A/N: I forgot to mention that one of the OCs in this story is one of the main characters. But, he isn't the focal point of the story.
Insinuations
Maria was shellshocked. "Fired? What do you mean fired?!" she demanded of the redheaded young woman who was the registrar during the conference. She was a mere five inches away from her face, looming largely over the smaller woman. "Well?!"
The poor girl shrunk back under her superior officer's livid gaze. She swallowed, her freckled face paled and a cold sweat dripping down her forehead. "Th-they said that they wanted t-to go in a different direction," she squeaked.
Maria looked like she wanted to punch the girl in the face for being such a little bitch, but Phil's hand on her shoulder stopped her. Instead, she let out an unladylike snort in the girl's face and shoved passed her to get to the door.
"Wait! You can't go in there."
Ignoring her, Maria opened the door and walked inside. Jackson, LaRue, and Langsdorf were standing in front of the long conference table, talking amongst themselves with the mysterious man. "Ah, Commander Hill. Just the woman we wanted to see! And you brought Agent Coulson with you. Good." Langsdorf gestured to the man. "This is Agent Brandon Trent."
Agent Trent smiled cordially and held his hand out.
Maria and Phil ignored him completely. "I want to know on what grounds did you fire Director Fury," the former said, demandingly.
Councilman Jackson sighed heavily. He figured this would happen sooner or later. "On the grounds of being unable to perform his duties as SHIELD director to a satisfactory level."
Maria snorted derisively. "Please. Director Fury may have been an ass at times, but he got the job done. Period."
Phil nodded from behind her. "And, if that was what this was about, then why weren't Commander Hill and I consulted? We, probably out of everyone else here, have had the closest contact with Director Fury."
"We had already consulted with several agents on Fury's performance during the Masters of Evil crisis," LaRue answered, with a small hint of annoyance.
Phil narrowed his eyes. He didn't recall hearing anything about any agents being consulted in regards to Fury's job review. "Which agents?"
"Classified," LaRue answered, her annoyance growing with each word she had to utter.
"At what level?" Hill demanded.
"Ten. Is that all, Agents Hill and Coulson?"
Classified at Level Ten? What the hell for? What exactly do they have to hide from Level Nine agents, namely Hill? "No, that isn't all. I want to know why you didn't consult Hill and I, as well. Surely you'd think that we would speak frankly and honestly."
"Hey now." Trent interposed himself between the agents and councilmembers. "They answered your questions as best that they could. We all wanted Fury to remain, but it just wasn't possible."
Hill flicked her eyes toward the older man for the first time, giving him a real look over. His graying black hair was gelled and styled in a way that made him look about ten or fifteen years younger. There weren't many wrinkles on his, admittedly, handsome face. He probably spent the majority of his time in Administration at the Triskelion. His black suit was pressed and well fitted, and his shoes were so shiny that she could see her reflection in them.
She nodded. "Fine." She turned her attention from Trent to the councilmembers. "If we're to work together in the future, then we need to be on the up and up with each other."
"You'll be at Level Ten, so it's no problem," Coulson noted.
At that, Langsdorf looked at him strangely. "What are you two talking about?"
Hill raised an eyebrow. "My being promoted to director. It's in the protocol."
LaRue shook her head. "We told Fury that we were going in a different direction with SHIELD. Promoting one of his people would be leading it in the same direction."
"The very direction," Jackson added, "that led to SHIELD being embarrassed and decimated by Hydra, might I remind you."
Hill really, really didn't like what she had just heard, but she concealed it behind her mask of rigid professionalism. "I see. Then, if not me, or Coulson, then who?"
At that, Trent cleared his throat. "Allow me to reintroduce myself. Brandon Trent. Director Brandon Trent." He, once again, held his hand out for a handshake.
Hill just looked at him, a jarring mixture of confusion and anger plastered on her face. "…what?"
"You… you're the new director?" Coulson tried to wrap his head around this. They had passed over several capable agents, all of whom had spent time with Fury and knew what it took, and had what it took in his opinion, to succeed him.
"I am," Trent answered while tucking his twice rejected hand away in his pants pocket.
"What are his credentials?" Hill said, again gaining a demanding edge to her voice.
"None of your concern, Deputy Director Hill. Now then, if you'll excuse us." Jackson tried to leave, but Hill blocked his path. "Is there another problem, Agent Hill?"
"Yes, actually," she replied as calmly as possible, considering how absolutely livid she was. "It has only been thirty minutes since the review began, and you already have a replacement lined up for appointment."
"I like neither your tone nor what you're insinuating, Agent Hill," Langsdorf said, an angry edge biting his words.
"Maria, let's go," Coulson said. He gently touched her shoulder and pulled her away.
Hill allowed him to drag her away. She flashed a dangerous smile at the councilmembers and Director Trent that lasted until the door closed behind them. "Unbe-fucking-lievable!"
"Have you lost your mind, Maria?" Coulson reprimanded. "Have you forgotten that they are our bosses and can and will fire us if they so choose to?"
"They need Fury's approv– Goddammit!" She stormed into the coffee room, where Carter and Melinda May were enjoying the silence over a cup of coffee for the former and green tea for the latter.
"I take it that the meeting didn't go well," Sharon asked knowingly. Her eyebrows raised into her hairline as she watched Hill angrily make a cup of coffee. Black.
"Didn't go well is an understatement, I think," Phil said. He sighed heavily and also made himself a cup, albeit much more calmly than Maria.
"Have you heard of Brandon Trent?" she asked Sharon.
Sharon paused to think. "Ah, yeah, I have. Level Seven. Smart, like really smart. I don't mean like the Reed Richards kind of smart, but like… Fury smart."
"He's street wise," Melinda clarified.
Maria slammed her mug down. "LEVEL SEVEN?! They replaced Fury with a Level Seven agent?!" she roared in absolute disbelief.
Sharon cocked her head back, a look of nonplussed surprise on her face.
"Exactly." Maria took a swig of coffee and sighed angrily. "And those jackass councilmembers didn't have the balls to tell us who they consulted with to come up with this bullshit decision."
"None of us, that's for sure." Sharon tapped her chin in thought. "He wasn't in there for long, come to think of it. His performance review after the Battle of Manhattan was, what, two hours?"
Maria nodded. "Hell, mine was an hour. This was bigger than that and he was in there for, what fifteen, twenty minutes tops? Something isn't right, here."
"Maria, you cannot be serious," Phil said, exasperated.
"I am dead serious. I have never, in my entire life, been more serious about anything. Ever."
"I'm sure you're exaggerating," Melinda said between sips of tea.
"Even if I am, I'm not wrong about this. Something is up. I can feel it."
"What you feel is anger over a person you, and all of us, looked up to." Melinda set her cup down and folded her hands on the table. "Like him or hate him, we all knew we could depend on Nick. This new guy, Trent, we don't know him as well. I myself talked with him maybe four times when I was assigned here."
Sharon nodded. "I've maybe spoken with him a dozen times, and I've been here my entire career."
"That being said, we need to accept this for what it is. Regardless of how scary it might seem." With that, she stood and, after placing her empty cup in the sink, walked out.
Whatever the hell that was supposed to mean. Was it so hard for May to give a straight answer? Hill shook her head. She wasn't going to let this go. Something was up. She could feel it.
