Constantine had no interest in Daisy Johnson's stammering explanations, nor in the emotional shift of Jemma Simmons—from reproach to pity, ending in sobbing with her head in her hands. But he still needed complete information about everything stored in this warehouse. Only then could he determine whether S.H.I.E.L.D. was hiding anything it shouldn't be. Daisy Johnson had done well in completing the mission. Although the Praetorian Guard had no desire to know the details, she had successfully obtained the necessary access permissions.
Nick Fury tensed up for a few seconds after learning of the matter, until Constantine bluntly told him that most of the "dangerous items" stored by S.H.I.E.L.D. weren't all that dangerous and weren't even worthy of containment by the Eternal City. But as a matter of protocol, he had to conduct a full sweep to avoid a repeat of last time—an alien parasite incident that had required deploying a strike transport to drop a nuclear bomb. Constantine's definition of danger was anything that couldn't be resolved with guns and tanks. When he explained the Eternal City's standards for defining "danger," Nick Fury was so exasperated he laughed, wanting to curse but unable to find the words—because, compared to the threats contained by the Eternal City, the so-called "world-ending crises" S.H.I.E.L.D. had handled were hardly worth mentioning.
Once the intelligence division's cybersecurity team received access, they immediately began filtering and cross-checking. Constantine had no intention of informing Daisy Johnson and simply let her dig through whatever information she wanted. Her perspective was not wrong—he had never trusted her. He was, after all, a cold-blooded bastard.
Jemma Simmons returned to the S.H.I.E.L.D. base in a fury.
She was due for her routine lie detector test today, but the number of secrets she was hiding had grown too large. She wasn't even sure she could fool the facial analysis software anymore. Daisy Johnson, Robbie Reyes, Dr. Radcliffe, and Fitz's AI, Aida—Jemma Simmons was so mentally overwhelmed she couldn't even bring herself to greet Fitz and instead threw herself into the lab, trying to stabilize her emotions. Setting aside what might happen if she got caught lying—ever since S.H.I.E.L.D. returned to a more structured operation, every agent had a metaphorical dagger named "unemployment" hanging over their back, ready to strike at any moment. Jemma Simmons felt like that sharp blade had already pierced through her clothes, its cold edge separated from her skin by nothing but a shirt.
Fitz clearly had no idea what Jemma was going through. In his mind, the word "unemployment"—and everything associated with it—simply didn't exist. But for Jemma Simmons, unemployment meant total collapse. It meant being unable to pay rent, unable to buy a home or car, and certainly unable to afford all the expenses that came with marriage. "Don't be like this. How many times do I have to say it…" Fitz said through gritted teeth. "It's just because of the lie detector."
"This has nothing to do with the lie detector!"
"Then what am I supposed to do?!"
"We were supposed to share everything!" Jemma Simmons shut the conversation down without hesitation. "We sleep in the same bed, but all this time, you've been hiding things from me."
"Don't be like that. I wanted to tell you." Fitz's face immediately filled with guilt. "I know, you think she's amazing…"
"It. It's amazing," Jemma Simmons said seriously. "But it's about to get me fired! If my eyes shift even a little to the left, I'm done. Unlike some people, I'm not good at keeping secrets."
"So… this really is because of the lie detector?"
Jemma Simmons glared like an enraged lioness, and Fitz immediately surrendered by shutting up. He suddenly remembered an old truth that had stood the test of time: Never try to reason with a woman—because you'll never win. "I can stay and help you practice. We can hide coins in our shoes or thumbtacks under our tongues," he offered. "Right now, you're not even glancing left."
Jemma Simmons took a deep breath and tried to suppress her rage. If there were a non-lethal weapon within reach, she would've fired it at Fitz on the spot. A lethal one would've worked too—she wouldn't have minded. "Forget it. Just go. Coulson needs you more. They still need you to deliver the antidote." She let out a long sigh. "I'll figure something out. I promise I won't get fired today."
Leopold Fitz left, feeling content. But Jemma Simmons's face remained pale. If they discovered she was lying, S.H.I.E.L.D. wouldn't just fire her—they'd throw her straight into prison. The U.S. had plenty of overseas detention centers, and now that S.H.I.E.L.D. operated under Congressional authority, they had the right to use several of them. No one would ever find her. She could very well be locked in a cell beneath the deck of an offshore prison ship. S.H.I.E.L.D. had used such methods before. Jemma had seen those cases during her time at the S.H.I.E.L.D. Academy.
Now it seemed that S.H.I.E.L.D.'s return to the public eye hadn't been good for anyone.
"Wanda Maximoff, this is Praetorian Constantine."
"Copy that. We're en route to South Ridge Prison." Wanda craned her neck, trying to see through the traffic ahead. "We've run into a bit of a problem. There's been an accident on Highway 10—everything's jammed. Robbie's trying to find a detour to the prison. Will we make it in time?"
"Maybe, if you hurry." Constantine pulled down another dust-covered crate from the shelf and casually twisted off the lock by hand. "S.H.I.E.L.D. has already sent people to South Ridge Prison. Intel believes they intend to extract Elias Morrow. Zephyr One is en route to Los Angeles. If you don't move quickly, they'll definitely get to him first. Daisy Johnson said something she shouldn't have. She thought turning off the comms meant I couldn't hear her… so now Jemma Simmons knows things—about Lucy Bauer, among other things. Let's assume Agent Coulson dug up some old files on the Darkhold… Elias Morrow must've seen what that book looks like."
"Shit! You think they're gonna stir up trouble?"
"Handle it quickly."
"Where the hell are you, Constantine? Weren't we supposed to do this mission together?"
"Exactly. So move faster. I still need to wrap up the finer details of this operation. I'm here to fix all the mistakes you made. You're welcome—it's my job." Constantine's tone was flat as a dead fish. "Intel suggests a terrorist group has infiltrated Los Angeles. I don't want you getting distracted. That's an internal racial conflict in American society. It doesn't require intervention from the Eternal City, understood?"
Robbie Reyes turned and saw Wanda's expression growing increasingly grim.
"What's wrong?" he asked. "Something new come up?"
"Yes, but it probably doesn't concern us. Apparently, some anti-Inhuman terrorist group is roaming around L.A. Constantine told me not to waste time and to leave it to the police." The witch ran her fingers through her hair. "S.H.I.E.L.D.'s heading to South Ridge Prison too. We've got to pick up the pace."
"That big guy might be rough around the edges, but I think he's right." Robbie Reyes nodded. He didn't give a damn about some anti-Inhuman terrorist organization. The White House had published plenty of lists: Black leftist group Antifa, white right-wing group Proud Boys, and more. All it took was local police showing up and these so-called terrorists would surrender without a fight. They didn't even dare fire a shot, fearing the SWAT team would rain hellfire on them. "Buckle up. This ride's gonna be bumpy," he said. "We'll get to South Ridge before S.H.I.E.L.D. does. Honestly, I kinda regret not taking your advice. Do your people still have agents stationed there?"
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