Chapter 43: Believe Me

Hill felt that the Director’s expression was even darker than usual today.

After reporting the situation, she saw that Fury had no further instructions, so she turned and left the office, closing the door behind her to shut out the intimidating chill of the air inside.

The news that Hawkeye had also lost contact left Fury silent for a long time.

His one eye stared at the air, frozen in thought, silently plotting who knew what.

Back when Black Widow was still probing, uncertain whether Luke was actually the Apostle, this information hadn’t been reported to Fury.

Now, with gaps in his intelligence, Fury could only rely on the limited information he had, trying to deduce what exactly was going on.

He hadn’t earned the title King of Agents for nothing. After all these years, Fury’s greatest skill was reading people.

He’d watched the video of the Apostle’s battle against Iron Man countless times, analyzing it again and again. His conclusion: selective contact was possible. The man’s nature was not evil.

What led him to this judgment was mainly that, on that day, the Apostle hadn’t chosen to engage Iron Man in a crowded area. Secondly, the Apostle hadn’t harmed the pilot—breaking a leg seemed to be an accident.

That interview was crucial too. Language is the window to the soul. To trade barbs with Tony Stark, the infamous mouthpiece, and hold one’s own—Fury refused to believe a truly vicious criminal could pull that off.

If it had been a real villain, that absurd interview would never have happened; it would have been a catastrophe.

Fury’s summary: he felt the Apostle’s personality was very similar to Tony’s.

Equally arrogant, proud, and dismissive of authority.

But the Apostle was even more unrestrained, more rebellious, more provocative toward authority—a host of vivid traits.

In short, he was even more troublesome than Tony, but not someone Fury couldn’t approach.

In truth, what made Fury hesitate wasn’t any of this, but a question he still couldn’t figure out: was there really a powerful organization behind the Apostle?

He wracked his brains over this, but couldn’t be sure.

If there was, why had this organization never appeared before? Not a single clue, not even a trace? Unless they weren’t on this planet, no one could fully escape S.H.I.E.L.D.’s surveillance.

If there was no organization behind him, then how could those mysterious technologies be explained?

This logical contradiction left Fury baffled; he’d lost all his hair to the stress and still hadn’t found an answer.

He sighed silently, drawing his gaze back to the present.

His two ace agents had now both gotten themselves trapped. The enemy didn’t seem intent on killing them, merely imprisoning them. Fury was considering whom to send next—and for what purpose?

He thought his previous approach to dealing with Iron Man had worked well.

Geniuses like them were always proud and difficult, chafing at discipline; pressure applied incorrectly would only provoke a backlash. Better to extend an olive branch, employ gentle means, and keep them under soft control.

Keeping them within sight was far more reassuring than knowing nothing about them.

Besides, there was a grander plan brewing in his mind—one that required these people…

“Who should I send?”

The question returned.

S.H.I.E.L.D. had a vast roster of agents, but those qualified for a Level 10 classified mission were few.

Other than the missing Black Widow and Hawkeye, the rest who barely qualified were all occupied with their own tasks, many of them even abroad and unable to return quickly.

“Wait.” Fury’s eye suddenly gleamed as he thought of someone. “He happens to be in the office—why not call him in?”

Soon, a man in a suit, middle-aged and teetering on the edge of baldness, Phil Coulson, entered Fury’s office.

“Director, you wanted to see me?”

Coulson seemed to always wear a gentle smile, just as Fury always dressed in a long black coat.

“Phil, I need manpower.” Fury never minced words; he quickly explained the situation and told Coulson this was a Level 10 classified matter.

Coulson immediately grew serious. His clearance was Level 8; anything involving Level 10 was always of utmost importance.

Standing there, Coulson thought carefully for a moment—and indeed, he had someone in mind.

“Director, I’d like to recommend someone.”

…

S.H.I.E.L.D. Logistics Department.

It looked no different from an ordinary office, sectioned off by semi-enclosed cubicles, each desk topped with computers and stacks of paperwork. The air carried the scent of ink.

At one desk sat an Asian woman. She was deftly organizing the messy files, her sharp ears catching the sound of someone approaching from behind.

“Agent May.”

She recognized Coulson’s voice without turning. “No.”

“Melinda…” Coulson smiled warmly, but before he could finish—

“I’m not going back.”

Coulson grinned. “Yes, the setup here is wonderful. Have you thought about adding a moat?”

Agent May looked at Coulson, dissatisfied.

Coulson said, “If there were any other options, the Director wouldn’t have sent me to you.”

“Nick sent you?” May looked at him.

“Mm-hmm. To be precise, I recommended you to him.”

“Hmph.” May returned to sorting the documents.

“Natasha and Clint are both out of contact. At this point, only you can take on this mission.” Coulson said.

May was surprised—what kind of mission required both Black Widow and Hawkeye, and both had gone missing? Still, she didn’t turn around.

Coulson kept persuading her: “Melinda, S.H.I.E.L.D. needs you now. I promise, only this once. When you’re back, you can return to…” He gestured at the paperwork.

May knew what word Coulson meant: escape.

Ever since the Bahrain Island incident, she’d hidden in the logistics department, rejecting all field assignments, content to be a clerk.

Seven years ago, she was an ordinary agent, handling all sorts of mundane S.H.I.E.L.D. field tasks. Until one morning, Coulson brought her a new mission: go to Bahrain Island, negotiate with an enhanced individual who had taken a little girl hostage.

She was an expert in such cases. S.H.I.E.L.D. had sent several teams before, but all vanished without a trace upon entering the building where the hostage was held.

Soon after arriving, the two teams accompanying her also lost contact, one after another.

So she had to go in alone to investigate.

Once inside, she was attacked by her own people—the missing team members. After knocking them out, she hurried upstairs and found that the enhanced individual could control minds.

All agents sent before had been completely controlled. Only May, thanks to her willpower, managed to stay conscious.

After a fierce battle, she was victorious.

She moved to rescue the hostage. Yet, to her disbelief, the real enhanced individual was the little girl herself.

For the safety of all agents in the building and herself, she chose to shoot and kill the girl.

Ironically, she was hailed as a hero for single-handedly rescuing everyone, earning the nickname “Cavalry.”

She hated that title.

Shooting a child left her consumed with guilt. Her body healed, but the psychological shadow never left.

Not long after, her life fell apart—she divorced, left field work behind, and buried herself in paperwork.

Even now, she often recalled that moment—the clear eyes of the little girl as she pulled the trigger…

“May…” Coulson was still at her side, waiting for her answer.

May sighed.

“Just this once.” In the end, duty won out. May rolled her eyes at Coulson and said, “Only this once. Don’t ask again.”

Coulson beamed with joy.

Coulson brought Melinda May to see Fury.

After learning the details, May asked, “If the other side is aggressive, what should I do?”

S.H.I.E.L.D. had been unsettled in recent years; Fury sensed it and was secretly planning to establish an independent force—the Avengers. He hadn’t told anyone about this.

Since he intended to recruit the Apostle, he couldn’t afford to push things too far.

Fury said, “This is a rescue mission. If rescue fails, negotiate. Don’t provoke conflict.”

May frowned, remembering Bahrain. That mission had also started with negotiations.

Coulson understood her, knew what weighed on her mind.

The old softie smiled reassuringly: “No one expected the enhanced individual to be a child that time. Trust me, it won’t happen again.”

Fury, for once, encouraged his subordinate: “Don’t feel pressured. Two teams will assist you. I’m waiting for your good news.”

May looked at Fury and Coulson and nodded.

Luke’s third tenant was about to arrive…