As the oversight body for S.H.I.E.L.D.., the World Security Council also has its United States. offices in the Triskelion.
Late at night, in the minister's office.
While resting with his eyes closed, Alexander Pierce pondered future development plans.
Thump, thump, thump.
"Come in."
Pierce rubbed his temples, his eyes still closed. " Sitwell, if those lunatics have blown up somewhere again, don't report to me, just send Rumlow directly..."
" Rumlow can't come."
A familiar voice interrupted him.
Pierce's fingers froze, and he opened his eyes to see the black figure standing in the doorway.
Nick Fury was still wearing that black leather trench coat, and he was holding an unsealed manila envelope in his hand.
" Fury."
Pierce stood up, his face displaying just the right amount of surprise and concern, like a kind elder seeing a junior visiting late at night.
"Why did you suddenly come here? You didn't even tell me beforehand."
He walked around the desk to the liquor cabinet, his back to Fury: "What would you like to drink? Coffee? Or some whiskey? I know you've been under a lot of pressure lately. Those lunatics at Shocker have really messed things up. I'll handle things with the council..."
A soft "snap" interrupted his performance.
The file folder was thrown onto the table, slid a short distance, and came to a stop right where Pierce had been sitting.
"No need to pretend, Pierce."
Fury pulled out a chair and sat down, his movements relaxed, just as he had done countless times before when he came here to report on his work.
"Open it and take a look. There might be something inside that interests you, and it might even help you recall some... glorious years."
Pierce paused for half a second while pouring the wine, then turned around nonchalantly, holding the two glasses of amber liquid.
He pushed one of the glasses toward Fury, a warm and inviting smile on his face.
"You're always so serious, Fury."
Pierce put down his glass, picked up the file folder, and pulled out its contents.
The first document is a photocopy of a bank statement.
It was an encrypted account at a Zurich Switzerland, with a string of gibberish as the payee's name, but the source of the funds was a special grant from S.H.I.E.L.D..'s " Project Insight ".
The second image shows the transfer records from that account to the predecessor of the Shocker.
Pierce's expression didn't change until he saw the third one.
It was an old black and white photograph, the edges of which had yellowed.
The photo is set in Berlin during World War II, with the young Pierce standing on the edge of a group of Hydra officers.
Back then, he didn't have the cunning he has now; his eyes burned with an almost fanatical faith as he gave a Nazis salute to the camera.
Pierce fell silent.
He put down the photo, and his shrewd eyes, which always held a sharp edge, looked at Fury, devoid of any feigned warmth.
When did you find out?
Fury didn't touch the glass of wine, his eyes fixed on his former mentor and comrade-in-arms.
"Does it matter? Pierce, you're too hasty, too eager to pin all the blame on that madman named Schmidt, even at the cost of using the Council's reserve funds to fill Hydra's hole."
Pierce clapped twice.
"Brilliant." He exclaimed sincerely, even with a hint of pride. " Fury, you are my most outstanding student and my most perfect creation. I've always known that only you can hold this position as director. Your intuition is sharper than that of a top-class hunting dog."
That's why I feel disgusted.
Fury looked at him.
" S.H.I.E.L.D..'s motto is to protect the world, but you've raised a swarm of maggots called Hydra in its foundations."
That's order!
"Look out the window, Fury! Those savage monsters like Shocker are the real chaos! Hydra provides humanity with guidance, control, and necessary sacrifices! Without us manipulating the situation from the shadows, this world would have been destroyed ten times over by nuclear war!"
"That's your order, not human's."
Fury drew his Glock pistol from under his arm, the dark muzzle pointing at his former mentor.
"I don't like being treated like pigs, and I don't like my agents dying for your ambitions."
"You think you can kill me?" Pierce sneered. " Rumlow is downstairs, as long as I—"
" Rumlow inhaled an excessive amount of nerve gas in the elevator and should be foaming at the mouth by now."
Fury interrupted him.
"The entire building is under ' Icarus ' Protocol. Everyone on the Hydra list will disappear tonight. No one will come to save you, Pierce."
Pierce's expression shifted between anger and uncertainty.
You ungrateful wretch!
Before he could finish speaking, Pierce overturned the desk.
The documents, the computer, the untouched glass of whiskey, and the tabletop were all smashed down on Fury.
Fury fired two shots.
Using the table as cover, Pierce suddenly produced a sharp letter opener, an antique crafted from some rare metal.
The hilt of the knife is inlaid with gemstones; it was a birthday gift Fury gave him ten years ago.
How ironic.
The two collided.
Fury kicked Pierce in the stomach, but the old man held on, and the letter opener gleamed coldly as it slashed toward Fury's throat.
Fury tilted his head, trying to dodge the fatal blow.
But he underestimated Pierce's determination and strength. In the struggle, the Blade deviated from his throat but still managed to slice through his left eye.
"Ugh!"
Blood blurred my vision.
His right eyeball was slashed open by a sharp blade, and warm liquid flowed down his cheek.
"This is the price, Fury!" Pierce's face was covered in blood from hitting the corner of the table, and he frantically wanted to finish him off. "Seeing the truth comes at a price!"
Fury showed no fear; he had underestimated his opponent. It seems that old man Pierce hasn't been neglecting his training.
But he is getting old after all.
With his left hand grabbing Pierce's wrist as he held the knife, Fury slammed his right fist into Pierce's Adam's apple.
"Click."
Pierce dropped the letter opener and clutched his throat, his hands covering his throat as his face quickly turned purplish-red.
Fury kicked away the bloodstained murder weapon and pinned Pierce against the window with one hand.
"You're right, this is the price."
Fury's right eye was completely closed; he stared at Pierce, "But I can afford it."
Bang!
The final shot rang out.
The bullet pierced Pierce's forehead, causing a burst of blood to erupt from the back of his head.
This Hydra leader, who dominated the world for half a century and manipulated it at will, died just like that.
A deathly silence returned to the office.
Outside the window, the thunderstorm continued.
Fury leaned against the wall, panting heavily.
He took a handkerchief out of his pocket and covered his still-bleeding right eye socket.
The pain didn't make him lose his mind; instead, it made him more clear-headed than ever before.
He used to feel like he had two eyes, one to see the light and the other to see the darkness.
He tried to find a balance between the two, trying to trust people like Pierce who operated in a gray area.
Now, he doesn't need it anymore.
From then on, he only had one eye left.
This eye will no longer be blinded by anyone, and will no longer trust any so-called "mentor" or "friend".
He will see the ugliness and reality of this world on his own.
Hill's slightly anxious voice came through the communicator. " Fury? The surveillance footage shows gunshots in the minister's office, what about you...?"
"It's over."