[Cortana: I'll draft parameters. Sandboxed. With no outbound connections.]
"Do it," James said. "Then I'll go ahead and replenish my energy for you to use."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
James put aside the idea of building a full AI perimeter system for now. It was premature, and he knew rushing into it would cause more problems than it solved. Hydra had already forced him into two ambushes in New York. That was enough proof that they had surveillance avenues he couldn't track yet. Until he figured out how to counter technological monitoring, there was no sense of wasting brainpower on theoreticals.
For the next week, James settled into a routine. He wakes up to groom and feed Anny who sleeps on his chest from time to time. Dropping Mindy off at school every morning, then reported to the New York Division. The office was running thin after the Hydra purge. One-third of the staff had been detained, and those left were trying to cover gaps. It wasn't really chaos, but every missing body left a shadow on the floor.
His desk work wasn't complicated. Intelligence collation, surveillance checks, and small tactical reviews. Nothing compared to firefights in parking garages, but Nick Fury had been clear — the division had to appear normal. Hydra couldn't know they'd been hit, not yet. That meant James couldn't simply hand over everything [Cortana] had extracted from the Hydra agents. Instead, he staged the releases — data in portions, layered so Coulson could pass it upward without sending shockwaves.
A week later, James finally submitted the full set of Hydra dossiers. It was exhaustive work: identities, contacts, financial links, backdoor channels into police precincts, and even coded references to weapons testing. His official job was done, but the director had ordered him to stay stationed with the New York Division. With manpower this thin, appearances mattered.
S.H.I.E.L.D. didn't have global crises to throw at him yet. No Chitauri, no Ultron, no Sokovia. Right now, the division's tempo was monitoring "strange events" worldwide and logging them for later. Some artifacts found in Africa, an energy reading in Eastern Europe, and whispers of something frozen under the ice. Nothing really urgent. The quiet before the storm as they say.
James leaned back in his office chair at the New York Division, half-focused on the paperwork spread across his desk. Hydra had been quiet for the past week, but he knew better than to assume silence meant safety. They were waiting, watching. Still, his mind wasn't on them tonight. Mindy's birthday was coming up. Her first one since joining the family.
The girl had adapted quickly—new school, new friends, but her spark remained the same. Brave, sharp, and restless. James knew she'd never be content with dolls or dresses. She'd want something that fit the other side of her life, the side they both hid. The hidden hero, the fighter in training. He was thinking of giving her a tool, not a toy. Something that will keep her safe, but also gives her pride.
"[Cortana]," James muttered, rubbing his temple. "If you were an eleven-year-old vigilante in hiding, what would make the perfect birthday gift?"
["Something that doubles as training equipment and battlefield utility. Compact, Concealed, and Durable. It must feed her hero persona without exposing it. I suggest a special baton—collapsible and multi-moded. We can base it on the Nexus System you've tested."]
James smirked. "A baton she can carry to school without raising eyebrows. Sports gear in public, but a weapon in the shadows."
["Precisely. I can adapt Stark's alloy weave to make it light yet unbreakable. For training, weighted resistance can be programmed. For combat, we can add electrified output. Non-lethal, but decisive."]
That decided it. Mindy would get her first Nexus System—scaled down, tailored to her hands. But she wouldn't be the only one.
His eyes slid toward the window, where Anny, the small black-and-white cat, was curled up on the sill. Mindy adored her. Wherever the girl went, the cat followed. If he was making something for Mindy, he'd damn well make something for Anny too. A sidekick deserved a uniform.
"Maybe a harness and mask," James muttered. "Tactical, but comfortable. Something that could carry a tracker, maybe light armor plates, while also not compromising the cat's natural hair sensory."
["And a small camera for recon. Anny could be her second set of eyes."]
James chuckled. "You're enjoying this."
["Merely optimizing asset synergy."]
He picked up the phone and dialed Stark. "Tony. I need a favor."
On the other end, the billionaire's voice came sharp and fast. "If this is about you stealing my paint finish again, the answer's no. I'm not doing matte black for every piece of gear you dream up."
James exhaled through his nose. "It's for Mindy. Birthday's coming up. I need a custom job—a small-scale Nexus System baton. Concealable, variable weight, with a non-lethal shock option."
A pause, then Tony's voice softened. "For the kid? Yeah, I'll help. Bring me the specs. But you're coming here, not remote-calling your way out of it. We'll run it through the R&D bay at Stark Tower."
"Fine. I'll bring the alloy requisition papers tomorrow."
"And James—" Tony hesitated, rare for him. "Good call. She deserves it. And the cat—don't think I didn't hear your little muttering. Tell me you're not seriously asking me to armor a feline."
James allowed himself a dry smile. "You'll design it anyway. Don't pretend you're not already sketching it in your head."
Tony sighed. "You're the worst. Alright. Bring measurements. If Hydra doesn't kill us first, I'll make your niece's cat a better sidekick than half the future Avengers."
James ended the call and leaned back again, it was nice to have a genius friend you can trust and share some stuff with, even letting him know the worries he has of Mindy's old background.
The plan was set. Tomorrow he'd head to Stark Tower, retrieve the alloys, and start work. But Hydra had a long reach, and he suspected they wouldn't let him move unchallenged. If they caught wind of him transporting Stark-grade materials, they'd strike.
He looked at the small family photo on his desk. Mindy's smile was wide, bright, and hopeful. Anny sat in her lap, ears perked up.
"This time," James murmured, "I'm giving her a gift they'll never take away."