"You're late," she said. "I've been waiting for that dinner."
"No problem," James said, shifting the car to drive. "But I'm homeless tonight. Hope someone's got a bed to spare. So where to?"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The parking garage beneath S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters felt like a maze. There were no signs, no maps, nothing to make navigation easy. That was deliberate. A building that held the heart of the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division didn't make itself accessible. If an intruder ever managed to breach the outer perimeter, the last thing they'd get was a guided tour.
James followed Maria Hill, committing every turn, every elevator, and every stairwell to memory. [Cortana] mapped it all, storing the routes in layers. Some areas blinked red on the overlay — locked behind clearance James didn't yet have. The most tempting of those was the vast underground facility. According to every file James had pieced together, that was where the first helicarrier was being built.
The same craft that, in another timeline, would rise during the Battle of New York. The same class of ships Hydra later used to nearly wipe out Washington.
James adjusted his pace, eyes taking in the cavernous spaces around him. His presence here would change something — the question was how. He couldn't uproot Hydra overnight, but if he could cut down their core at headquarters, the rest would fracture. The problem was their depth. Hydra wasn't a group with a shelf life. They had roots that stretched back centuries. A secret fraternity passed down like a disease.
By the time the tour ended, James had undergone the standard identity registration. Voice print, fingerprints, retina, gait recognition. Headquarters security was tighter than anything he'd seen in New York. Elevators required voice confirmation, corridors locked and unlocked depending on who you walked with.
He muttered under his breath, "It's complicated. Way more locked down than New York." His eyes flicked once toward Maria Hill's back, admiring the way she moved with casual authority. At least his guide wasn't Coulson. That would've been less interesting.
Hill glanced back at him. "This is headquarters. Everything is strict. Though, you got a smoother entry because of your identity."
James cocked a brow. "Identity?"
She smiled thinly. "How much would it take to buy you out? How many zeroes?"
The point landed. James understood instantly. If anyone ever tried to flip him, the price would be astronomical. If they wanted to pressure him, the cost in lives would be worse. With Carlos, Hannah, Mindy, and Anny back home, it would take an army to even try.
By the end of the day, James was exhausted from endless clearances and bureaucratic hurdles. But there was one more stop: the Director's office. Maria led him to the top floor, where Nick Fury waited.
"James, glad you made it." Fury rose from behind his desk. "What do you think of S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters?"
"Impressive," James admitted, settling into an armchair. Maria took the seat opposite. Fury poured him a Coke, sliding it across the desk. "Bigger than New York. But what exactly am I supposed to do here?"
Fury leaned back. "This time, I want you to help design a program."
James frowned. "A program? You brought me here for software?"
Fury nodded. "We've got a weapon close to completion. The hardware's ready. But the program's incomplete. I want you on it."
James gave a short laugh. "Why me? I'm not a technician. And even if I were, you couldn't afford me. You can barely afford Stark, and he works for free because he's bored."
Fury's face stayed impassive. "We know. But you're still the one I'm asking."
James sighed. "Fine. Tell me the details. If it's worth my time, I'll look at it."
[Cortana: Likely the helicarrier. If confirmed, we could use access to obtain high-density alloys. Potential to construct heavier melee weapons. Spinning axes, for example.]
James didn't react outwardly, but his decision solidified. If it was the helicarrier, he'd cooperate. Not because of Fury's request, but because the technology involved would give [Cortana] the chance to learn, adapt, and copy.
Fury stood. "Come with me. I'll show you."
They rode the elevator down, with Fury's clearance unlocking levels James hadn't even glimpsed earlier. When the doors opened, James was momentarily struck silent.
The cavern stretched like a hangar carved into the earth. Suspended lights cast harsh white beams across scaffolding and machinery. And there, in the center, a massive shape dominated the chamber.
The helicarrier.
Open wings stretched out over the platform, paint crews finishing the last layers across its steel-gray hide. Engines loomed at the flanks like slumbering giants. Entire platoons of workers scurried across scaffolds, sparks flying where welders sealed final joints. The only thing James could think of topping it was a Sword-class Frigate from Warhammer if it were actually real and in this universe.
James gripped the railing, staring. "So it's real."
Fury followed his gaze. "This is it. S.H.I.E.L.D.'s space carrier. Flying aircraft carrier. One of a kind. Even the U.S. military doesn't have tech like this."
James didn't answer immediately. Standing in front of it, he finally felt the scale that no file, no movie, no rumor had captured. This was power incarnate — a weapon disguised as infrastructure.
And now, Fury wanted him to help write its brain.