CIA?
For some reason, an audacious and rather unrefined idea suddenly struck Nick Fury.
No one can vanish into thin air, and by the same token, no one can appear out of nowhere without leaving a single trace of their movements behind.
But... what if the Peerless Assassin was a CIA operative? Or perhaps, a former one?
If that were the case, it would explain a multitude of problems.
For example, why not a single trace of the Peerless Assassin had been found in two years.
Or why, despite knowing Agent 83 had entered the Star Tower, she simply could not be located.
Others might not have the capability to pull that off. But the CIA did.
CIA operatives were trained in the arts of concealment, assassination, and disposing of bodies without leaving a shred of evidence.
"Patch me through to Langley!"
The moment the thought took root, Nick Fury barked at Phil Coulson. "Have Langley provide a list of operatives from the last two years... no, make it the last decade. I want names of everyone who resigned, defected, or was declared dead."
Coulson was momentarily stunned. "Boss, this..."
He felt Fury was being completely reckless. Langley? Give them their operatives' information? Don't make him laugh.
S.H.I.E.L.D. had clashed with Langley more than once over overseas business; the CIA would sooner replace S.H.I.E.L.D. than help them.
Fury realized this shortly after the words left his mouth.
But Agent 83 was one of only two recruits he viewed as future pillars of S.H.I.E.L.D. Now that she was missing without a word, how could he not be anxious? Morgan Walsh was someone he had practically watched grow up.
Fury frowned. "Contact Councilman Pierce. Ask for his help."
If S.H.I.E.L.D. went to Langley directly, they'd hit a brick wall. They had to call in the old boss. Before Alexander Pierce was the Director of S.H.I.E.L.D., he maintained excellent relations with Langley. If he stepped in, getting the data was possible.
Just then.
Walter O'Brien, one of the sharpest minds in history and a top-tier hacker, successfully restored the sabotaged surveillance footage. He pointed at the main screen. "Done."
The static on the screen cleared rapidly.
The stairwell footage began to play. While it wasn't high-definition, it was clear enough to identify the figure holding a phone as Locke.
In the video, Locke's lips were moving slightly.
Fury's eyes lit up. "Lip readers. Get me a lip reader immediately. I want to know what he said."
This was the evidence. Fury had a gut feeling that this would be the direct link between Locke and the Peerless Assassin.
Soon, a lip-reading expert arrived and began focusing intently on Locke's lips in the footage.
However... though the footage was restored, there was still some distortion. The decoding process was quite difficult.
"...What... no?"
"Fine then... be careful."
"...You know where my house keys are, and you know where the first aid kit is."
"...Fine, I... won't be back... today."
"..."
Half an hour later.
Nick Fury looked at the transcript provided by the expert, an excited expression finally crossing his face.
The evidence had arrived.
"Where is the target now?"
"At school." An agent responsible for monitoring Locke from a distance replied. "Midtown High has its dance tonight. The target arrived an hour ago."
"Excellent."
Nick Fury took a deep breath and said solemnly, "Arrest him."
'Motherfucker.' Let's see where you run this time.
In Fury's mind—clouded by his preconceived notions and his fatherly concern for Morgan Walsh—this phone call was undoubtedly from the Peerless Assassin, even though the name was never mentioned.
This was the proof.
However, Coulson was more level-headed. To him, Morgan Walsh was simply Agent 83. "Boss, the NYPD..."
Fury countered coldly, "The Peerless Assassin has operated in both Texas and New York. This is a cross-state crime. Using the hunt for the Peerless Assassin as justification to have Locke assist us is perfectly legal. Grab him."
Last time they tried to grab Locke, they used a missing person case, which isn't a federal matter unless the local police hand it over. But this time? Using the Peerless Assassin as the reason? Even if the NYPD wanted to interfere, they wouldn't find an opening.
'But based solely on this lip-reading transcript, our evidence is paper-thin.'
Coulson wanted to tell Fury this, but looking at his boss's face, he opened his mouth and then decided to stay silent. He nodded. "Understood."
He figured Fury wouldn't listen anyway.
Soon, three black SUVs roared out of the S.H.I.E.L.D. Command Center under the guise of the FBI, speeding toward Midtown High.
...
Meanwhile, the atmosphere at the school dance was reaching its peak.
On the dance floor.
Gwen looked up at Locke, who had one hand around her waist. Her eyes flickered with the excitement of someone who had discovered hidden treasure. "I thought you were joking when you said you could dance."
Locke shrugged. "I'm a cowboy."
"And?"
"Isn't it common knowledge that cowboys can dance?"
"...Is it?"
"Of course."
Locke smiled. Any skill he needed could be acquired by opening his cheat and spending 1000 Potential Points. He didn't plan on dancing the tango; a basic level of Dance was more than enough.
Besides, it wasn't that he couldn't do a tango. With one skill point, he could. But a tango isn't a solo act, and Gwen didn't know how. Why waste the points? One should be high-profile in action, but low-profile in character.
Locke considered himself a considerate guy.
As the dance ended, students began to filter off the floor. Locke and Gwen followed suit, leaving the space for others.
"Locke."
"Yeah?"
Gwen had a brilliant smile on her face as she looked at him. "I had a wonderful time tonight."
"Me too."
Locke replied softly. Looking at Gwen's lips so close to his, his heart stirred. He couldn't help but want to lean in for a kiss.
Gwen slowly closed her eyes.
But... the spoilers arrived.
***
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