When several agents flooded out of the stairwell into the parking garage, Miranda still hadn't moved. She was sitting back on her hands, rocks biting into the heels of her palms. Nothing about what had just happened made any sense. The dark cotton shirt she wore stuck to her skin with sweat. The empty gun clips lay discarded beside her.

She watched as two young technicians slowly approached the dead woman.

"Oh she's dead alright." Miranda wiped a dirty hand over her face. "She hasn't taken a single breath since I got here."

"Eavers? You good?"

Miranda looked back over her shoulder to Sam walking toward her. He reached a hand out and she took it, happy for the anchor. "Man, I don't know what I am."

"What the hell happened here?" he asked, his eyes immediately finding the body of the woman.

"It was like nothing I've ever seen before."

The lie comes easy. As it always does.

Something solid shoves hard enough against her shoulder, hot bolts of pain struck through her chest. Gasping, she stumbled.

"What the hell were you thinking?" Bucky snarled. "That shot was too risky. What if you had hit me instead?"
Teeth bared Miranda twisted to face him, her hand cradling her aching shoulder. "It was a non-lethal round. Worst case scenario you'd be waking up an hour from now with an Icer hangover from hell."

"It was a necessary shot, Buck. You know that," Sam said gently.

"I said I was handling it," Bucky flexed his metal hand, the soft wir of the machinery just barely audible.

"I'm just doing my job, Barnes. You guys requested a specialist. That's what you got." Miranda bent to pick up the empty magazines at her feet. "If your PTSD is too much-"

"Hey guys!" A small voice called from across the parking garage. The glare Miranda turned on the technician was enough to send the girl back a step. "I-uh-think you guys should take a look at this."

"This discussion will be continued later," Bucky growled. His broad shoulder bumped hers as he passed between Sam and Miranda, making no attempt to avoid her.

"No," she bit out. "It will not."

As she moved to follow, she could hear Sam sigh behind her. "They don't pay me enough to deal with these children."

The technician looked tiny standing beside the Winter Soldier in an unassuming blouse and dark rimmed glasses. Her cheeks were flushed a bright pink. She was using the pen in her hand to point to parts of the woman's body as she spoke, her words becoming clearer as Miranda came closer.

"—looks like it was a part of some kind of satanic ritual, if you ask me."

Bucky looked up to meet eyes with Sam, a brow raised. "Seen anything like this before?"

The woman that lay before them was young. Maybe mid thirties. Her dark hair was a corona around her head, arms crossed neatly, eyes open. Someone had taken a knife to her bare arms and legs, carving dark red symbols into what had previously been a perfect canvas. The significant pool of blood that had gathered around the body had been used to ink in an odd sort of pentagram. It had only been half drawn, as if Miranda's arrival had pulled the creature from its labor.

Miranda swayed slightly at the sight of it. The flash of a camera popped once, twice. She took a step back, trying to gather herself. She looked up to see Bucky watching her, eyes narrowed. Miranda closed the curtains on any evidence of expression on her face. She clenched her fists hard and the pain from the tips of her nails brought her back to herself. Moving to the opposite side of the small gathering, she squatted down, inspecting the shapes cut into the girl's skin.

"I don't recognize the symbols," the technician said, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose when Miranda looked up at her. "But once I get her back to the lab, I plan on digging a bit deeper into that."

The line of blood that circled behind Miranda was a dark crisp line. Whatever tool that had been used to draw it had been razor sharp. The image of the obsidian creature flashed across the backdrop of her mind. Its elongated body. The length of talons that formed its fingers.

"I don't know…" A nearby whisper slipped through her thoughts. "I don't think that's her."

"I'm telling you." A female voice whispered back, the words forceful with intent. "That's her."

"Are you sure?" The man responded, still questioning. "With a name like 'The Dutchman' I would have thought it would be a man." Miranda couldn't hold back a smirk. Men were all the same. "But who else would have been able to make that shot from over two miles away? They say The Dutchman never misses."

Bucky shifted slightly. Clearly, she was not the only one having picked up on this conversation. Nor the lack of mention of the other sniper currently in company.

"I'm telling you. I did her entrance exam. Her paperwork is in my office. 'Alias: The Dutchman.'"

"Karmin. Are you just trying to look cool again? Ouch. Hey! What did I say about smacking me like that."

"I can do it whenever I please. But seriously. Honest to God truth. That's her. Go ask her yourself if you don't believe me."

There was a pause in the conversation, and finally from behind her came the soft crunch of shoes on concrete. She huffed a desperate laugh, silently pleading for him to turn around and head back to where he came from.

"Excuse me."

The technician who had still been speaking with Sam and Bucky hushed, her focus turning to the new comer. Setting one knee carefully on the floor to avoid disturbing the scene, Miranda twisted to look up at the young man. He looked to be in his twenties. Maybe a little younger than her.

"Yes?"

He hesitated, clearly having lost momentum aftering coming face to face with her. "Um. My friend and I are having a bit of a disagreement, and I wanted to settle it."

A long pause stretched out between them and she made no attempt to fill it.

"Are you, uh." He reached up to rub the back of his neck, doubt clear as day on his face. The girl, Karmin, snickered from behind him, though she quieted when Miranda's gaze flicked to her. Sure enough, it was the girl who had given her a full physical examination when she had come into town three weeks ago. His voice was quieter when he spoke again. Like to say her alias aloud would divulge one of the world's greatest secrets. "Are you 'The Dutchman?'"

Miranda could do little to smother the smirk that surfaced at her own words. "Will I be starring in your twisted midnight fantasies if I say yes?"

A deep red flush seeped up from his collar to claim his features.

It pleased her greatly to embarrass him. "If you guys have some sort of wager over this, you better pay that girl her dues. I don't think much of a man who won't keep his word."

He nodded once before turning abruptly and retreating. Karmin could barely contain herself. "Damian! You idiot. I didn't think you were going to actually do it!"

"Why The Dutchman?" Bucky asked from behind her. "It makes no sense."

The smirk on her lips became deliciously wicked as she turned back to him. "Wouldn't you like to know."

Agitation flared on his features but Sam stepped between them before he could respond. "Miranda. What exactly happened here. Did you let him get away?"

"Let him get away." She repeated slowly before standing up. She gestured towards the stairs. "I was headed down to meet up with you guys. I was about three floors up from this one when I heard her scream."

"That's not possible."

All eyes turned to the technician, who blinked. "She's been dead for hours. Look at her eyes. At the cloudiness. And based on the stiffness of her body. Her temperature. She's been dead for a few hours."

"Well." Miranda put her hands on her hips. "I heard someone scream."

"Maybe someone else came onto the scene before you? But ran when they saw her?" Sam offered.

"I don't know," Miranda looked down at the woman. "The scream cut off so abruptly, like someone had silenced her. Or something."

"Something?"

"Whatever killed her, or at least whatever I had come across, it definitely wasn't human."

"I doubt that whoever posed her and cut these symbols into her skin would have time to do so before you made it down a few flights of stairs. And the precision of the lines in what there is of this pentagram...they took their time." The technician asked.

Miranda blinked, thinking back. It had all occurred in a matter of minutes. It wouldn't be possible…

"And more importantly, where did he go?" Bucky asked.

"He disappeared."

"Disappeared?" The technician clarified. "Like a ghost?"

Or a demon, Miranda thought to herself.

A man in a crisp dark suit strode toward them from across the garage. "If you guys want to keep this thing in house, you better wrap it up quick. The local PD will be here any minute."

"Yessir," the technician nodded. "We are just about finished here."

A black van rounded the corner and parked. Two men got out of the back, pulling a body bag with them. Faintly, Miranda could make out the ghosted image of an eagle on its front.

SHIELD.