Constantine naturally knew that time was running out. After pushing Daisy Johnson off the assault transport boat, he hurried away.
He believed that with Wanda Maximoff and Robbie Reyes on the scene, a simple rescue mission like freeing Elias Morrow would be absolutely foolproof. However, reality turned out to be even worse than he imagined—while Wanda Maximoff and Robbie Reyes did indeed find the E-block cell where Elias Morrow was being held, they passed through a prisoner corridor opened by Lucy, and there Robbie Reyes spotted a very particular inmate. Unlike the others, this inmate wasn't making a ruckus in the open corridor or attempting to break out and attack the guards; instead, he stayed in his cell reading a book. His uncharacteristic quietness caught Robbie's attention while he was on guard against possible attacks.
Robbie recognized the tattoos on the prisoner and knew exactly why he hadn't tried to escape like the rest. The tattoo belonged to the Fifth Street Gang, a small Los Angeles street gang that was not only responsible for Gabe Reyes's disability but was also the original driving force behind Robbie Reyes becoming the Ghost Rider—all members of the gang outside prison had been killed by him. Daisy Johnson had first met him at the scene of one of his hunts. Now, this man in prison was the only survivor; since every gang member outside was dead, he had no reason to try to leave.
"I have something else to take care of," he told Wanda and Elias Morrow. "I'll be right back, I promise."
"We'll wait for you on Zephyr One," Wanda Maximoff couldn't be bothered to question Robbie Reyes's odd behavior; her mind was focused entirely on completing the mission. But when she and Elias Morrow reached the prison gates to rendezvous with Agent Coulson and Agent Melinda May, they discovered that the giant plane Zephyr One, which had been parked there, was now gone—replaced by police cars surrounding the gate.
"Mike…" Agent Coulson called Zephyr One through his earpiece.
"Got a fix on your location, lowering the containment pod now." Mike didn't sound too happy either. He hadn't expected the LAPD to arrive so quickly; if Zephyr One remained on the ground, the few defenders aboard wouldn't be able to hold off the police and SWAT. So, maintaining the plane's air superiority and evacuating them with the bulletproof containment pod was the optimal choice. "Next time we should bring a tactical team, otherwise we'll always be forced back to three thousand feet," Mike grumbled. "Let me know when you're ready—Daisy's here, she'll come down with the pod as backup."
Right now Daisy's face was pale, her forehead beaded with sweat, yet she insisted that Mike send her down.
"No need," Wanda Maximoff said.
She rotated her fingers and softly chanted words unintelligible to others. The police aiming their guns at them suddenly found their weapons becoming lighter—handguns turned into frogs or hens, rifles into fish or kittens. The standoff scene instantly descended into chaos, with animals squawking, flopping, and meowing everywhere. Some quick-thinking officers, spotting the moving S.H.I.E.L.D. agents, rushed forward wielding tasers and pepper spray instead.
"Nothing lethal, Wanda," Coulson told the witch. "I know you can do that."
"What is this?" Elias Morrow seemed startled by Wanda's display, but no one had time to answer. Wanda frowned, stretched out her fingers, and instantly a vast patch of asphalt sludge covered the street. The hydrocarbon mire was sticky and slick, yanking the shoes right off many running officers before they toppled onto the thin, pungent, room-temperature tar—fortunately, the stickiness was not too strong, so no one risked suffocation. The problem was that the modified spell was so greasy that no officer could stand up, even clawing at the ground.
At that moment, Zephyr One's containment pod slowly descended, landing not far from Wanda's group. Daisy Johnson hurried out.
"Good to see you again, Daisy," Coulson patted her shoulder lightly. "Welcome home."
"I haven't agreed to anything yet!"
"Come on, I know you," Coulson smiled. "Don't tell me you don't miss Simmons's afternoon tea—she's the only Brit among us."
"Hey! We're still here!" A lucky SWAT officer stood on a patrol car waving, a plump white hen squatting at his feet—his gun. Even after the chaos, he still clutched his "weapon." "Who the hell are you people? What the hell was that, magic?"
"We're with the government!" Coulson asked Wanda quietly, then raised his voice to answer. "You'll be able to stand and leave in twenty minutes. Sorry, I don't know if you'll need a change of clothes afterward!"
"Fine, I'll just sit here," the officer sounded resigned. "Next time you run an op, could you tell us first? You know police are busy, right?"
"Mind reading—you can already perform the spell instinctively, but since you don't know how to stabilize it, you can only glimpse scattered fragments." Long before she left the castle, her teacher had been instructing her on how to stabilize her gift. She had studied diligently, unwilling to miss a single word, even if delicious bacon was growing cold and hard enough to use as a knife.
"In truth, what you've touched are merely the impurities floating on the surface layer of thought—a flash of the id, the foam of unshaped ideas. Once the id is processed by the superego, it becomes the ego, which is the stable surface layer of thought. Though the metaphor is imperfect, think of the superego as the foam atop a beer that always dissipates, the id as the body of the beer, and the ego as the surface of liquid your lips touch. Skim away the foam, see the id and the ego clearly, see the person's true thoughts—that is the true use of mind reading. The strongest mind readers are also the strongest spies; no one in the world can hide any secret from you."
Wanda Maximoff had always done exactly that.
She would carefully extend the tendrils of her mind to brush that layer of thought; most people only felt a feathery tickle in their mind, noticing nothing. Even a light, momentary contact was enough for her to judge.
Robbie Reyes stumbled out of the prison, reeking of charred flesh, his leather jacket smoking, embers smoldering in his eyes. Anyone could see what he had been doing. Wanda took one look at him from afar and made her decision.
According to the mission report from Constantine, Wanda Maximoff's task was never meant to end with witty banter. The last footage recorded by her bodycam matched the report. When everyone else relaxed, ready to wait for Robbie Reyes and then leave together via the containment pod, Wanda did the unexpected—she suddenly shoved Elias Morrow into the pod and sealed it, then cast a spell that destroyed all four of its thrusters. Everyone was stunned; she gave no explanation before acting.
Both Agent Coulson and Daisy Johnson immediately put distance between themselves and Wanda Maximoff.
"You've read the Darkhold, haven't you?" she demanded at Elias Morrow through the bulletproof glass. "Tell me—how did Lucy Bauer really die? Robbie Reyes, stay where you are. You can't beat me. Elias Morrow, tell me—what did you see in the Darkhold?"
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