Marvel Template System:Spectrum

Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement, and Logistics Division 

Abbreviated as S.H.I.E.L.D.

A top-secret military government organization responsible for global security, preventing threats to world order, and protecting humanity from supernatural, technological, and extraterrestrial dangers. 

It possesses incredible material and human resources. It has excessive—according to many uninvolved politicians and government officials—authority and capabilities. 

And it answers only to the World Security Council. 

All of this sounds incredibly unbelievable, but Nicholas Fury would confidently say that in reality, it's even more extraordinary. 

After all, Nicholas Fury, a dark-skinned man in his forties with an eye patch, was the director of this incredible organization. Its command center, its heart, its... commander, so to speak. 

But hearing all this, many uninitiated would still have one question: 

"Nicholas... What do you actually do?" 

And Nicholas would confidently reply: 

"Whatever is necessary." 

The legal system is not perfect. It couldn't be perfect. 

Some incidents were so vague in their "foundation" that it wasn't uncommon for several legal organizations to struggle to decide who would handle the case. In most cases, such dilemmas were resolved by the "higher-ups." 

But sometimes... 

Sometimes the cases were so extraordinary and unconventional that even generals, secretaries of state, and heads of top intelligence agencies were left scratching their heads. 

And in such moments, Nicholas would step in. He'd hand out lollipops to everyone present, ask them to wait in the hallway for their parents, and then roll up his sleeves and get to work. 

But often, the "complexity" or "extraordinariness" of a case wasn't easy to assess at first glance. 

So... 

The current case didn't fall into that category. 

- Six hundred dollars, - Phil Coulson pursed his lips in dissatisfaction, rummaging through his empty wallet as if it would magically refill itself. - Gone in an instant... 

- Don't worry, Phil, - Maria, working at her computer, tried to comfort him. - We've already hacked into Jessica Jones' phone, her internal network, and all her social media accounts. She won't even be able to post a selfie without us knowing. And if we're lucky, we might be able to write off your money as "operational expenses"... 

- I think... - As soon as Nick spoke, the entire room fell silent. - You're wasting resources in the wrong direction. Maria, have we reconstructed the timeline of events? 

Maria Hill, one of the senior officers and a liaison between operational teams, as well as the unofficial secretary to Director Fury, instantly switched to work mode. Her slender fingers flew across the keyboard at an almost inhuman speed. And yes, if you're a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, even your "clerical" skills must be top-notch. What can you do? High salary, high expectations. 

- Due to the low density of cameras in this area... 

- This is northern Manhattan, - Phil frowned. - How can there be a "low density of cameras"? 

- It's Harlem, - Nicholas cut in sharply. - The cameras either aren't maintained or are stripped for parts, and it's a vicious cycle. Maria, continue. 

- So, due to the low density of cameras, it's difficult to track the presumed start of Christopher Wallace's "rampage," but the investigation has determined that it began with a clash between a local Irish gang and a small-time entrepreneur, also of Irish descent, by the way. It all led to the gang arriving at his store last night around 3 a.m. and cracking the safe containing all the documents. 

- Did they manage to pressure him into "voluntarily" handing over the store? 

- We assume so, - Maria nodded. - Some documents were damaged during the shootout, but we'll resolve that issue soon. 

- And after that... - Phil pursed his lips again. - They killed the "former" owner... 

- Correct, - Maria nodded. - After interrogating the few surviving gang members, it became clear that Christopher Wallace arrived at the scene on his own. He was escorted inside, and then... 

Searching for the necessary files on her computer, Maria pulled up footage from the surveillance cameras. At least the ones that caught Chris's exploits. 

Phil whistled in awe as he saw the half-naked young man bouncing off the walls. 

- All the analysts' data on Christopher's approximate abilities have been sent to your phone, Mr. Fury. 

Nick barely glanced at the data. He already knew what he needed for now and would examine the details later. 

- Did you get everything you needed from the surviving members of the Irish mob? 

- We assume, - Maria answered less confidently for the first time that day. - They've all developed psychological disorders. 

- Does Christopher have some kind of mind-control ability? - Phil frowned again. 

- Not exactly, - Nicholas smirked. - That's what happens when you witness a fast, bulletproof, and merciless killing machine in action. They just shit their pants. 

- But we'll make a note of it, - Phil stated rather than asked. 

- Naturally, - Nicholas shrugged. - I can guess what happened next. Did you catch the gang leader, the RPG guy? 

- Vanished into thin air, - Maria pursed her lips. - We're still looking. 

- Strange... 

This particular detail struck Nicholas as oddly suspicious. Of course, a criminal of this caliber would have emergency escape routes, but... 

This is S.H.I.E.L.D. we're talking about. 

- Keep looking. Don't let him slip away. He could be a bargaining chip in negotiations with Christopher... 

- What's the strategy, Mr. Fury? - His right-hand man, Phil, was always ready to follow his orders. 

- It seems the subject is unwilling to make contact, - Nicholas sighed. - But that was expected... 

- Do the ghetto residents really have such strong antagonism toward law enforcement? 

- It's in their blood, - Nicholas snorted. - Do you think cops in those areas overstep their authority? Do they shoot more often than in "whiter" neighborhoods? Is there a war between the "poor" neighborhoods and the police? 

Phil shrugged uncertainly. 

- It depends on the specific areas. And often, high-profile cases create the illusion of overreach... 

- Answer not as a government employee, but just share your thoughts. 

A direct order from his immediate superior and ultimate authority immediately loosened Phil's tongue. 

- Yes, - Phil sighed. - Cops often overstep their authority in those areas. 

- And do you know why that happens? 

- Because cops don't want to die, - Phil answered more confidently. - They'd rather overstep their authority than let some random junkie shoot them... 

- The Second Amendment, the Bill of Rights, the right to bear arms, - Nicholas sighed. - Because of it, the percentage of civilian gun ownership is absurdly high, especially in the leading country of the world. We have a situation where any cop has an incredibly high chance of encountering an armed civilian. Guns want to be used. In the ghetto, cops are hated, and cops hate the ghetto. That's how we've arrived at a level of antagonism that can't be resolved by ordinary means. Rest assured, in ten years, it'll change a little. As long as there's a high chance that any bum on the street has a gun, cops won't stop shooting preemptively. Everyone wants to live. 

- And Christopher?... 

- Like it or not, you absorb the customs and traditions of the places where you grow up, - Nicholas snorted. - Especially since we can't give a clear prediction of his character... 

- But we've already interrogated the doctors who treated Christopher, right? - Phil saw Maria nod. - And, if I'm not mistaken, we've tracked Jessica Jones' recent actions. We even found remnants of her medical records... 

- Not just found, - Maria smirked. - We managed to recover seventy percent. 

- What? - Phil was surprised. - But Jones burned them, didn't she? 

- Don't forget where you work, Phil, - Nicholas showed Phil the computer models of the "burned" pages. - Ash analysis, ultraviolet and infrared photography, chemical analysis, pressure visualization from writing, fingerprinting... S.H.I.E.L.D. can recover records even from ashes. 

Actually, that was a bit of an exaggeration. The remnants of the medical records just didn't burn completely, so the specialists were able to recover a whopping seventy percent. The rest would be filled in by the treating doctors. 

- But what's the prognosis? 

- Nothing, - Nicholas stated flatly. - Nothing noteworthy or useful. His entire history is based on psychological issues and a troubled childhood. That tells us nothing about his character. All I've seen on the cameras is impulsiveness, immaturity, a lack of self-control, and an inability to assess risks. It's too early to say anything. We need observation. 

- But?... - Phil, having worked with Nicholas for decades, immediately sensed a catch. 

- But he has potential, - Nicholas narrowed his one eye. - For now, we observe. - Turning to Maria, Nicholas moved on to the next matter. - What about Ross? 

- We couldn't throw him off the trail, - Maria shook her head. - He's already assembled a task force and is heading to Brazil. 

- Bruce Banner, - Nicholas muttered thoughtfully. - And Stark? 

- Still looking, - Maria sighed. - But the Ten Rings have gone quiet. They're not making any demands... 

Nicholas's gaze swept thoughtfully across the images on the screen. 

Terrifying. 

Extraordinary. 

But full of potential. Incredible potential. 

- Keep your ears open, - Nicholas finally gave the order. - Something... is happening. 

***** 

Luxurious apartment. 

Expensive wine. 

Gorgeous women. 

Everything in the surroundings screamed that the owner was accustomed to wealth. 

The expensive purple suit only emphasized the taste of the thin man in his thirties. 

The only thing that stood out in this setting was a group of men kneeling before the owner. 

- Mr. Kilgrave... 

If Chris were here, he would definitely recognize his escaped "enemy," the former leader of the now-defunct Irish gang. And it was surprising to see him so... submissive before this man in the purple suit. 

- No need for words, - Kilgrave chuckled. - You played your part. Go to the bay, tie some heavy weights to yourself, and drown. 

- Understood, - the gangster nodded calmly and left the hotel room. It seemed that even the suicidal order didn't shake his loyalty to the man. 

Satisfied, Kilgrave turned to the two other men. 

- Did you encounter any problems? 

- No, sir! - One of them replied briskly. - Plan "B" went off without a hitch! The target didn't suspect a thing! 

- Really? - Kilgrave was pleasantly surprised. - What, absolutely nothing? 

- I think he was about to cry from joy, - the other man laughed. - He devoured the "free samples"! Ate everything, didn't even leave crumbs! 

- And you, of course, added the "secret" ingredient? - Kilgrave smiled even wider. 

- Every tasteless poison we could get our hands on, - the man laughed. - Polonium, a bit of cyanide, ricin, tetrodotoxin, thallium, and ethylene glycol. Sir, honestly, I was worried he'd drop dead right there on the street! 

Kilgrave burst into self-satisfied laughter, standing up and walking to the window, which offered a view of New York's skyscrapers. 

- You shouldn't have gotten close to Jessica, Chris, - Kilgrave whispered. - Sure, you've thrown a few unpleasant surprises my way, but that's it. What will you do now? When your insides are burning and writhing in agony? You're strong, but even an elephant would die from that much poison... - Kilgrave narrowed his eyes with satisfaction. - Carelessness has consequences... 

***** 

- A-A-A-A!... 

- Chris! Chris, damn it, snap out of it!... 

- Jessica! - Chris screamed in an inhuman voice. - I'm dying, Jessica! 

- CHR-IS-IS! - Jessica shouted... 

... Standing outside the locked bathroom door, pounding impatiently. 

- Chris, damn it, I need to use the bathroom too! 

- I knew it couldn't be this good! - Chris groaned from the other side of the door. - It can't be this perfect! "Free hot dogs, new samples," ugh! They sold me a bunch of expired crap, those bastards! 

- How the hell did you manage that, huh? - Jessica grabbed her head. - You can walk into Subway and order a bullet sandwich! And then come home and, while solving crosswords, shit out a few stores! 

- I guess I'm not that good, Jessica! - Chris wheezed sadly. - Apparently, hot dogs are my kryptonite! Every superhero needs a weakness, and apparently expired food is mine! 

- Chris, I need to take a dump! - Jessica banged on the door harder. 

- And I need to not need to take a dump!... 

- Go to hell, Chris!... 

- YOU go to hell, Jessica!... 

Yeah... 

Carelessness has consequences.