A Worthless Bunch

"I'm glad you agreed to this conversation, Salomon."

Agent Coulson sat on the bench commonly found in Oxford's countless pubs. He wore an old suit and looked utterly exhausted. Deep wrinkles lined the corners of his gentle eyes, as though he had aged considerably during this time. He was not alone on the bench; Salomon sat across from him. Agent Coulson pushed a burrito toward him, the pub's specialty. Salomon accepted it, his gaze sweeping over the surroundings—Agent Coulson had not come alone. His team waited in a jeep not far away, awaiting orders.

Salomon did not need to use Mind Reading on their open, defenseless minds to know what they were thinking. Agent Coulson had surely requested to meet alone, but they had already identified Salomon as the most dangerous target and insisted on following him here. When he sensed an emotion that mingled hatred with worry, he knew there was one more person hiding nearby. Agent Coulson showed no intention of giving orders. Instead, he asked, "How long has it been since we talked like this? Many years, I suppose?"

"Is there any need to ask that? I'll hand Jiaying over to you. She's no longer of any use to me." Salomon took a bite of the food Coulson had offered, utterly unconcerned about anything the agents might have done to it.

"All right. I heard Captain America came to see you?"

"I didn't do this because someone persuaded me, Agent Coulson. It is simply because Jiaying has lost her intelligence value, and because what little compassion I possess is still at work." The Arcanist smiled. "Perhaps you should have Skye sit beside me too, so she can hear my reasons properly. I am not a cruel man, so I will give her an explanation. Don't worry. She