Staying in the Sahara
Disclaimer: none of the main characters are mine, but belong to Marvel™ and Whedon.
Note: this story contains spoilers for the official series.
"Well, last week certainly was exciting!" Simmons said brightly the next morning as S.H.I.E.L.D.'s massive aircraft still stood in the massive airstrip. "I must admit that I was getting somewhat resentful of being left behind while you dealt with all the exciting parts of our missions, but that alien virus has certainly changed that!"
"Well, asides from the fact that we are happy to have you back to normal, especially your significant other," Skye, with whom Simmons was talking to, replied, "what do you mean, 'last week'? It was only yesterday!"
"Yes and yesterday was Sunday, and today is Monday!" Simmons said brightly. "So-o, next week!" She paused. "Or is it new week? I mean, today already is this week, so next week just does not sound right-"
"New week it is," Skye said quickly: she was becoming a good friend with the other woman, but Simmons' ability to babble was overwhelming to practically everyone, except for Fitz – and vice versa. Even Coulson had an occasional problem with the duo whenever they went full tag team on him... "Fair enough. Anyways, how do you like the Sahara after the virus-related excitement?"
"...What makes you say that we're in the Sahara? Maybe we are in some other desert-"
"Yes, but we have been flying over the Morocco territory, or aquatory, when Ward had to save the day," Skye said carefully, "and when it comes to deserts and Morocco, Sahara is the one in the front of the mind."
"Yes, but still, don't mention it, please. S.H.I.E.L.D. does not like specific terms-"
"What about 'sandbox'? It is a rather specific noun-"
"Yes, when applied to such a sandy desert like the Sahara, it becomes abstract-" Simmons sneezed. "Oh dear. The wildebeest are certainly smelly this morning, aren't they?"
"Yes, and I have a better question," Skye frowned. "Where did they come from?"
/
"From the south," agent Blake explained 'helpfully' when Coulson approached him with the same question. "They're migrating, you see, with the rains, and on occasion they tend to come even this far north. Don't worry; we have developed a protocol for just such an emergency."
"Right. How long they'll be staying here?"
"For one or two weeks at most," Blake said brightly. "Initially we thought about having some of the natives hunt them – not for money, of course, for meat – but that would not be productive and against everything S.H.I.E.L.D. stands for internationally, so-"
"So we're stuck here, because there are antelope over the airstrip. Can we chase them off?"
"We can't, not without causing a stampede, and believe me, this is one thing that Disney had gotten correct in that movie of his-"
"Got it," Coulson said brightly and left.
/
The news that they were grounded for now in the... desert (names were omitted to keep the senior agents happy) went about as well as expected, which was why Coulson broke them to May first.
"I see that, sir," the team's pilot said crossly (for her), "and have to point out that the animals are frightened and unhappy."
"So?"
"So, this reminds me of operation: Waterfall."
"What?" Fitz spoke up: he had 'persuaded' Ward to give him some training with the physicals, and was currently training alongside Skye; it was an open question as to who was more girly on this occasion. "What are you talking about?"
"It was a classified extraction operation," May said grudgingly, "and it failed. As a matter of fact it failed at the last possible moment, when Sudoff – you remember him, right, Coulson? – got a largo flock of geese to keep us grounded. As he later pointed out, animals do not have to act natural, they just have to work – and they did. His men fought us to a standstill after that-"
"After what?"
"After the geese kept us grounded just long enough for them to catch up to us," May explained to Fitz in a stonier voice than how she usually did. "After that it was a free for all and the data was lost-"
"That's why it was classified?" Skye could not help but ask the older woman.
"Yes, but also because the British insisted. This was mainly their job, S.H.I.E.L.D. was just assisting them," May paused. "Come to think of it, that was about the time when Akela Amadour went missing, sir."
"Really? I haven't noticed that," Coulson said faux-lightly.
"Of course not; I only discovered that recently, when I was going over my paperwork," May calmly replied. "I just thought that I mention it-"
A very loud noise from the outside interrupted May's musings; in fact, there were several of them and none of them were good.
"Guess they decided not to wait," May muttered and the agents – some more reluctantly than others – raced outside.
/
And outside was a state of open panic, as the antelopes and local agents raced around in a state of almost equal panic, as the giant wandered around, swinging their fists and clubs...
"Wait. Giants. I know those giants. They were the same giants that we've encountered in Peru and the Council people identified as barrowes," Ward said slowly.
"That is correct," spoke a new voice, as a wave of sand caused the team to scatter in and out their transportation vehicle. "They are barrowes and they work... with me."
Slowly, Coulson (he was separated from the others, except for Skye) turned around and got even unhappier. The speaker was also a giant, but clearly different from the rather ape-like barrowes. Roughly about 12 ft tall, this giant was as smooth and hairless as a stone statue, a similarity further emphasized by his gaunt face-like features, but undermined by his glowing eyes.
"And who are you?" he asked quietly.
"I am a cairn," his interlocutor replied as he pulled out a club appropriate to his own size (meaning that it was almost the size of a regular human) and looked down at Coulson. "I'm afraid that I will have to ask you to come with me – my superiors have questions for you in the name of god of mischief, strife and fire."
"I am afraid that I cannot do that," Coulson said equally calmly. "Such information is classified – you want it, use the official channels."
"Very well," the cairn nodded, before he swung his club right at Skye. Only the club met some sort of a resistance: Skye had pulled out something from her bag and was chanting, while holding it aloft. Sweat was falling down her face and she was not looking too healthy, but the club had also stopped moving, and for the first time the stony face of the cairn was somewhat uncertain.
"This isn't going to help you," he said as he swung his club again – and fell over backwards just as May shot him straight through an eye.
"Maybe not," the older woman agreed as she lowered down her rifle, "but this had."
/
"So, is everyone all right?" Fitz asked few moments later, when he arrived alongside the rest of the cavalry – i.e. agent Ward.
"Yes," Skye involuntarily twitched. "Thanks to May over here. I did not think that an M60 could stop this guy-"
"Absolutely not," the older woman agreed. "The M60 was one of the reasons why we lost the Vietnam war – the Soviet PKM isn't, or wasn't, the best weapon there is either, but it still was about 30% more reliable than the M60." She paused, looked at Ward's carefully bland facial expression – apparently he had heard this before – and added. "This, on the other hand, is a Remington 700 sniper rifle – one of the best sniper rifles there is, even if H&K PSG1 get all the good credit."
"And why do we have a sniper rifle?" Skye could not help but ask. "What?" she added to everyone's glares. "It's not like we used them before."
"True," May reluctantly agreed, "but after agent Ward's actions of shooting the other giants just anywhere didn't work, I decided to invest in one of those instead."
"Did it work?" Fitz asked.
The others just looked at the downed cairn – by now the deceased stone giant, whether or not he had been undead looked little more than a black skeleton surrounded by a pile of stony dust and gravel.
"I would say so," Ward said, somewhat reluctantly. "Now, do we hand it out to the Sandbox people-" he paused as he and the others looked around – and there was devastation. Most of the ape-like barrowes were gone, save for those who had gone down, but there were still many antelopes and agents also down, and the situation overall could be described as 'disorganized chaos'.
To make matters worse there were new arrivals – several jeeps filled with people of clearly local descent who were busy talking to agent Blake and both sides appeared to be increasingly angry with each other; considering that both sides were also armed, May shot Coulson a look and then fired a warning shot over the interlocutors' heads causing them to fall silent.
"Hi!" Coulson said brightly, approaching them flanked by May (with her sniper rifle) and Ward (who was also armed and dangerous). (The other three hang further back but still were present.) "Agent Blake, who are those people?"
The other agent looked at Coulson and reluctantly confessed.
/
"So, let me get this straight. Blake is either shooting the antelopes and selling them to the natives, or allows the natives to shot the antelopes themselves, here, for a price?" Skye was asking Coulson a brief while later, when all the excitement was finally over for the night.
"Pretty much," Coulson admitted as he finished the paperwork and came down from his office. "Sadly, the agents are still human and have all human fallacies, including greed. Agent Blake's case even is not the worst, he will be reprimanded, but he will keep his job for now. Any other questions?"
"The giants are working for Loki, the other Norse god, right? Can't S.H.I.E.L.D. request that the Asgardians keep him in line?" Ward spoke up, startling everyone.
"That's classified information," Coulson gave the younger man a look.
"So? So's the level system I keep hearing about lately," Skye joined in. "'Classified' apparently covers a wide range of topics."
"It does," May agreed placidly, "but the level system is more of a 'as you need to know' situation, and when you'll really need to know, you'll learn about it. That said," she shifted her gaze to Coulson, "stone giants are enemies of the Asgardians, so if we are being dragged into their situation, director Hill has to be notified."
"That's the problem," Coulson confessed. "Or rather, plausible deniability is. Yes, the cairn mentioned 'god of mischief, strife and fire', which are the titles of Loki, but apparently both he and the barrowes are undead, which brings the vampire connection instead."
"Ah."
"Therefore, if push comes to shove it may very well be the vampires' fault instead and Loki is clean, especially since the cairn is gone. Nice shot, by the way."
"Thank you," May nodded. "So we can do nothing we for now?"
"No," Coulson said sadly and looked at the others. "Isn't life of a secret agent fun?"
Silence was his only answer.
End.