Rogers — I need you to understand, the world has changed considerably since you went under."
Rogers glanced at him. "I've gathered."
"I'd bet ten dollars you'll say that differently after today."
Rogers was already walking toward the door. "You shouldn't have pulled it from the ocean," he said, without turning around. Jones followed a step behind him, scanning through the briefing as she walked.
Ninety stories above midtown Manhattan, Tony Stark stood on the roof of Stark Tower in his Iron Man armor and watched the skyline for a moment before beginning the process of extraction.
The tower had been his largest single engineering project since the arc reactor redesign — a skyscraper built around a clean energy spine, capable of powering the entire building and feeding surplus back into the city grid. He'd just finished the final integration of the new elemental arc reactor into the tower's power infrastructure, coming up through the subterranean access shaft he'd installed for exactly this purpose, and the readings on his heads-up display looked exactly the way he'd hoped they would look for the past eighteen months.
The Iron man suit folded away panel by panel into the housing rack.
He stepped off the rack in civilian clothes and took in the view.
"Sir," JARVIS said, "Agent Coulson from S.H.I.E.L.D. is attempting to reach you on the executive line."
"Tell him I'm unavailable."
"He's been attempting to reach you for the past forty minutes. He's been quite persistent."
"Good for him. Persistence builds character."
Pepper had come up from the interior via the penthouse stairs and was standing near the glass railing with a tablet, running power output comparisons.
"Power distribution is holding," she said. "The grid integration is actually cleaner than the projections."
"That's because the projections were conservative. I build margin in."
"You build margin in so you can exceed the projections and feel good about it."
"Those two things aren't mutually exclusive."
The private elevator chimed.
The doors opened.
Phil Coulson stepped out, looking unhurried and entirely unbothered by the forty minutes of ignored calls.
"Mr. Stark." He nodded to Pepper. "Ms. Potts. I apologize for the interruption."
"You used the private elevator," Tony said. "That's not an interruption; that's a security violation. Those are different categories."
"JARVIS was gracious enough to cooperate." Coulson set the case on the table near the railing and opened it. Inside was a tablet loaded with a classified briefing package. "I need fifteen minutes."
He accepted it. "My official consultation window is Thursdays, eight to five, every other week."
"This isn't a consultation," Coulson said.
Pepper glanced at the screen over Tony's shoulder. "Is this about the Avengers?"
Coulson looked at her, briefly unable to decide what to say. Tony had apparently told Pepper more than was strictly advisable.
Pepper crossed to the table, looked at the tablet for a moment. "I'll give you two some privacy," she said, and picked up her own tablet and moved toward the interior.
Tony had already turned toward the windows, tablet open, scrolling. "Avengers base is already built. Since it's basically just me and Smith, I keep thinking we should rebrand—"