The Confession

The Next Morning

10:30 AM

"Mr. Hamady, how nice of you to stop by for a visit."

In the middle of the night, Agents Sunil Bakshi and Chance Jones arrived via quinjet with Jaasim Maalik Hamady in tow. The man was shackled at the hands and feet, and had an opaque black sack over his head. They shoved him inside a cell under the main deck and went to tell Trent they had arrived. He told them to wait until morning before interrogating him.

When morning arrived, he changed his mind and decided to allow Agents Ward and Sanders to interrogate him. Ward, Coulson could see. The man was analytical and very intimidating when he needed to be. Time spent with May - too much for his tastes, by the way - only sharpened his interrogation skills.

He, Coulson could understand. Sanders, on the other hand, didn't look like she had interrogated a girl scout, let alone a hardened terrorists and potential murderer. She was good as an assistant to the Director and Deputy Director, but someone like May should have been in there with Ward. Or, just Ward by himself.

Hamady was sitting behind the table, handcuffed hands cradling his sunken head. His head was shaking vehemently as he appeared to be praying. Possibly part of his worship.

Suddenly, Sanders' hand banged against the table, actually shaking the metal table. Hamady sat up abruptly. His tear stained eyes locked onto her.

Okay, maybe she had interrogated a girl scout or two.

"Mr. Hamady," she said calmly, even a little friendly. "We have a fee questions to ask you. Like, why you were in Willow Creek Estates on the night of September 15th."

"I was visiting my brother and his family," he answered.

"Ah yes," Ward chimed, "Mahmood, who lives on the other side of the complex. Now, why, with that in mind, were you anywhere near this woman's residence just thirty minutes before she was murdered?" As he asked, he placed a photo of Hill in front of Hamady.

Hamady looked utterly confused by the picture. "I– I do not know this woman."

"Doesn't matter," Sanders said. "What does is that eye witnesses placed you and three other men, whom we've identified as your brothers, around Hill's apartment at the time of the murder. Now," she leaned forward, giving Hamady not only clear view of her chest, but also a very menacing look, "tell us why you and your brothers were near her apartment thirty minutes before her murder."

He stammered, partly distracted by her cleavage and mostly unnerved by her intense glare. "I–I wasn't even there at ten o'clock."

Ward scoffed. "So, you're calling over a dozen people liars?"

"They have to be lying. My brothers and I were approached by three men in all black carrying heavy assault rifles. They told us to leave the neighborhood for an hour or so because they were about to initiate a sting operation and didn't want civilians in the crossfire," he explained as calmly as he could.

Sanders never took her eyes off of him. "And what time was this?"

"Around nine. Perhaps 9:15. There was a mass exodus of people; everyone on that street was told to leave for around an hour and a half. We did not return until around 10:50, eleven o'clock. By the time we arrived, whatever sting that was to take place had already happened."

Coulson and May, who were watching the interrogation with Barnes outside then interrogation room, shared a glance with Barnes. "This correlates with what you said," he Coulson whispered to him. "Perfectly, in fact."

May nodded silently.

Ward scoffed again. "So, you say that a group of men in black told you to leave, so they would perform a sting?" he asked, incredulous. "And who were these men affiliated with? FBI? CIA? DEA? SWAT? SHIELD? STRIKE? What?"

The flurry of acronyms made his head spin. "I–I don't know. They had no markings on their armor for me to identify them with. And their faces were covered by riot helmets, so I don't know what they looked like."

"So, a group of mysterious men just showed up, didn't flash any badges," Ward waited for confirmation from Hamady before continuing, "and just told you to leave? For a sting."

"Yes."

"That picture sound wrong to you, Agent Sanders?"

"Very wrong. Listen. We know that your family is in debt. As it turns out, terrorism isn't actually all that profitable, monetarily speaking, and tax collectors don't scare easily, anyway. So, you needed some money. You convinced you brothers to help you score some cash to help stem off the sharks nipping at your heels. You see a pretty white woman, all alone at night. A nice car in her parking space, nice clothes – you figure she has some money. Maybe a few credit cards that you could max out to pay your debt off.

"You wait until it's dark, go to her apartment and wait for her to return. You break into her home to rob her at gun point. But, you didn't consider the possibility that she was packing heat and had someone with her. He quickly blows away your three brothers, then you two struggle for the gun. In your struggle, she nearly shoots you, with her fifty caliber gun. In your grief and panic, you run, she runs after you, and you kill her." She held her hands out wide. "That sound about right?"

Ward nodded appreciatively.

Hamady, on the other hand, was shaking his head vehemently. "No, no, no! All of that is nothing but speculation. Nothing more! My brothers are still alive!"

"Oh, really?" Ward placed three sheets of paper in front of him. "Coroner's reports for Mahmood, Rafeeq and Maidi. All deceased from gunshot wounds. All inflicted by the same nine millimeter handgun, Joseph Hill's gun."

Coulson cocked his head back in surprise. They were aware that Joseph Hill, at least according to Hill's father, didn't exist, right? Or, that he wasn't in fact related to Maria, right?

Hamady was gravely silent for a very long time as his eyes scanned the papers in front of him. "This… this is impossible," he whispered. The papers each said that the three were killed on the same night, just minutes before Hill. "This is impossible!" he roared, banging his fist against the table. The reverberation from the strike was nonexistent compared to Sanders'. "They were alive just hours ago! We were all preparing to go to bed when two agents of SHIELD apprehended me! They tried to stop them! My brothers are still alive!"

Ward shrugged. "Not according to the coroner."

"Then the coroner is lying!"

He couldn't help but snicker a little. "Yeah. Everyone's lying to make you seem guilty. This is all just one big setup by the city of Portage."

"Yes, it has to be!"

Ward and Sanders shared an amused glance. "Listen, you're in debt. Hill was alone and seemed to have money. You were seen in the neighborhood just half an hour before Hill was murdered. Motive and opportunity. The facts don't lie," he reasoned.

"But they can be twisted to hide the truth. Someone is deceiving you into believing that I am guilty when I am not!" His face grew desperate as he pleaded with Ward. "Please, you must believe me. I am in debt, yes, and I have done terrible things in my past, yes. But, I swear to Allah that I did not shoot this woman! I was nowhere near her when she was killed!"

Ward shrugged, either not swayed by his insistence or uncannily able to stay objective. "Alright, so it wasn't a robbery. A Ten Rings assignment, then."

"No. I have not been in association with the Ten Rings in over two months."

"You quit, right?"

"Yes," he affirmed. "I am trying to turn my life around."

"Terrorist organizations like the Ten Rings don't really seem like the type to just let people leave. Maybe the big boss wanted some revenge against SHIELD for his and his pals' defeat and offered to let you go unmolested of you carried out one more assignment for him."

Hamady was shaking his head halfway through Ward's speculation. "No. I have not spoken with the Mandarin in over three months."

"Well, if not him, then the second in command. When was the last time you spoke with him?"

"When I left months ago."

"He just allowed you to leave, just like that?"

"No, I had to undergo the process to cleanse myself for life outside the Rings."

"And that process was killing Hill."

"No! I am telling you, I did not murder this woman. I had nothing to do with it!"

Ward and Sanders shared a glance, and Ward walked over to the door and knocked on it three times. "You know, if you just told us the truth, this would go a lot easier for you."

"What do you think?" Coulson asked May.

"He's telling the truth," she answered, without a scintilla of doubt in her voice.

Coulson agreed. Which was why he was surprised when Sitwell arrived carrying a silver container. Something about the container sent a frigid chill down Coulson's spine, and a burst of searing heat along the scar on his chest.

He hissed in pain and clutched his chest.

"Are you okay, Phil?" May touched his arm and guided him to the wall behind him so he could lean against it.

Coulson took several deep gulps of air. The pain in his chest was unbearable; it was like being stabbed in the chest repeatedly every second, until Sitwell handed the case to Sanders. When the door closed, it went away. "I… I'm fine, May."

"You're sure?"

He nodded and turned his attention back to the interrogation. Or, he would have, but the one-way window was suddenly opaque. "Are you seeing this?"

"They're torturing him now."

Coulson frowned heavily. He was telling the truth, and he knew that Ward could see that.

"NO! KEEP THAT AWAY FROM ME! NOOOOOOOOO–"

An anxious spark jumped through Coulson's chest as the room went dead silent after the uproarious plea for whatever they were doing to him to stop. His first inclination was to barge in to ensure that everything was okay, when the viewing window suddenly shifted back to transparent and Sanders reopened the door to hand Sitwell the case.

Again, when the case was within his vicinity, the pain and chills returned full force. Coulson restrained a scream and slid down the wall until he was sitting.

"I'm taking you to sickbay." May grabbed his arm to pull him up, but he touched her arm as lightly as he could manage. "Phil…"

"I'm fine." As soon as Sitwell rounded the corner to return the container back to wherever he got it from, the pain subsided into a dull throb. He took a deep breath and rose to his feet. His eyes remained on the floor for several moments, and when he lifted them up, he saw Ward wrapping the final layer of bandages around Hamady's eyes. Strangely, Hamady was calm, much more so than he was just moments earlier.

Not only that, but no torture session that he had ever witnessed or heard of had ever lasted less than five minutes. Whatever they did in there lasted only thirty seconds. Also, there wasn't a single drop of blood to be found. "What did they do?"

May could only shrug.

"Now then," Sanders sat in the once forgotten chair across from Hamady and opened a notepad. "Tell me exactly what happened."

"On September 13th, I was contacted by Lan Fu, the second in command and present leader of the Ten Rings. He ordered me to kill a SHIELD agent named Maria Hill, who had been seen in the Chicago area recently. I, along with my three brothers, staked her home out for a full day, until we were confident that she would not be going anywhere that night.

"When night fell, we broken into her home and attempted to kill her, making it look like a home invasion. We did not anticipate her family being there. As soon as we entered, her cousin shot and killed my three brothers. Before he could shoot me, we struggled for the gun. In our struggle, Hill fired her gun three times, hitting her own cousin twice in the midsection.

"I took his gun and ran. She followed me. I managed to sneak around her and shot her once, then circled around and shot her again. I then ran back home and informed Fu of the successful mission."

Ward took a deep breath, held it for a moment, then released it. "Why did the Ten Rings want Hill dead?"

"I don't know. I didn't ask."

Sanders jotted down a few more notes before flipping her pad closed and standing up. "Thank you, Mr. Hamady. See how easy that was?" She flashed him a friendly smile to ease his nerves and walked out. Ward nodded once sharply at the man and followed her.

"Agent Ward. A word?" Coulson said as soon as he stepped foot out into the hall.

Ward hesitated just slightly, then murmured something to Sanders. "Of course, sir."

"What happened in there?" he asked immediately.

Ward sighed and placed his hands on his hips. "Let's just say that Agent Sanders is very persuasive when she needs to be. Not to mention intimidating."

"Persuasive and intimidating enough that Hamady changed his entire story after thirty seconds of secret torture?" May asked, eyebrows raised in an expression of her incredulity.

He raised an eyebrow in the same manner. "You think she tortured him?"

"Then, what was in that case?" Coulson inquired without skipping a beat.

"The threat of torture," he answered. His unnecessary vagueness annoyed Coulson to no end. It was something that agitated him to the point that he was having an intense physical reaction. It wasn't just some fancy tool of the trade, so to speak. There was something in that container.

Coulson was about to say more when he noticed Hamady being led back to his cell by three heavily armed guards. The man was calm and collected, much more so than he was just five minutes earlier.

Maybe the truth calmed him down? If he was telling the truth, which he wasn't. "I don't think he told the truth when he finally confessed."

Ward licked his lips and spared a single glance at May. "What do you mean?"

"Hill doesn't have a cousin named Joseph Hill. At least, according to her family." It was a fact that he had been stating to the point that he was getting sick of hearing the words.

"The guy's a drunk, right? Maybe he just forgot. It happens."

"Maybe."

He decided to keep everything Barnes had told him to himself.

Something extremely fishy was going on around here.

A/N: Well, there you have it, folks. The mystery of who killed Maria Hill has finally been laid to rest.

Or has it?!