The Cooler, Classified S.H.I.E.L.D. Location, USA

Newly minted Director of S.H.I.E.L.D Nicholas J Fury walked into the depths of a soon to be upgraded and rejuvenated secure site. Some of the worst that S.H.I.E.L.D. had come across had been held here, either objects of unknown origin, or people with or without gifts that were just too dangerous for anywhere else. But such was the changing world that this wasn't as secure and secret as it had once been and needed to be shut down. The current inventory moved, both human and otherwise and everything changed and secured. But being who and the position he was now in had brought something to Nick's singular eyes attention. A prisoner unlike any other, one that wasn't as hardcore, though doubly as dangerous. One who'd been a model prisoner the entire time he'd been there and one who quite frankly had been caught by bureaucracy and not a crime. His status was rather unusual after all, and while he'd been one of the first every operatives of S.H.I.E.L.D. the previous director hadn't liked him, hadn't liked anything about his origins and locked him away and threw away a key.

Nick wasn't the previous director, he wasn't the same sort of person, and while he was paranoid, and dangerous himself he felt what they had in the depths of this facility was a true waste of resources. He was a gifted, though he was pretty cagey about showing his gifts, had behaved well, hadn't ever even TRIED to escape, and honestly could've done at any time he felt like from what Nick had read and generally it was like he was merely biding his time for something.

Nick wondered what that was, and if he could make him an offer to do with this apparently willing incarceration that would once more put Prisoner 616 into action. He had many accolades to his name, being the first specialist for the main. Known the agency over at one time as THE Specialist, he was a forerunner to something they now trained for at Ops academy and that only the VERY best of the best could become. He was the mark, the standard that any that had come after him had to meet, and many, quite frankly – fell far short at times.

Prisoner 616 had been a forerunner, friends to Peggy Carter herself and yes, he was old enough to have known her to be invited personally by the woman herself to join when S.H.I.E.L.D. formed out of what was the S.S.R of old.

Nick was being escorted by a guard who looked at him warily, Nick knew he had a reputation and a fearsome mien, something he'd cultivated for a long time, and the missing eye actually helped with that. But this was different, "You have something to say to me agent?" Nick finally said, he wasn't a great one for breaking silences but the guard was getting on his nerves with the furtive looks and all.

"Actually sir I do, you're here for Harry, right?" he said, his name was Thompson, level 5, not a bad level, not a great level and he was talking to a level 10, something he'd likely never in his life done before. Also he'd used Prisoner 616's name. This was pretty unusual, unusual enough for Nick to comment on it.

"Harry?" Nick said, his single eye bearing into the pale blue of Thompson's working pair.

"Yes sir, I've been assigned here a couple of years now and well 616, he's not like the other prisoners, and well...I won't lie I've gotten friendly. We all have that have common rotation down here." Thompson said, "like I said he's not like the other high risk, high security prisoners, we know to watch our backs, of course, but Harry. He's had means and opportunity to escape, or hurt us, hell he's actually done the opposite at times. A Year ago as you're no doubt aware there was an escape attempt, a glitch was caused in the electronic locks down here from someone on an upper level frying the circuitry to the cells up there that unlocked those down here. He was damn near a blood bath. We've got the worst of the worst down here, and personally I got into trouble." he licked his lips, his eyes misting with memory, "I was down, a nasty gifted had me dead to rights, this was just outside Harry's, sorry 616's cell. Next thing I know Harry burst out, he'd made no move to escape and I figured I was done for, that he'd just join in with the other gifted. Seconds, had to be less really, Harry took down the aggressor, had him out for the count, tied in Harry's shirt and immobilised, then got me up, got me behind the barricade, then turned around, walked back to his cell and closed it behind him."

Nick nodded, he'd read that, but this was a more personal record than the reports. "Never a single day of trouble, he's friend, even damn it nice to talk to. He never demands anything outside of what he's allowed and EARNED. So I am only a Level 5 sir, and it's not really my place to even ask but...urh…"

"You want to know why he's even here, especially in the secure floor?" Nick asked.

"If'n it's not too much trouble sir, I just want to understand. Most here, it's pretty damned obvious. They're here for our safety, the WORLDS safety. But honestly sir, I think the world could do with MORE like Harry, I truly do."

"That's actually why I'm here Agent, I don't think he belongs here too, but you help me now. What's his mental state?"

"In what way, I mean pretty upbeat if that's what you mean, some prisoners who've been inside as long as he has get maudlin, don't really care what happens next. If I had to choose a word, it'd be patient." Thompson said, "Like he knows this is all a misunderstanding or something. He uses his benefits in some odd ways. He always laughs that since he's got the time right now he's doing his best to beat the 10,000 hour rule." Thompson smiled, "So I suppose you could say he keeps busy, nothing germane in anyway, unless you want to see his card magic."

Fury rose a brow, "Card Magic, like store brought?"

"Yes sir, it was the first thing he asked for when he was finally allowed some personal affects, a store brought magic kit, from there he focused on card magic. He's DAMNED good at it now, and that was only actually a couple of years ago, seems like whoever put him here had him under some unusually harsh restrictions, and that loosened up."

Fury nodded to himself, "Well that's...interesting."

"Actually sir, come this way a moment, if you're to talk to him, you might want to see this." Thompson said, redirecting their walk to the command centre that after the aforementioned break, and part of the reason for the needed modernisation, was installed to not be reliant on other parts of the faculty.

Fury was shown to a particular monitor the keyboard was tapped a moment and then Fury lifted his brow again, the black and white feed showed a dark haired man laying on is bunk, a pack of cards on one hand, the other was lazily throwing with an experts flair a card, it circled the room, landed back on the top of the deck and this was repeated, then a flourish the cards fanning, arching and a water fall from hand to hand, a mere flex and one shot to the other side of the room and dart board there-in, cutting the previous card in half on the bullseye. "That doesn't seem safe." Fury noted.

"Like I said sir, he's never given us a reason to doubt him." Thompson said, "At first we were obviously curious, and...perturbed, but he smiled, shrugged and said he didn't have any other way of flexing his aiming, and would never aim at us. I will say I was the one that didn't confiscate them and so far, now a year later he's lived up to his promise."

Fury nodded, this was all adding up to his previous thoughts on prisoner 616, aka Harry. The image on the screen changed, the man in repose on the bed stopped, looked at the camera, saluted with a lazy flick off his forelock and went back to what he was doing.

"I don't know how he does that, but he always knows when we're watching" Thompson said.

"I think I want to meet him now" Fury said, now more decided than ever he wanted to do this.

The Cooler, Interview Room 2,

A Little Later

616 it turned out was an average height man with raven's wing black hair and incredibly green eyes. Fury had been around a lot of powerful people, had met a woman who could shoot laser out of her hands and hell he WAS one of the most powerful men in the world now with his control of SHIELD. But there was something swirling in 616's, this Harry's eyes that spoke of ancient power, intense but controlled perfectly on call a whisper away at a moment's notice. This was backed up by the surprisingly easy way he moved despite the shuffle all prisoners had while shacked hand and foot like he was, then as he was attached to the table he merely let them do it. But Fury could see the assessment in 'Harry's' eyes, the plans being formed and rejected like all good operatives, especially a Specialist would have in this situation, but he never acted on any of them.

Finally he sat down, not having much choice, though Fury had a feeling he could get free any damn time he wanted to.

"My name is Director Fury," Fury began slowly.

This brought a slight light to the admittedly rather handsome man's eyes, "Indeed, truly?" he asked, his accent surprisingly was English. For some reason Fury hadn't really expected that. "Hmmm, that could bode one of two ways for me considering you came here to see me." he said.

"Oh really, and what do you see as those options being?" Fury was honestly curious to hear.

"You read my file, obviously, are probably new to your position and are being told about all the skeleton in Shields closet and you've now read about me. Now either you're a fair minded man and you've come to see for yourself that I'm here on trumped up unjustified charges, or you're merely curious to meet the longest lasting SHIELD mistake." Harry said in an easy tone, like he didn't really care which was true. "Looking into your eye, I think you're the first and I won't lie, it's an odd feeling I'm having right now."

"And what is that then, can I call you Harry?"

"I'd prefer it Director Fury, or what I'd really like to be called again is Agent, and that's the odd feeling after the couple of decades I've been locked up"

"How long, the file only mentioned you've been here a decade at most?"

"Not so Director, it's been longer, I was actually locked up originally by one of the founders of SHIELD, though none of the others actually knew that or I'm fairly sure Peggy would've had a thing or two to say." Harry said with a slight smile.

"You barely look 25 now," Fury noted.

"Part of why I'm here Director, I assure you I am...older" he said with a faint smile, "And there-in lies something that SHIELD has never been able to discern about me, and believe me it's been tried, so if that is the reason you are here, curiosity then I have to say that is doomed to fail. What gives me my longevity isn't something you can measure, nor is it something that can be taken from me, stolen, replaced or quite frankly…beaten by any science." Harry told him, "On the other hand, instead of trying to uncover secrets that you are woefully not prepared to tackle around here and at his time, I put forth a possible use and suggestion of what to do with me that will make us both happy and make use of my small gifts in way that will be beneficial to you and the Agency."

"You want to go active again, after what sounds like many years locked up by us, you're what...just willing to forgive and forget."

"God no, but then I don't hold any negative emotions towards SHIELD, nor the SSR back in the day, it was that one general who quite frankly I heard is long dead. On the other hand as much fun as it is picking up a few things I always wanted to learn, every day I'm here is another that I'm being truly wasted."

"I've read your file, you did some hairy missions, and your success rate was a clear 100%"

Harry smiled, "Precisely, now if you want to lock me up again and throw away the key...fine, I've got plenty of time to waste, but that is the word here that's most applicable."

"Waste, you think it's a waste you're here?"

"Exactly Director, you don't have to worry about my motivations either, though no doubt endless tests, a shrink or two and some test missions might help with that belief. So...balls in your court Director Fury."

Fury sat back, then met the ancient and powerful unusually hued eyes of 616, The Specialist of lore and a man that went by the rather unassuming name of Harry. Slowly he started to smile.

Triskellion, Washington DC,

Twenty Or So Years Later

Agent Phil Coulson swiped his lanyard at the door, in a special area of the HQ that only a level 7 could enter and higher. It's as well he was that now, after the battle of New York and his 'Near Death' experience Fury had virtually showered him in benefits. Including putting together a very special team, most of it run by him with full autonomy. And that's the reason he was in the depths of the Triskellion and coming to this exact gym.

The near bunker door slid open, and Phil smirked. The room had at least twenty agents, all in work out gear and the one he was here to see was standing perfectly calmly in the middle, a blind fold on his face. Perhaps to give the others some semblance of a fighting chance. His name the agency over was The Specialist, no one really knew his origins, only that he was older than he looked. Phil happened to know he was a gifted but Fury kept him off the index. He'd proven himself MANY times to be loyal to shield at some hefty provocation now and he was the one you sent if it was FUBAR. Phil had the opportunity to work with him more than most and had found him to be a stellar operative, professional to a T, and actually one of the few good people left in the world. No one really knew what Harry could do, for that's his actual name, and Phil had asked that if he was gifted why he never seemed to use it.

The reply of he would if he had to was oddly sobering.

A blitz of motion signalled the start of the spar, five agents likely all at least level 7's which meant they were very good, practised and experienced went for Harry at the centre. Not being able to see didn't seem like too much of an obstacle for Harry who just swayed and shifted. First take down was an arm bar that must've felt like running into a steel girder, perfectly timed and positioned to take down but not permanently harm. Harry swirled down into a leg sweep upending his sparing partner perpendicular to the floor, a sweep of his arms and a hammer fist knocked the wind out of them as they hit the floor. Realising they had to step up their attack the entire room attacked.

There was no other word for what happened but poetry in motion. Harry seemed to suddenly pick up speed, the blindfold was no hindrance to his movements, slick, fast as all hell in efficient and economical movements he started to cut a swathe through his sparring partners. It didn't' last more than five minutes, with Harry getting hit a few times, but real life was like that. No matter how good you are you needed to take a punch in a fight, especially with multiple opponents, but even then at the end while surrounded by groaning bodies Harry hardly had a hair out of place.

He stood tall, only an average height for a man, not much taller than Phil himself, he tilted his head then the irrepressible lopsided grin made itself known, "Phil!" he said smiling massively. "The reports of your death appear to have been grossly over stated, you don't SEEM like an Inferi at least. Please...tell me I don't have to torch you old friend, that'd suck."

Phil laughed, "No, no, I'm not the living dead. I was down, 40 seconds, but they got me back."

"40 seconds, that's no small amount of time" Harry said, his hand moving to slip the blindfold off his face revealing eyes that defied rational explanation, they were at times TOO green, a sort of emerald shade enhanced somehow by a lot of laughter as Harry never took anything overly seriously, and power – dear god you could TASTE the power looking into Harry's eyes. "Damn though...good to see you man. You got something for me mate, PLEASE tell me you do, I'm BORED!"

Phil chuckled, "As it happens I might've, but it's not your normal MO Harry, so I'm not sure how interested you'll be."

Harry strode over catching a towel sent at him by another agent, flashing them a smile, and on the way helping a few of his sparring partners to their feet. He reached Phil, flashing a large smile, "Phil you'd be surprised what I'm willing to do, since I got back from my little….issue, well, Fury hasn't been using me as much as he used to."

This issue being he'd been thrown into what some would call the old ways, pathways through the world tree where he'd ended up off planet and lost for about 3 years, he'd not said where he ended up. Only that he got back AFTER the battle of New York, which was a shame because Phil had a feeling that the Asgard Loki would've had his ass handed to him by Harry.

"Tell you what, I'll buy you a coffee and tell you all about the team I'm building."

"You said the magic word Phil." Harry smiled.

"I know" Phil grinned back.