There's a Ghost in the House

There's a Ghost in the House

"Yes, sir. I'm willing to undergo questioning and a lie detector test. I believe Agent Melinda will be as well." Coulson was not at all surprised that he would be investigated. Given how the operation had turned out, it was only natural for those who knew the truth to be questioned. If an operation led by any agent ended up like this and no one investigated them, they might as well start preparing their funeral arrangements. That would mean there was no need to investigate them at all—they could simply be purged.

After stating his position, Coulson left. Nick Fury was now alone in his office. He walked over to the floor-to-ceiling window again and began analyzing the situation.

Why had the target suddenly vanished before S.H.I.E.L.D. launched its operation? Why had he hung grenades behind his own door as if he had known someone was coming to arrest him? Were they all coincidences?

Coincidences? The very thought made Nick Fury want to laugh. Half a lifetime in espionage had taught him one lesson: whenever something appeared to be a coincidence in his line of work, it had invariably been arranged by someone. This time would clearly be no exception. In every sense, his judgment was correct.

But if it was not a coincidence, how had this outcome come about?

There's a mole in the house. The thought surfaced in Nick Fury's mind. His single eye glinted with a terrifying light as he silently weighed the possibility.

This operation had been extremely sudden—almost rushed. The target could not have learned of it through any other channel; there had not been enough time. That left only insiders. But who could it be?

Only he, Coulson, and Melinda knew there were Hydra members in the Deadlock Gang. No, there was one more—the Inhuman named Evenson Richter? Oh, a Sorcerer. He had been the one to provide that information. Yet he was the least likely suspect. First he killed Hydra personnel, then reported them to S.H.I.E.L.D., only to turn around and sell S.H.I.E.L.D. out to Hydra? What did he want, to play both sides?

Hmph. Anyone with an IQ above average would never do something that stupid. Playing both sides only meant losing everything. Hydra would only remember that he had killed their people and exposed them, while S.H.I.E.L.D. would only remember his betrayal. In the end, he would offend both sides completely.

Then it had to be one of their own. But that could not be determined through deduction alone; a rigorous investigation was necessary. The key question was how broad the investigation needed to be. Melinda and Coulson could not avoid it. They knew the truth, so investigating them was inevitable. But should the strike team be investigated as well? They did not know the truth, but they knew the target of this operation was the Deadlock Gang. If there was a Hydra mole among them, they might very well have guessed the operation's true purpose. And considering the strike team's connections, the scope would need to expand further—perhaps even to the entirety of S.H.I.E.L.D. Such a massive investigation would severely damage S.H.I.E.L.D.'s normal operations, morale, and public confidence. The blow to morale in particular would be devastating.

At that thought, Nick Fury slowly closed his eye. Unless absolutely necessary, he truly did not want to go that far.

Nick Fury was deeply troubled, but someone else was even more troubled—so agitated that he could neither sit nor stand at ease.

Alexander Pierce. A middle-aged white man with blond hair that had begun to turn gray with age. His eyes always carried an air of wisdom—though calling it cunning would not be wrong either. He was currently a S.H.I.E.L.D. minister responsible for liaising with the World Security Council, with Level 10 clearance. But that was merely his public identity. In truth, he was Hydra's top leader hidden within S.H.I.E.L.D.

Pierce had been inexplicably restless all day, constantly feeling that something bad was about to happen. He had even said a prayer, hoping his premonition was wrong. Unfortunately, the sound of knocking at his door shattered that hope.

The visitor was Sitwell, a bald Indian-American agent with clear-lens glasses and Level Six Clearance. But he was also Pierce's trusted subordinate—in every sense of the phrase.

Seeing Sitwell enter in a panic and open his mouth to speak, Pierce cursed his damned luck inwardly, then immediately raised a hand to stop him. "What pretext did you use to come see me?"

It was obvious that what they were about to discuss concerned Hydra, not S.H.I.E.L.D. business. They needed to establish a cover story first, lest anyone ask later and the two of them give completely different answers.

That brief pause calmed Sitwell considerably. "Sir, I came to ask for instructions. General Ross wants S.H.I.E.L.D.'s help locating Hulk. Should we agree?"

Pierce nodded in satisfaction. "Tell General Ross to handle it himself. S.H.I.E.L.D. is not responsible for cleaning up the military's messes. That is Director Fury's position as well."

"Yes, sir. I know how to reply to General Ross." Sitwell put on an act as he answered.

Pierce motioned for Sitwell to sit before him. "Now you can tell me your news. I assume it is bad news."

Sitwell adjusted his glasses and said quietly, "Sir, members of the organization have been exposed."

The muscles in Pierce's face twitched. He had expected bad news, but not this bad. Hydra was currently entirely in hiding; it was nowhere near ready to step into the light. "Are you certain?"

Pierce knew it was pointless, but he still wanted to confirm it once more. What if the bald man in front of him had suddenly developed a malignant sense of humor and was trying to amuse himself?

Sitwell naturally would not court death so recklessly at a time like this. "We did not know those members existed before, so we cannot be completely certain. But we have people in the strike team that was deployed this time, and they determined that they were indeed members of the organization. Those members were hidden within the Deadlock Gang. This morning, the entire gang was wiped out in one sweep."

Pierce looked somewhat bewildered after hearing that. "The Deadlock Gang? What the hell is that?"

As a S.H.I.E.L.D. minister with Level 10 clearance, someone on equal footing with Nick Fury and capable of chatting and laughing with the World Security Council, he genuinely had no idea what the Deadlock Gang was.

"A small black gang in Brooklyn. They collect protection money and sell marijuana," Sitwell explained.

Pierce rapped the desk after hearing that. "Those damned Young Turks. All they know is how to abuse their elders' influence and run wild. That would be one thing, but now they have caused such a huge mess."

The Young Turks, as the name implied, were the younger Hydra members. Some were children of Hydra higher-ups or other officers, while others had been brainwashed into joining during their volatile adolescent years. But Hydra's leaders might have been protecting their younger relatives, or perhaps truly felt that they lacked experience and were not fit for important duties, so they generally did not put them to work. Most of these wealthy and powerful second-generation Hydra members lived in extravagance and decadence. Eventually, bored out of their minds, forming gangs and causing trouble became their inevitable fate.

"I do not care about that trash, so long as it does not involve us." Pierce looked down on the Young Turks from the bottom of his heart. Of course, some among them were talents worth cultivating, but most were just piles of shit. He could not be bothered with whether they lived or died, as long as they did not implicate the part of Hydra under his command. That was also because there were no Young Turks in his branch of Hydra, and he did not believe any higher-up's son would be running a street gang and collecting protection money. Even if those people went criminal, they would turn it into a publicly traded company. Why would they bother with street-level business?

"Sir, I'm afraid you will be disappointed again. We may already be involved," Sitwell said with difficulty.