Symbiotic Agent

After pondering deeply for a long time, Grant Ward concluded that the only entity possibly monitoring him was S.H.I.E.L.D. Hydra had no reason to do so, nor would they employ such methods. If Hydra had made a move, there wouldn't be anyone monitoring him discreetly—an assassin would have already come for him before he even realized it.

Even though Ward was fairly certain that S.H.I.E.L.D. was behind the surveillance, he still couldn't understand why they were monitoring him or what mistake he had made to provoke this action. These questions lingered in his mind as he drove home from work, maintaining an air of calm as if nothing was amiss.

In his rearview mirror, he noticed a nondescript sedan following him from a distance.

Ward's instincts told him the people monitoring him were highly skilled. If he hadn't been an experienced and perceptive double agent, he might never have realized their presence. To avoid raising suspicion, Ward pretended to remain oblivious, adhering to his daily routine.

The agents tailing him also kept their distance, ensuring they didn't attract unnecessary attention. Their subtle approach seemed designed to quietly observe and gather information.

Before long, Ward reached the building where he rented an apartment. He parked his car in the usual spot, twirling his key on his finger while humming a tune, then walked up to the third floor. His footsteps echoed in the stairwell, a stark reminder of the silence around him.

As he approached his front door, his peripheral vision caught sight of the apartment opposite his. The unit was supposed to be unoccupied, with its layout mirroring his own, save for the windows facing west instead of east.

Normally, sunlight would stream through the peephole of that apartment's door, casting a faint glow. But today, no light was visible at all. The realization struck Ward like a thunderclap—someone was inside, blocking the peephole while observing him.

Despite the unease growing in his chest, Ward betrayed no outward reaction. He unlocked his door and stepped inside with a casual demeanor, making sure to inspect the subtle markers he'd left on the lock. To his relief, the marks were intact, confirming that no one had tampered with his door.

The curtains inside his apartment remained tightly drawn, just as he had left them. The absence of natural light cloaked the room in shadow until he switched on the lights, illuminating the space.

Knowing someone was watching from the opposite apartment with binoculars was enough to set his nerves on edge. However, Ward allowed himself a moment of respite in the privacy of his home to strategize. He sat on the sofa, frowning as he considered the situation.

Why was he under surveillance? What mistake had he made? Where had he slipped up?

These questions swirled in his mind as he contemplated his next move.

If he couldn't preserve his cover within S.H.I.E.L.D., he would have no choice but to abandon the operation and return to Hydra full-time. Ward wasn't just an undercover agent; his skills and experience ensured he could thrive in other roles within Hydra.

Still, abandoning his dual role would mean the collapse of his carefully laid plans. He had ambitions far beyond his current position, and failure wasn't an option.

As Ward deliberated, a sudden noise from the bathroom shattered his train of thought. The sound of a toilet flushing broke the silence, sending a jolt through his body. Instantly, he leaped to his feet, drawing his pistol and aiming it at the closed bathroom door.

The flush subsided, but Ward's heartbeat thundered in his chest.

How could someone be inside? He had checked every marker, and none had been disturbed. The door hadn't been breached—he was certain of it.

"Three seconds," Ward called out, his voice steely and unwavering. "If you don't open the door, I'll shoot. Believe me, my bullet will reach you faster than you can react."

Behind the frosted glass, a silhouette shifted.

"There's only one second left!" Ward barked, tightening his grip on the gun.

"Wait, wait! Wasn't it three seconds? Why are you skipping ahead?" A familiar voice replied as the door creaked open.

Holm emerged from the bathroom, shaking water off his hands and wearing a sheepish grin.

"You?!" Ward's eyes narrowed. His pistol remained trained on Holm. "What the hell are you doing in my apartment? I need a damn good explanation."

Seeing Holm's behavior so starkly different from before, Grant Ward felt the situation was undeniably bizarre and unsettling.

In all his years in the field, he had never encountered such a perplexing scenario.

Holm, standing confidently despite Grant's raised gun, seemed completely unfazed. Instead, his smile grew brighter as he observed Ward's confusion.

"Hahaha, you should see how ridiculous you look right now," Holm chuckled, leaning casually against the wall. "You're obviously confused and probably scared, yet you keep up this annoying act of bravado. Honestly, I've had enough of your disgusting attitude."

Holm's sarcastic tone and mocking expression left Ward momentarily stunned. His first reaction wasn't anger but disbelief. Was this really the same Holm he had known?

As Holm's self-proclaimed "instructor" and "guide," Ward prided himself on knowing his student better than anyone. Holm, in his eyes, had always been a coward—timid and easily intimidated. Ward had deliberately used harsh methods to cement his dominance, ensuring Holm would never dare defy him.

He had trained Holm to instinctively cower before him, to the point of triggering a physical reaction. And yet, here was Holm, standing tall, mocking him, and utterly unafraid.

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Try my other fic as well: Eros in Fairytail.