By the Potomac River, the Triskelion.
Coulson had just rushed back from the Arctic glaciers, his face etched with travel-worn exhaustion. As Director Nick Fury's trusted assistant, he was indeed incredibly busy. Not long ago, he had dealt with Tony Stark's trouble, then his superior had sent him to the distant Arctic to complete a salvage mission. Now, he still had to wrap up the Fantastic Four incident, or he would surely receive an inquiry call from the White House tomorrow.
The honest, dependable middle-aged man strode into S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters, greeting several familiar colleagues along the way. He was well-liked in every department. Taking a private elevator all the way up and passing through several layers of security verification, Coulson finally met the Black director who had been waiting for some time.
Nick Fury wore a black trench coat and stood quietly before the window. He had participated in and passed all the training programs of the Green Berets and Black Berets special forces. He was a top-tier soldier with extensive experience and military knowledge. Later, he joined the CIA, served as the highest commander of multiple intelligence agencies, and became a strategic expert deeply trusted by the White House.
Thanks to his astonishing résumé and leadership abilities, Nick Fury became commander of the S.S.R., developing the secret agent organization into something much larger. After gaining the World Security Council's support, he renamed it S.H.I.E.L.D., transforming it from an organization resembling an official military operations and intelligence agency into a special department with wide-ranging functions.
"Phil, you've worked hard." Nick Fury came back to himself and, unusually, expressed some concern for his subordinate. "How did the trouble with the Fantastic Four turn out?"
S.H.I.E.L.D. had noticed the Fantastic Four's extraordinary abilities as early as the Brooklyn Bridge incident and had