Ingrid and Fillmore stood on the deck of the Helecarrier, looking out at the city of New York on the horizon.
"What do you think, Ingrid" Fillmore asked.
"I don't know," Ingrid said after a moment of silence and a deep sigh, "I've heard of this guy Fury before, but all of the stuff I'd read was about World War II, and a Sergeant Nick Fury and his Howling Commandos. "
"Maybe this guy is a relative?"
"A relative missing the same eye, and with the same name? Doubt it. No, Colonel Fury here has been alive for a long time."
"That really doesn't change our situation, though, does it?" Fillmore asked.
"No. I mean, I have no problems training to save the world. It's just their methods I don't much care for. And the thought that that bastard Logan will be training us makes my stomach turn."
"You mean to tell me you don't recognize him, Ingrid?"
"Should I?"
"Those claws are a dead giveaway, Ingrid! He's that X-Man they call Wolverine. There's all sorts of rumors about him on the Net. I hear he's gone into rooms filled with two-hundred well armed baddies, and he's the only one who's come out alive again."
"That's something else I don't much care for. This guy is a killer. And...and he could have killed us! What if those middle claws of his had slipped out? We'd be breathing through holes in our necks right now!
"Is that what they're going to train us to do? Kill people?"
Fillmore was quiet a moment, before he spoke, "Ingrid, are you mad about stabbing him?"
Ingrid was silent.
"Ingrid, I know you. You aren't a violent person. You snapped under serious pressure. No one would blame you for that. At least you didn't kill him. And you know to be more careful next time."
Ingrid looked at Fillmore with tired eyes, "Fillmore, I WANTED to kill him. I still want to kill him. That's not like me. I don't go around killing people. But this Wolverine guy, he made me angrier than Parnassus, or Checkmatey, or Sonny, or any of the other nuts we've locked horns with. And he's supposed to be one of the good guys?"
"Look at it this way, Ingrid. If you decide not to join, then he'll probably be strutting around saying that you didn't have the guts to go through with it. Remember? So bust down the door and tell them what's what."
A smile suddenly came to Ingrid's face.
Nick Fury was sitting down to his morning cup of coffee, when the door to his office slammed open. Ingrid Third was standing in the door, and there was fire in her eyes. Fillmore was close behind.
"First of all, where the hell do you people get off kidnapping us? If you wanted my help, you should have come to me directly and asked. That's not so unreasonable. And don't give me that bull about needing to test our abilities, because that's not gonna fly.
"Second, Fillmore and I aren't assassins for hire. I want that clear here and now. We do not kill. Period. End of discussion. If you want our help, then that is a rule that doesn't get violated. If that's a problem, then we walk.
"Third, what the HELL were you thinking, locking us in a room with a known killer like that man. Is it true that he's the guy Wolverine who's all over the news and the Net? If half the stuff I've heard about him is true, he should be locked in a cell and never let out. He's dangerous.
"We have no problems going on your missions to save the world. But we are not going to be treated like kids, and we are not going to be pushed around or intimidated. Got it?"
Fury smiled, sipped his coffee, and then wordlessly gestured to the opposite end of the room. Two men were standing in the shadows of the office. One Ingrid made out as Logan immediately. The other man was much taller, and incredibly muscular.
"Miss Third, allow me to introduce Logan, who you already met, and, I gather, do not like, and a close personal friend of mine, Mr. Steve Rogers, though you might know him better under his alias."
Rogers stepped into the light, and Ingrid nearly dropped dead of a heart attack. He was wearing the red, white, and blue garb of Captain America, and carrying the trademark shield.
"Now, let me make three things clear, Miss Third," Fury said, still smiling, "One, I'm glad you called us on the abduction issue. If you'd let it drop, we would not be having this conversation. We're looking for good agents, not milksops.
"Second, Logan is Wolverine, yes. And half the stuff you've heard about him is true. But half of it is media induced propaganda, anti-mutant rhetoric, or just plain net rumors. Logan is dangerous, but so are the people we're fighting. He's never killed anyone who wasn't trying to kill someone else first, and he's never killed an opponent who had surrendered. You may not like him, but he's the best there is at what he does.
"Third, Mr. Logan and Mr. Rogers will be training you and Mr. Fillmore. We aren't going to turn you into assassins for hire. S.H.I.E.L.D. is a law enforcement agency, not judge, jury, and executioner. But just as police must sometimes take a life in defense of others, so too must S.H.I.E.L.D. But we aren't going to make killers of you. We ARE going to teach you to survive killers and cutthroats.
"So if that's all there is, we're going to have you report to your homes for a day of relaxation. Your school has already been contacted. They were informed that the two of you were approached by a special organization for gifted students, and that's why you are not making classes today. They've also been informed that it's a great honor for the school, so there shouldn't be too much complaint from the superiors. Just whatever complaints your peers have.
"You'll still be attending X high, but during missions, the cover will be that you're participating in a special government program for gifted and talented students."
"Excuse me," Ingrid said, "You said you'd take us home?"
Ingrid and Fillmore were flown home by "Dum-Dum" Dugan in one of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s flying cars, and they entered the Fillmore home to find a tall, white-haired black man in full S.H.I.E.L.D. uniform talking to their parents.
He spotted Ingrid and Fillmore and rose to make introductions, "My name is G.W. Bridge. I've been explaining the situation to your parents. Colonel Fury told me that you should take twenty-four hours to discuss the matter with your parents, and then make your decision."
"Ingrid, how was the training session?" Ingrid's sister asked. Ingrid considered telling her everything, but she was quite certain that her family would never approve of her working for S.H.I.E.L.D. if they knew the details of what had taken place that morning. Instead, she decided to stick to the basic facts.
"Mock battle training. Supposedly, we did better than most of the agents on staff. It was a bit nerve racking, not knowing what was going on, but Colonel Fury and I had a long chat about that. It was nothing really."
"Who will be training you?" Ingrid's father asked.
"That'd be us," a gruff voice came from the door. Ingrid and the others turned to see Logan standing in the doorway, with Captain America standing behind him. The sight of Logan in her home infuriated Ingrid. How dare he come here? He was a monster, a killer. The memory of seeing Fillmore on the floor, those claws at his throat, came to Ingrid, and she felt a dull fury in her head.
Logan continued, "It ain't gonna be easy work, either. These two are some o' the best. And that means they're gonna have it hard. We're gonna make 'em work for it."
"I'm not too comfortable with this," Fillmore's mother said, "I mean, we only just learned about the things that Fillmore and Ingrid have been doing, and frankly, it scares me. I don't think Fillmore should participate."
"It's both of them, or neither," Bridge said, "Our research indicates it won't work any other way."
"What our research shows is that you two have been working in close proximity for such a long time that your bio-rhythms are in perfect sync. Also, we have a system to rate various attributes. Strength, endurance, stamina, charisma, intellect, cognitive reasoning, luck, and precognition.
"Ingrid is well above average in most of the physical attributes, and has decent scores on charisma, intellect, and cognitive reasoning. In short, a reasonably fit agent.
"Fillmore, on the other hand, has above average endurance, excellent confidence, and phenomenal luck. He has his physical strengths as well, but he seems to have an almost supernatural ability to avoid serious harm in any situation.
"Alone, either of them could be a good agent. Together, they are a dynamite combination. But we feel that the two of them should not be separated. Their high performance seems to be based on their close proximity to each other.
"If they were forced to separate, their bio-rhythms would begin to drift apart, and their scores in each area would slip."
It was Fillmore who spoke next, "You always told me that, whatever I did, I should always try to make it count for something. Well, I want to do this."
Ingrid nodded, "That goes double."
Captain America spoke after a long silence, "Mr. and Mrs. Fillmore, Mr. and Ms. Third, we will do everything in our power to ensure the safety of your children. Logan and I will teach them until they're as good as we are, if not better. And you have my personal promise on that."
"And mine to, everyone," a voice came from the doorway. "Names Inferno aka Kaori. Ingrid and Fillmore's new handler," Kaori leaned against the doorway, her green eyes had a spark of amusement within them.
Blade looked miserably at the empty lair. He then looked at Puddles, who was shivering at his feet.
"She left," he sighed to the poodle.
The small dog whined in sorrow.
"She left me. After all I've done for her! She up and left me!"
Blade looked at the picture of Thor on the wall, which he'd been using as a dart board. He shouted at the hole-pocked photo, "This is all your fault! You humiliated me in front of her! Every chance you got, you would sass me, mock me, ridicule me! Why couldn't you have left me alone?"
Silence. Deafening silence.
Blade lowered his head, "Kaori..."