A Top Agent's Methods

Natasha drove an army-green SUV along the smooth roads toward Brooklyn Cruise Port. On the way, Steve Rogers looked up and saw a helicopter bearing the S.H.I.E.L.D. emblem flying away overhead.

"Wasn't that helicopter here to pick us up?" Steve Rogers asked from the passenger seat, squinting against the sunlight streaming through the window. "Who else did you call in?"

"No. I was on pretty good terms with BOSS, so I got a better ride from him." Natasha curled her lips. "That was Clint's ride to pick up Peter."

Steve Rogers watched the S.H.I.E.L.D.-marked helicopter disappear into the distance and said unhappily, "You're sending a kid into battle? Didn't you say..."

"Steve, S.H.I.E.L.D. lost thirteen hundred agents in a matter of minutes." Natasha's expression suddenly turned cold as she said icily, "I was killing people when I was younger than Peter."

"But..."

"This war won't stop just because Peter is a child!" Natasha snapped.

Steve Rogers opened his mouth, but no words came out.

In a war between civilizations, with aliens preparing to invade, how could it possibly stop just because the other side had children?

S.H.I.E.L.D. losing thirteen hundred agents in barely more than ten minutes made us realize clearly that we needed exceptional support, people better than ordinary humans.

Don't worry. Peter would never be assigned to the front lines." Natasha drove the SUV toward Brooklyn Cruise Port, her tone softening slightly. "Unless we're all dead."

Steve Rogers fell silent and shook his head bitterly.

"What kind of battle is this, if even children have to take part?" Sam Wilson could not help looking at them from the back seat. He asked warily, "Steve, was I too rash to trust you and agree to join this war?"

"I forgot to give you this. Catch it, and hold it."