January, 2005; S.H.I.E.L.D. Academy of Operations…
"When I blow the whistle, you will step up to the starting line," the supervisor bellowed. Dark-skinned and stocky, he wore a hat that reminded Ellen of Smokey Bear. "You will then wait until I blow the whistle a second time before starting the course." He turned to face the group of cadets, staring at them like a butcher deciding which piece of meat to carve. "Am I understood?"
"Yes, sir!" Ellen and the dozen others replied. Like everyone else, she wore a long-sleeved navy blue shirt with the S.H.I.E.L.D. logo and grey pants. She'd tied her hair into a bun, and stood at rigid attention.
"I didn't hear you!" the supervisor repeated.
"Yes, sir!" they cried.
Placing the whistle in his mouth, he gave a single, sharp blow. Everyone stepped up to the starting line. Among the group were men and women of various sizes and races; S.H.I.E.L.D. only accepted the best of the best, and more people washed out of the Academy of Operations than the other two academies combined. Even qualifying for entry was just as hard as becoming a Navy SEAL. Some would say harder.
The supervisor whistled a second time, and everyone took off.
Ellen charged forward, overtaking a few of her fellow cadets. They came to the first obstacle, a wooden wall built at a steep incline. Grabbing one of the ropes dangling from the top, she half-walked, half-pulled herself up the wall. Once at the top, she slid down then kept running. Roughly half of the other cadets were ahead of her, but she wanted nothing less than first place. Drawing deep, she applied her lessons from Rumlow and Taskmaster. The next obstacle took the form of a row of logs raised to waist-level. Ellen hopped over them in quick succession, passing a few of the others. Her smaller size actually helped here, as it made her quicker and more agile.
After crawling under barbed wire, she closed in on the end of the course. The final obstacle –a pair of long metal poles mounted over a pool of mud– awaited. Slipping past a willowy redhead, Ellen stepped up to the platform and grabbed one of the poles. Gripping it tightly, she crossed the gap to the other platform. Halfway there, she noticed someone else on the pole to her left. He gave her a quick smirk, and she glared in response. No, he wasn't going to beat her. This time, she'd leave him in the dust.
He landed on his platform a half second before she did, and they both sprinted towards the finish line. The others followed behind, but Ellen ignored them. She was better than them. Only the man running beside her offered proper competition. They closed on the line, giving everything they had, and…
The supervisor blew his whistle as the man's foot crossed the line just before hers.
Ellen swore as she came to a stop. Her heart pounded, and strands of hair clung to her sweat-drenched face. She panted, resting her hands on her knees. The supervisor marked something on his clipboard, then declared everyone's place in the course. "…Ramirez, third place. Pierce, second place. Ward, first place. Good hustle, people!"
Grabbing a plastic water bottle, Ellen unscrewed the cap and poured some on her face. She then guzzled the rest. Grant Ward approached her, chest heaving and underarms dark with sweat. "That was a close one," he said. Normally, he kept his expression solid as stone, but Ellen could see the twinkle in his eye. He enjoyed winning, reveled in beating others who could give him a challenge. In that regard, at least, they were similar.
"Next time won't be so close," she promised.
"I look forward to it."
February, 2005…
Over the following weeks, Ellen learned how to become a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent. Quite a lot of the academy's lessons were similar to her time studying under Taskmaster and Rumlow. But there were differences, especially when it came to consequences. A S.H.I.E.L.D. instructor would stop before seriously hurting her in a sparring match, or give her a lower grade for failing a written exam. HYDRA would break a bone –often several– or lock her in a hotbox for hours.
Where S.H.I.E.L.D. believed in restraint and the good of humanity, HYDRA believed in unrelenting will and the fallibility of the human spirit. Both sides believed they served order, but one was delusional and the other was realist.
At times, Ellen felt tempted to believe in the optimism the academy tried to sell her. Except she knew all too well that the real world failed to live up to such lofty expectations. Yes, there were good people, but there were also far too many bad people. For the ultimate good of the former, the latter had to be wiped clean. Prisons and laws were short-sighted and ineffective. Evil men would keep making evil choices until someone eliminated them.
And then there was Grant Ward.
It didn't take long to identify him as one of the best fighters in their class. Tall and strong, he carried himself with the precision of a finely crafted weapon. He mostly kept to himself, keeping any conversations short and never revealing too much about himself. Normally, Ellen would have found the 'lone wolf' schtick cliché and annoying, but it worked for him. There was also a sense of…something more to him, which piqued her curiosity. It helped that she considered Ward one of the most handsome men she'd ever seen.
There were worse ways to spend her time than watching a gorgeous, square-jawed man with smoldering intensity.
He must have caught her watching him, despite her efforts to remain stealthy about it. Every so often, she caught him glancing at her a second longer than necessary, or glimpsing him in the corner of her eye between classes. It became a cat-and-mouse game, just the sort of thing they were being trained for. An undeniable cord of tension connected them, and it manifested in their classes. They were the best at unarmed combat and weapons skills, by far. The other cadets were skilled, but Ellen and Ward were in a league of their own.
In addition to spying on each other, they each fought to beat the other and become the best. Ward tended to be the better marksman –one time managing to bullseye a bottle cap from 1,000 yards away– while Ellen was the superior hand to hand fighter. Still, they were head-to-head in almost everything.
Ellen's class gathered in the gym, forming a wide circle around the centre. The instructor called her up first, then a scrawny cadet from Detroit named Tayler. Maybe they thought it funny to pair her with someone like that. She may have been short and lean, but also toned from years of intensive training. They took their ready positions, and the instructor blew his whistle.
Tayler actually presented a challenge, showing skill with Karate. That didn't stop Ellen from knocking his ass to the mat with a knee to the gut and a leg sweep.
After soundly beating two more opponents, she cracked her neck and waited for the inevitable. Finally, the instructor said, "Alright Ward, you're up." Ward stepped towards her, not bothering to say anything as he readied himself. Their classmates looked either relieved one of them wouldn't get their ass kicked, or unable to look away from the upcoming spectacle.
Ellen barely noticed them, her attention fixed on Ward. Their growing rivalry had led them to this moment, the invisible cord connecting them taught with tension. Any moment now, it would snap.
The instructor blew his whistle.
They launched attacks against each other, holding nothing back. Ellen moved like a Honey Badger, darting in for a quick strike and coiling around her larger target. Ward moved like a Tiger, using superior strength and aiming for her neck and weak areas. He had reach, while she had flexibility. Their sparring became savage, yet also beautiful in its own way. Both of them were at the peak of human ability, moving gracefully as they fought to bring the other down.
He managed to shoulder-check her to the floor, but she flipped to her feet quick as a blink. He threw a punch at her face. She caught it, twisted, then flipped, wrapped her legs around his throat, and flipped him onto the floor all in one move.
They kept going, even as time slipped away. All that mattered to Ellen was beating her opponent, to prove she deserved the top spot. She didn't know how long they rained blow after blow, kick after kick. Even as she switched styles mid-strike, employing a mixture of Judo and Kung Fu, he switched his styles as well. They were like two equal forces, forever repelling each other.
Finally, the instructor blew his whistle. "We'll call it a draw." Everyone else cried out in disappointment. They would've bet money on the outcome if they had any. "Class dismissed."
Ellen and Ward stood there, drenched in sweat, panting. They stared into each other's eyes, the tension palpable. Eventually, they padded over to the nearest bench and grabbed water bottles and towels. After chugging half her bottle, Ellen decided to test a theory she'd held onto for the last few weeks.
"That was a good fight," she said, gesturing to the centre mat.
He nodded. "Sure was."
"I gotta say, some of your style seems familiar."
Ward eyed her curiously. "Now that you mention it, yours does, too."
"Funny how that works." She leaned back, staring out at the gym as their classmates began filing outside. Now came the interesting part. "I was reading this poem the other day, and one passage stuck out: 'I am a traveler on the path to righteousness, and I came upon a stranger on the road'."
Ward stared at her intently. "…'The stranger called to him and said "I am a traveler on the path, let us walk together'."
Bingo.
"Well, it looks like my theory was right after all," Ellen said.
"Mine, too," Ward replied.
They both looked around the gym, confirmed no one was in earshot, then leaned in and whispered, "Hail HYDRA."
For a long moment, they sat there, staring at each other. The weight of their shared revelation hung over them like a shroud, forming a connection that no one else had. After a prolonged silence, Ellen drank the rest of her water, staring intently into his eyes. "I'd say this just got interesting."
Later that night, she and Ward held a tiebreaker in her bunk, neither of them holding back. He had reach, while she had…flexibility.
Ellen collapsed on top of him, his bare skin warm against hers. "Wow. That was…"
"Yeah," he panted. She could feel his heartbeat against her cheek as his broad chest rose and fell.
After such an intense experience, she barely had the energy to stand. Getting up, she darted into the bathroom and washed up. After Ward did the same, they laid on the bed beside each other and stared up at the ceiling. Her back and thighs ached a bit from his iron grip, and she noted a few scratch marks she'd left on his chest and shoulders.
"I wasn't sure I'd meet any more of us here," Ellen said, enjoying the cold rush of air on her naked body.
"Me neither," Ward said. "I was told this was a deep cover assignment. I'm not supposed to contact anyone but my superior."
"Same."
After another period of silence, he looked at her and asked, "So why did you join?"
Ellen rested both hands on her belly. "I saw how ugly the world is. For a while, all I felt was the crushing weight of my anger and despair. Then I was recruited, offered a chance to better myself. Now I have a purpose, something I can devote myself to. With everything I've been given, I can try to save the world from itself."
"So for you, it's all about the mission?"
"Mhm," she confirmed. Rolling onto her side, she propped her head on one elbow and looked at him. "So what about you?" she asked, tracing his muscles with a finger. "What's ticking under that cool, reserved exterior? Why did you join?"
"My superior," he replied. "He saved me from myself. Offered me a path, just like you. I owe him everything."
"Any regrets?"
"None. You?"
She smirked. "Same." Her eyes wandering, she said, "Looks like someone's ready for another round."
"Well, you can hardly blame me," he countered. "I guess I still got some pent-up energy from that fight."
"Well, we'll just have to do something about that, won't we?" Ellen asked, leaving a trail of kisses down his chest and abs.
March, 2005…
"Thanks, Eugene," Ellen told the balding man staring up at her. He sat in a metal chair at the table in the centre of the square room, hands in his lap. She sat on the edge of the table, her leg brushing against his. They'd been talking for the better part of an hour, everything recorded by the instructors. Ellen leaned in so close her lips almost touched his cheek, then whispered into his ear, "You've been a big help."
She hopped down and walked out into the hallway, closing the door behind her. A series of doors, identical to hers, lined the walls. In each was a small, square room with a target each cadet had to acquire intel from. The instructor, a rail-thin man with a pockmarked face, noticed her exit and approached. "Well?" he asked.
"The target works at a hardware store," she explained, clasping her hands. "His brother recently hung himself in his cell after being detained by Homeland Security for suspicious activity. The target used his employee access to acquire the necessary materials to make an explosive device. He planned on attacking the local Homeland Security office as revenge for his brother's death." She gave him all the specifics she'd learned, then waited for his evaluation.
The instructor regarded her for a moment, then said, "Not bad, Pierce." Clicking his pen, he checked off something on his clipboard. "Not bad at all. You even found out the exact quantities of the bomb parts and where he's building it."
"Thank you, sir." Ellen spared a glance at the door she'd used, then asked the question which had nagged at her throughout the exercise. "Sir, are these targets agents playing a part, or actual suspects?"
"Trade secrets, Pierce. Ours is not to question why."
She resisted the urge to roll her eyes. S.H.I.E.L.D. had no problem, it seemed, deceiving their own people. Part and parcel for a spy agency, but it still irritated her. However, she had the distinct satisfaction of knowing her connection to HYDRA granted her unfettered access no other agent would have. Eventually, no secret would be out of her reach. She might even find some of Nick Fury's dirty laundry.
A door further down the hall opened, and Ward stepped out. He gave his report to the instructor, having gleaned everything from his target, too. "I had to get a little…creative," he said. It was then Ellen noticed his knuckles were bloody, his brow gleaned with a layer of sweat. His interrogation had been far more 'involved' than hers. "The target's resting." The instructor nodded, checked something on his clipboard, then walked away to wait for the rest of the cadets to finish.
Things had changed between them since the day they discovered each other's loyalties to HYDRA. Their dynamic in training didn't change; they still competed –more against each other than anyone else– and the tension still grew day by day. The difference came after lights out, when they'd discreetly meet in each other's bunk to release all that pent-up tension. It did wonders for Ellen's mood, and she suspected he felt the same.
"So let me guess," Ellen said as she and Ward left the interrogation section, "your target was uncooperative?"
"You could say that," he replied. "Everybody has pressure points that you can exploit."
"Good to know. I didn't even have to lay a finger on mine," she said. "It's the oddest thing; I just smile and touch someone's shoulder, and suddenly they want to tell me their life story." Ward didn't look impressed, so she decided to tease him some more. "You should probably smile more. Let people see past your 'government goon' persona. Maybe then you wouldn't have to resort to such…hands-on tactics."
"I'm not here to make friends," he muttered, sticking to his rugged, bad-boy charm like a robot sticking to its programming. Which, Ellen considered, wasn't too far off the mark. "I'm here to do my job."
"And if that job involves you bonding with a teammate, emotionally or otherwise? You can't punch or torture everyone you meet."
Ward stopped as they reached a balcony overlooking the main campus' atrium, staring down at her with lips pressed tight together. "What do you want me to say?" He kept his voice low, even though no one stood in their immediate vicinity. "Are you trying to imply there's something more between us? Is that it?"
Ellen chuckled, crossing her arms. "Not at all. Look, you're cute, and I give you top marks for your performance. But it's like you said: you're here to do a job, just like I am. I just think your laser focus might wind up hamstringing you in the long run. I'm not the jealous type, and I know you're probably going to break a lot of hearts once we leave this place. But how long before one of those poor, unfortunate souls gets past your armour?" He looked down at the floor below, fingers gripping the railing tightly. "You're one of the best, and I humbly admit you're better than me at a lot of things. But your handlers might not have prepared you for everything a mission like this entails."
"You don't know what you're talking about," Ward retorted. Even though he was pissed, he still maintained a calm exterior that most others at the academy wouldn't see past.
"I've watched a lot of movies," Ellen said. "I think I know what I'm talking about."
He shook his head, either from exasperation or amusement. Probably both.
"Hey, Pierce!" a voice called. Ellen turned to see Claire, a fellow cadet from one of the other groups, approaching. They'd interacted a few times, but nothing more than polite chatter while walking in the hall.
"Hey Mahoney," Ellen greeted with a nod. "How's it going?"
"Good!" Claire had a plastic bag in one hand, which she held out in offering. "I just wanted to thank you for loaning me this. My sister loved it."
Minor alarm bells rang in her head, and she surreptitiously scanned the area. A few other cadets were walking around, but none so much as looked her way. She couldn't identify an immediate threat, so whatever the other woman was up to, she worked alone. Ellen had never loaned her anything before, which either made this a trap, a test, or a message. Affecting a smile, she accepted the bag. It held something solid and rectangular, like a plastic box or case. "No problem. I'm glad she enjoyed it."
Claire smiled, then said, "She really did. Although I think she might have scratched the disc, so you might want to check it. Well, I've gotta get going, so catch ya later!" She walked away without another word.
Ward's eyes passed over the bag, then back at Ellen's face. "Should I be getting to a minimum safe distance?"
"Probably not. Come on, let's find somewhere out of the way." Remaining casual to any observer, they turned away from the balcony and found an out of the way spot with almost no foot traffic and in the blind spots of any cameras. Opening the bag, she found a copy of The Princess Diaries on DVD. Furrowing her brow, she took it out. "Might have scratched the disc," she muttered, remembering Claire's words. Opening the case, she popped out the disc and flipped it over.
Written in black sharpie were the words 'Storage room, southwest corner of training facility.'
"Nice little message," Ward commented.
Ellen grunted in agreement, putting the disc back in and closing the case. She wracked her brain over who might send such a cryptic message, then took another look at the title of the movie. The realization made her roll her eyes in disgust. "And I'm pretty sure I have an idea who sent it."
"Well, if it's from our mutual friends and you get caught, you're on your own."
"Aw, such a romantic," Ellen teased. He shook his head, then disappeared down the hall. Shoving the DVD back in the bag, she casually made her way to the training facility. The squat structure stood just 100 feet away from the main building, and was normally filled with cadets and instructors. But at this hour, the number of people started dropping off as everyone retired for the night.
Reaching the southwest corner of the facility, Ellen found the storage room and stepped inside. Mid-sized with a low ceiling, the racks lining the wall were filled with gloves, pads, training staves, first aid kits, and various and sundry exercise equipment. Standing against the far row of shelves –out of initial view through the door– stood none other than Rumlow. A hand hovered over the handle of a tactical knife. With his training, he could have drawn and thrown it before a target even realized.
He visibly relaxed upon seeing her. Closing and locking the door behind her, Ellen tossed the bag at his feet. "Really, Rumlow? 'Princess Diaries'?"
The corner of his lip curled in a smirk. "At least it helped you recognize it was me who sent it."
"So what the hell do you want?"
"Your old man sent me here to give you a heads-up," he replied.
"And why couldn't he just tell me himself?"
Rumlow shrugged. "I don't ask, I just do. Fury's putting in a proposal to form a new rapid-response tactical unit. Fully armed and equipped, authorized for worldwide deployment. Your old man's going to make sure I get named unit commander."
"Congratulations. Want balloons?" Ellen snarked.
"Yeah sure, and make me a fucking lemon cake while you're at it."
She wrinkled her nose. "Lemon? What's wrong with you?"
"Anyway," he growled, clenching his jaw in annoyance. "I'm letting you know that you'll be one of the first recruits."
"Was this your idea, or my dad's?"
"His," Rumlow admitted. "But I'd be lying if I said I wouldn't have picked you either way. Only the best of the best will be joining, and after all, you're better than any of the herds of sheep in this place. I did make you that way." There it was: that look he got, where he smiled at her like a carpenter admiring a beautiful chair he'd carved. It used to make Ellen shiver, but now it only pissed her off. But anger was a useful tool, one she'd learned to master years ago. He really had trained her well.
"Well, thanks for the generous offer. Now I have something to look forward to."
"Glad I could help," he practically snarled, more than a match for her biting sarcasm.
Ellen let herself out, but not before saying, "Always a pleasure, Rumlow."
April, 2005…
The physical fitness supervisor crossed her arms behind her back. "Cadets, today's exercises will be overseen by someone who hardly needs an introduction. She's a long-time veteran of S.H.I.E.L.D. and holds the most records in every combat category we have. You name a martial art, she's got a black belt in it. You name a country, she's been there. Today, it is my honour to introduce Agent Melinda May."
The supervisor moved aside, and Agent May graciously stepped forward. She was quite attractive, and had the bearing of a seasoned warrior. Despite her professional demeanor, she gave a warm smile, nodding to her audience.
All the assembled cadets gave an enthusiastic applause, while Ellen could only stare, dumbfounded. She'd been following Agent May's legendary accomplishments since before joining S.H.I.E.L.D., but hadn't seen her in person since that day in Bogotá. The person she remembered had been larger than life, more like Princess Leia or a pink Power Ranger than a real person. To be in the same room with her after ten years –not as a victim and rescuer, but as colleagues– felt so surreal.
"Thank you, Agent Willard," Agent May said, indicating the supervisor. "Don't think I didn't notice you trying to make me forget about that $50 you owe me with that intro."
Ellen and the others laughed.
The older woman's expression grew more serious. "As S.H.I.E.L.D. agents, it's our responsibility to identify, eliminate, and contain threats to global security. Since you're all here and not at the other academies, you'll be the ones venturing into the field. Our job requires us to get our hands dirty. I'm not going to sugarcoat it: you will see people die. I like to think I've done the best job I can, but even I've failed to protect everyone. I've lost friends, people I cared about. But that's the job. We take the hits, and we keep getting back up."
The other cadets nodded solemnly, while Ellen shared a surreptitious look with Ward.
"So," Agent May said. "One of the most important lessons you'll ever learn is to trust your teammates. Some of you might end up becoming Specialists and going solo, but you still need to be able to rely on the person beside you. Now, for a demonstration. Which of you are the best fighters?"
The supervisor smirked and called out, "Pierce, Ward! You're up."
The other cadets parted, letting Ellen and Ward step forward.
Standing with her feet shoulder-length apart, Agent May nodded to the two of them. "Try to take me down."
'Well,' Ellen thought, 'this should be fun.'
With an unspoken agreement between them, they attacked like a pair of hounds released from their cages. Ward went first, coming in high with a right hook, while Ellen followed by going low with a leg kick. Agent May caught Ward's wrist, twisted it behind his back while avoiding the kick, then kicked him away. Ellen jumped and threw all her power into a punch aimed at her opponent's sternum. Agent May blocked the attack with both arms, then delivered a pair of gut punches that sent Ellen staggering.
Ward renewed his attack, actually managing to drive Agent May back a few steps. She threw a left hook at his jaw, but he ducked and surged forward, wrapping an arm around her neck while grabbing her head in a rear naked choke. Agent May grabbed the arm around her throat, then kicked her legs high and slammed them down, using the momentum to throw Ward over her shoulder and slam him onto the floor. She wasted no time in executing a forward somersault that ended with her smashing the heel of her outstretched foot into his gut, eliciting a pained grunt.
Ellen cracked her neck, then charged forward as Agent May got back on her feet. She leaped onto the older woman, latching on with her legs and using the leverage to flip onto her shoulders. Clamping her thighs around Agent May's throat, Ellen hammered her head with punch after punch. Normally, she held back while sparring; given her HYDRA training, she would kill someone if she let loose. Even so, just about all the cadets in her class had suffered severe bruising and injured egos after fighting her.
But with a target as skilled and dangerous as Melinda May, Ellen fed all her power into her strikes. This might only be training, but she also wanted to impress one of her idols.
To her satisfaction, Agent May grunted –both in pain and surprise– from her assault. Ward chose that moment to join in, but the older woman managed to whirl around just as he threw his punch. His fist perfectly struck the base of Ellen's spine. She gasped, her entire body radiating pain from that single spot. Her grip loosened enough for Agent May to pry Ellen's legs loose and throw her off. She crashed onto the floor with a grunt, her lower back pulsing from the hit. Ward grunted in sync with a few solid-sounding impacts, then landed right beside her.
He grunted and winced with every breath, almost looking as sore as Ellen felt. They looked up at Agent May, who stood with hands on her hips and eyebrow arched in silent invitation. Sharing a glance, Ellen and Ward tapped out.
"I've gotta say, I am impressed," Agent May said, helping them both stand. "You both show great talent. And thank you for the demonstration."
"You call that a 'demonstration'?" Ward asked incredulously.
She nodded. Turning to address the rest of the cadets, she explained, "As I'm sure you already know, these two are excellent hand-to-hand combatants. But notice how they came at me: one on one, like the other person wasn't even there. When you fight as part of a team, you work with each other, pairing strikes and coordinating reactions. I'm gonna show you several techniques to do just that, so find a partner and pair up."
Over the next few hours, they learned the intricacies of fighting with a partner, against a single person or a group of people. The exercises mercifully ended, and Ellen breathed a sigh of relief. As the other cadets filed out of the gym, she stayed behind and approached Agent May.
"Cadet," the older woman greeted upon noticing her. "Hope I didn't go too hard on you earlier."
'You should have met my other teachers,' Ellen thought. With an amiable smile, she replied, "I never expected anything less from you, ma'am."
"Nice to know I live up to my reputation."
Ellen said, "I just wanted to say thank you, for saving my life. I never had the opportunity before now."
Agent May regarded her with more focus, tilting her head. "I thought you looked familiar."
"We met about ten years ago, in…"
"Bogotá," she finished, a glint of recognition in her eyes. "The embassy. You're Secretary Pierce's daughter, aren't you?"
Ellen nodded. "What you did that day, it was…it was incredible. I wouldn't be alive if it weren't for you. "
Agent May took her hands in hers and smiled. "I'm glad. Being a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent comes with a lot of sleepless nights and a lot of pain. But knowing that what we do makes a difference? That makes it all worth it. I wasn't exaggerating when I said you've got excellent skills. I think you've got what it takes to be a great agent someday."
"That means a lot coming from you, ma'am."
"I'm glad we had this talk. And I'm glad to see you're doing well."
Ellen thanked her again before walking out of the gym. At least there was one good S.H.I.E.L.D. agent.
June, 2005…
When Ellen stepped into her bunk after an exhausting day that left her with countless bruises and a ringing headache, she didn't expect anyone to be waiting for her.
Turning on the light, she froze upon seeing a silhouetted figure standing in front of the window. In that first half-second, she thought it might be Rumlow, or even her father. But then she registered the black trench coat, bald head, and leather strap for an eye patch. Standing at attention, despite how sore she felt, Ellen said, "Sir."
Nick Fury turned and regarded her with a bemused smile. "It's okay, Ellen. You can drop the 'sir' stuff when it's just the two of us. I get enough people calling me that during the day, it gets kind of exhausting."
Ellen smirked, then relaxed her stance. "I wasn't expecting to see you. Here. After hours."
"I'm not sure if anyone's told you, but I work in the espionage business." Crossing his arms, he said, "Official visits always come with a bit too much ceremony and handshaking; plus, it's handy to keep my skills sharp. Spending all my time behind a desk has its perks, but it's not as exciting as being in the field."
"Well, consider me suitably impressed, Mr. Fury," she said, addressing him like she did as a kid. "So, what's up?"
"When you first enrolled here, I promised your dad I'd keep an eye on you."
Though she took great pains not to show it, Ellen's mind screamed in panic as a pit opened in her gut. Nick Fury was the single most paranoid, capable spy on the planet. Her father, Rumlow, and all of her trainers and superiors in HYDRA considered him their most dangerous enemy. For good reason, Ellen knew. The thought of him regularly –or even periodically– watching her or asking the instructors about her chilled her to the bone. She'd made great effort to maintain her cover and not let anything slip. Apart from Rumlow's unannounced visit months ago and meeting Ward, she hadn't had any contact with other HYDRA agents. Her cover should have been ironclad, but when Nick Fury poked his head in, there needed to be no doubt.
"Should I be worried?" Ellen asked, speaking in a playful tone.
He shook his head. Then, "Well, maybe a little." He didn't say it like a threat, more like a joke, so she snorted in amusement. "Your dad was a little worried about you, but I think that comes with his job description."
Ellen suspected that was only a front. He knew she could handle anything, given her training. More than likely, he hadn't informed her of Fury's watchful eye because he treated it like the ultimate test. If she could keep such a discerning and paranoid man fooled, she could lie to anyone.
"Anyway, I told him he didn't have anything to be worried about. Your performance here has been nothing short of exceptional."
"Thanks, that means a lot."
"Your combat scores are some of the highest we've ever seen, second-highest in your class." She would have been the top combatant, but Ward managed to edge her out. "Espionage marks are just as impressive, and I'm told you've learned to speak eight different languages."
She shrugged. "I like to think I'm focused and motivated."
"That you are," Fury agreed. "The reason why I decided to drop in is because I've got an offer for you." Here it was, the mention of the new unit Rumlow told her about. "I'm putting together a new tactical unit. It's gonna be called Special Tactical Reserve for International Key Emergencies, or S.T.R.I.K.E."
"Wow. We really love our acronyms, don't we?"
Fury chuckled. "It's high-time we had a dedicated counter-terrorism response force, and this unit will be the spearhead. Only the best agents are being considered to join. While it's not exactly normal for someone fresh out of the academy to receive such an elite assignment, I think you've got what it takes to make a difference."
Ellen feigned surprise, blinking while taking a moment to form a response. "I…I don't quite know what to say. I'm honoured you even considered me."
"Let me ask you something: why did you join S.H.I.E.L.D.?"
She remembered one of her HYDRA instructors back in that abandoned town in West Virginia, and what she'd said about deceit. "The best way to lie is to add elements of truth. It's easier to remember, and easier to pass off."
Rather than say 'I joined to infiltrate your organization and subvert it for HYDRA's mission', Ellen said, "Because I learned a long time ago that the world is an ugly, violent place. Bad guys get away with bad shit, and innocent people get hurt. I overcame my demons after what happened in Colombia, and I feel like I have the ability to change things for the better. Joining S.H.I.E.L.D. is the most logical step on that path."
Fury nodded, regarding her for a few moments. "You went through something terrible, and I can't tell you how glad I am you moved on from that. And it's like you said, we all have the ability, even the responsibility, to change things out there. You're under no obligation to accept my offer, but I feel like it'll be the best use of your talents."
She paused, pretending to think it over. Then, she said, "If joining this S.T.R.I.K.E. unit is the best way for me to make a difference, then I accept."
He smiled. "Good. I'm glad."
'You won't be the only one,' Ellen thought.
A week after that conversation, she stood alongside all the graduating cadets of her class. On a warm, sunny day late in June, they gathered in the atrium of the main building, surrounded by all their instructors. Nick Fury paced in front of them, his black trench coat swirling around him like some sort of cape.
"S.H.I.E.L.D. was founded as an idea. After the Second World War, the world was broken. Our greatest hero was gone. But a few brave souls, who had the privilege of knowing that hero, honoured his sacrifice by laying the groundwork of what would become this organization. Its mandate: to protect the world, no matter the cost. No challenge was too difficult, no sacrifice too great."
Until they recruited Arnim Zola and other German scientists. Not for some grand, heroic aim, but to enhance the gluttonous pride of the United States and win the Cold War. Fury could preach nobility until the sky fell. Ellen knew the truth: the world had been broken after the war, but it never stopped being broken. Evil people were keeping it that way, and they wouldn't stop until they were in the ground.
HYDRA was the necessary course correction for humanity.
"We are the shield that protects the innocent," Fury continued. "We are Sin Eaters, taking the darkness into ourselves so others can live free and happy. Safe. S.H.I.E.L.D. was founded by brave heroes, and it has continued to ensure peace through the actions of more brave heroes. That is where our strength comes from. One person can make the difference in any war, but that person can accomplish anything when they become a part of something bigger. Something necessary."
He stopped pacing and turned to face them, hands clasped behind his back.
"Today, you all graduate this academy. You are now full S.H.I.E.L.D. agents. You've become part of something bigger than yourselves. As Director, it is my honour to welcome you into the fold. And I want to say this to each of you: Thank you for your service. I know you'll make all of us proud."
Ellen and Ward joined everyone else as applause broke out. They shared a knowing look, the look of people who knew the truth about reality when everyone around them lived in a deluded dream.
Each of the graduating cadets walked up to Fury and shook his hand after receiving their S.H.I.E.L.D. badges. He gave Ellen a nod, and she smiled in return. Afterwards, they were given their first assignments. Ward became a Specialist, with the privilege of being sent on solo missions for infiltration, espionage, sabotage, assassination. Whatever S.H.I.E.L.D. needed him to do.
As expected, Ellen became one of the first recruits for Rumlow's new S.T.R.I.K.E. unit. She tried not to show her distaste as she shook the arrogant bastard's hand. His warm smile almost looked genuine. She knew better.
Once the ceremony finished, everyone split into groups to mingle.
"You've got a visitor, Princess," Rumlow told her, gesturing to the courtyard. Ellen headed out the front doors. Along the way, she saw Ward conversing with an older man. He had a receding hairline and an amiable smile. He gripped Ward's shoulder, probably commending him for his graduation. She recognized him as John Garrett, a popular agent with a plaque on the Distinguished Service monument in the academy.
Walking out the door, Ellen enjoyed the warmth of the sun on her skin. Standing outside a parked Suburban was her father, arms crossed and beaming. She jogged over to him, wrapping him in a tight hug. "I'm so glad you came!"
"Me, too. I had some free time. No way I'd miss this." He then whispered in her ear, "Hail HYDRA."
"Hail HYDRA."
Shoutout to all my fellow Ward fans!
I don't care what anyone else says. Agents of Shield is canon to the MCU. Movie actors play their same characters, the show follows in the wake of movie plotlines, and it's an essential cog in the machine that is the Marvel universe.
Among other things, the MCU's been doing a good job with strong, kickass female lead characters and –most recently– strong, kickass Asian lead characters. Agents of Shield beat the movies to both of those, with Quake, May, Bobbi, Yo-Yo, and many others. Not trying to diminish the movies' accomplishments, but it still bugs me that AoS and the other shows pre-Disney + were swept under the rug and forgotten by Marvel.
On another note, I always wondered how HYDRA agents identified each other in the field, since it was divided into unique cells and anonymity was the key. You couldn't just say 'Hail HYDRA' to everyone you met. So, I took a cue from The Mummy Returns and created a code phrase that agents would use to scope each other's loyalties.
"If I were to say to you 'I am a stranger from the East, seeking that which is lost…' " "Then I would reply that, 'I am a stranger traveling from the West. It is I who you seek'."