"You want me to slow him down, sir? Or are you sending in more guys for him to beat up?"

"I'll let you know."

S.H.I.E.L.D. agents are supposed to shoot first, ask questions later, but I have never quite been able to follow that. Maybe I had read too many comic books as a kid, but it just doesn't seem right. What if you got the wrong answers to the questions you asked? It would be too late to fix anything then.

Take this situation for instance. What if the stranger currently destroying our security was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time? What if he was former Special Forces and stumbling across the installation in the dead of night had just triggered the wrong memories? Yes, I'll admit that would be incredibly unlikely; then again, strange things and unlikely chances are kind of our business.

Regardless, I would like to know who this man is and what he's doing here, both questions that'd be easier answered with him alive than dead.

I think over the intruder and his actions. He's attacked half the security team by now, but he hasn't killed any of the men. They'll have pretty bad headaches when they wake up, and may be rather sore, but they seem to be all still breathing. It doesn't seem fair to shoot him for that.

While I'm still contemplating, a voice comes over the radio again.

"You better call it, Coulson, 'cause I'm starting to root for this guy."

Great. Those are words no one wants to hear from the guy with the shot, especially if that guy is Barton. I probably should've told him to take the shot as soon as he had a chance. If Barton is having second thoughts, he might not shoot if I give the order. And I really don't want to become another agent whose call was countermanded by Barton's. That said, Barton has a pretty good instinct; he was right about Romanoff, and if he's hesitating about the stranger, maybe there's more going on here.

But this situation still needs dealing with which means that I need to make a decision, bringing me back to what protocol says I'm supposed to do: eliminate the threat by any means necessary.

I've never been the ideal S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, though – I'm not forceful enough; I'm pretty sure that's why I was assigned to deal with Tony Stark and all his fits in the first place. Any other agent would've gotten a meeting with him as soon as he'd come back from Iraq, and not just cooled his heels for a couple of weeks while Stark pointedly ignored him. Then again, this is Stark: even Director Fury can't make him do something he's not interested in, and it looked like Agent Romanoff, one of our best, was having trouble when I was sent out here. I guess I was lucky to have gotten out of there when I did.

My thoughts are turned back to the stranger again as he breaches the inner containment field. Unless he knows more about this hammer than we do, he's going to have trouble picking it up much less using it.

"Last chance, sir."

I tell Barton to wait.

Protocol or not, I can't justify shooting the man like this. And that's why I'm incredibly thankful I don't have to make the call; confounded by the heavy hammer, he screams his heart out, and then suddenly gives up and lets the remaining guards bring him in. I note his reaction – he at least thought he knew more about the hammer than we did; that'll be something to consider when I interrogate him.

For now, I have a breathing and conscious prisoner to interrogate, a very embarrassed but live security team, a reliable agent backing me up, and a clear conscience. And that's my ideal.

Author's Note: Thank you for reading! Reviews are greatly appreciated; flames will be sent to Coulson to dry out everyone on his team who got soaked in the thunderstorm.