Nick Fury never denied that he had received help on his path to promotion, nor did he deny that Alexander Pierce, that traitor, had recommended him in part for his command of S.H.I.E.L.D. But someone without any ability would never have been regarded as a pawn by Hydra. His own capabilities had never fallen short of the title "King of Agents." He had always believed that the investigative side of intelligence work had much in common with the FBI's criminal psychology: both emphasized profiling, both emphasized a target's motives—without motives, one could not explain a target's actions or predict the trajectory of their behavior. All along, Nick Fury had believed that when analyzing that most important target, the map of his research had always lacked one puzzle piece: "motive." Now, that piece was very likely about to fall into place. Even someone as composed as him could not help but feel his blood boil. He felt his teeth brushing against the prey's fur. He could almost smell the sweet blood beneath it.
Ever since Agent Coulson had arrived in Collins Town years ago, Nick Fury's tracking of this target's psychological trajectory had never stopped. S.H.I.E.L.D. had hired the finest profiling experts, criminal psychologists, and behavioral scientists, giving them limited knowledge and producing enough files to fill an entire office. Even so, S.H.I.E.L.D. had found nothing. The only thing they could determine was the target's antisocial personality. Even that truth had been wrapped in a glittering golden veneer, enchanting countless people, including Natasha Romanoff, one of his most trusted agents. It was as though the target possessed an almost supernatural charisma that made people believe in him, adore him, even become obsessed with him.
Nick Fury had to admit that even he had been affected by that supernatural charm. Even during