BOOM.
The car explodes behind me. When I agreed to work for HYDRA, I knew that it would eventually come to this, but I really hadn't hoped that this would be the way to go out. I absolutely despise car chases, and I've already gone through one of those. Now, it looks as though the foot chase is next.
I scramble to my feet, tossing a glare at the man shooting at me. I duck and weave through the streets, sparing only a second glance for the screaming citizens. Of all the places for me to go, I just had to land here, in Marrakesh.
My brain goes into overdrive, spewing random facts at me. Marrakesh is the fourth largest city in the country, making it the perfect place to hide. I'm 203 miles southwest of the capital, Rabat, making me wonder how in the blazes HYDRA found me here. If I want to lose them, I need to head for Jemaa el-Fnaa, the marketplace in the medina sector, and hide among the locals and tourists there. The sun is going down now, so the square should be crowded with tourists, Chleuh dancing boys, storytellers, magicians, and peddlers. Any number of the food stalls should give me cover.
I run through an alley and out into the souk. Snagging a few articles of clothing and tossing some coins at the merchant, I duck into another alley and begin wrapping myself in the cloth. The girl who steps out moments later is not the brown-haired, hazel-eyed girl with pale skin who stepped in. I've rubbed olives over my hands and face, giving me a darker complexion, and the cloth wrapped around my body is, while brightly colored, enough to allow me to blend in, even including a hijab.
I move through the crowd with my eyes down and my fists clenched. My tension heightens the moment a man slips his hand in mine and pulls me close, hissing, "You have a tail on your six. now, you can trust me and I can get you out of here, or you can go off on your own and probably die." I look up into the face of a blond, blue eyed man wearing a caftan and turban. He looks kinda ridiculous, but I have to admit, I'm glad for the help.
"I trust you." The words leave my lips before I can take them back, and I'm momentarily surprised. I'm a double agent, and trusting people is not in my list of skills, but something about this man makes me want to trust him. Perhaps it's the warm British accent, or the finely chiseled cheekbones he possesses, but whatever it is, it's enough.
He takes my hand and pulls me into an alleyway, pushing me against the wall and hissing, "They're coming." His eyes aren't focused on me, and this makes me think that he's not talking to me, which is further confirmed when he continues, "Awaiting further orders, sir?" He seems to listen for a moment, and then he turns back to me and grimaces. "Sorry about this."
He pulls me in and kisses me, but I can tell from the tension in his shoulders and the quiver in his breath that he's as worried as I am. I hear footsteps outside the alley, and they pause momentarily before continuing. A voice calls out, "Nothing here, just a couple of lovebirds," and then the feet move away, fading into the distance.
The man pulls back, blushing. "Sorry again," he says, "Just following my orders. Public displays of affection tend to make people uncomfortable. They overlook things when that happens." He sticks out a hand and offers it to me. "I'm Agent Leopold Fitz, of SHIELD, but you can just call me Fitz. And you are?"
I figure that the best policy in this situation is honesty, and I stick out my hand. "Victoria Mercury. You can call me Vic. But I think that the name that SHIELD knows me by is Enigma." He gapes at me for a second as a black van pulls up in the mouth of the alley and a middle-aged man wearing an impeccable suit steps out of the back.
The next moment makes me question what I've done as Fitz turns to the man in black. "Agent Coulson, sir, I think we've found what we've been looking for." His expression is unreadable as he turns back to me. "We've found Enigma."