More memories came back, and she continued training. After two months of intensive daily sessions with Peggy, her training was cut back to three times a week as Moira was assigned office-level intelligence work. The days stretched out, as she raced between seminars for her induction into S.H.I.E.L.D, listening in on phone taps, and meeting with the team working on her forced amnesia. She spent more time with Peggy in the field, standing back during one mission as her S.O. singlehandedly took out the men guarding the facility.
Just as she settled into her new routine, her workload was increased again, and she only met Peggy twice a week for training. After six months, they only saw each other a few hours once a week, Moira now largely practising on her own around her shifts in the communication labs. She went on more operations with Peggy, however, and her S.O. increasingly trusted her to take charge. Something the CIA were reluctant to allow after years of service, and always with another colleague to chaperone her.
It was more than she could ever have hoped for and, with each passing day, her faith in S.H.I.E.L.D grew. The horrendousness of the past year – the mutants turning her away, leaving the CIA, fighting to regain her memories – started to feel worth it. It felt like Moira was finally where she was meant to be. Doing work that mattered with people who allowed her to grow, and learn and do her job.
It was still a surprise when Peggy announced during one of their training sessions that she would receive her badge the following day. She would become an official S.H.I.E.L.D agent; a specialist. From then on, she would take solo field assignments, sometimes within a team but mostly alone. She would receive Level 3 clearance, gain access to S.H.I.E.L.D's vast data repositories and begin working on high priority missions.
"You've displayed excellent aptitude in all of our fields of training," Peggy reminded, "and given your prior experience with the CIA, we always expected for you to graduate, as it were, in a shorter timeframe than most new recruits."
She smiled warmly, offering her hand to shake. "You deserve this Agent MacTaggert. You've been an exemplary student and I look forward to working alongside you as a colleague. I have no doubt that you will do yourself and the organisation proud."
"Thank you," Moira said genuinely. Coming from the renowned Agent Carter, it was steep praise indeed.
"You'll start taking solo field assignments as soon as you get your pin and badge. We like to have a formal ceremony for recruits once they complete their training."
"Do I get a cool code name?" She asked, only partially jokingly. She'd met Agent 324 the other day, though, of course, Peggy was on a first-name basis with her. There had also been introductions made to Red, Agent 9 and Rapture – the latter of whom introduced himself like they were old friends. Peggy had firmly led her away with a hand on her shoulder when she began to inexplicably return his smile.
"We'll work on it," Peggy assured with a light chuckle, heading for the door as she was due for a board meeting. Moira did not have the clearance to know what the subject matter was.
"Will you be there when I get the badge?" She called after her.
Catching herself on the doorframe, Peggy shot her a playfully exasperated look. "Just what kind of S.O. do you think I am?"
Her training had been more thorough than Moira expected when she agreed to S.H.I.E.L.D's offer of employment. Despite warnings from Peggy and her co-workers, she had naively assumed it would be similar to her induction into the CIA. Instead, she felt as though she had been fashioned into a one-woman army, diplomat and bandit. She'd been taught everything from breaking into a secure facility to talking down a capricious enhanced. In the boxing ring, she could give Carter a run for her money, and Moira even had introductory science lessons in the laboratories in case she needed to deal with explosives, volatile chemicals or some form of contagion during a mission. It had been overwhelming at times, especially as alongside it she underwent experimentation. And yet, she had achieved her goal. Moira was the person she had striven to become in the CIA – someone her superiors were proud of and believed in. She had accomplished it all, in spite of her sex, and the amount of satisfaction she derived from that made it worth the bruises and sleepless nights. It almost made up for losing her memories.
There were only a handful of people at the graduation ceremony. Two scientists, one field agent and three technicians. They all watched, not even attempting to school their looks of awe as Peggy stepped up to pin the badge to Moira's lapel and hand her a badge.
"Welcome to S.H.I.E.L.D, Agent 24." Peggy winked, recognising the pride radiating from her student.
There were no more doubts: Moira belonged there. The badge only formalised it.
As the graduates broke off to talk amongst themselves and drink the complimentary champagne, Peggy discreetly pulled Moira towards the door. "We've assembled the board on an urgent matter."
Moira opened her mouth to apologise for keeping her.
"We need you in with us."
Shutting her mouth, Moira followed her to the boardroom. Waiting until they were beyond the hearing range of the celebrating party they left behind, Moira asked, "Am I getting a mission?"
"If you choose to take it. The choice is entirely yours."
The board was already assembled. At one end of the long oval table sat the founders with Colonel Phillips taking the middle seat at its head. On his left sat Stark, and Carter swiftly took the chair to his right. At the opposite end of the table, S.H.I.E.L.D's director of the past decade – Rick Stoner – waited. He was flanked by Nick Fury and Agent 9, who offered Moira a curt nod as Peggy ensured everyone had been introduced. Stoner was a taciturn looking man, his eyes alert and jaw firmly set. While he hadn't participated in S.H.I.E.L.D's foundation, and therefore did not carry the same reverence as Carter, Stark and Phillips, he had been with the organisation long enough to become a well-respected, if slightly feared, figure within the organisation.
Peggy had later elaborated on his appointment, explaining that after five years of attempting to run S.H.I.E.L.D as a triumvirate of sorts, the founders decided they needed an official director. Someone to run the organisation, take care of administrative matters and allow the founders to pursue their individual causes. Stark still had a company to run, Carter liked to take on the occasional field assignment, and Phillips had gone into semi-retirement after the appointment. Evidentially, much to Peggy's amusement, Phillips' wife had put her foot down and demanded it was time.
Bemused by the polarisation of the table, Moira sat at its centre with her back to the door: the diplomatic option. She looked to Director Stoner, whom she presumed would lead the meeting.
"Congratulations on completing your training, Agent MacTaggert," Stoner said, eying her carefully. His voice was rough, a wariness to it as he slowly ploughed on with his message. "I have been told you made exemplary progress during induction into S.H.I.E.L.D. After reviewing your file, I certainly look forward to seeing how you perform in the field."
"Thank you, sir." Moira nodded.
"Which brings us to today's topic." He continued. "As I am sure you have gathered, by the presence of our esteemed board, it is a mission of particular sensitivity. I have also been reminded to say, on more than one occasion," he rumbled, raising an eyebrow at Agent Carter, "that this is an assignment that you may refuse given its personal nature."
Moira's stomach knotted.
"We are talking, of course, about the so-called X-Men. Now it is my understanding that you have a long and complicated history with this group, correct?"
"Yes, sir."
"And, as such, you have been put forward as an individual with a unique insight into this group and as someone who would be best placed on this mission."
"And might I ask what is the mission? Sir."
He spoke plainly, "To make contact with the X-Men, to make them aware of S.H.I.E.L.D's existence and to discuss the potential threat that is Erik Lehnsherr on the general populace."
Moira silently sent thanks to Howard, who had insisted she learn poker as part of her training's oftentimes random subjects.
Keeping her expression neutral, Moira nodded to signal she had heard him while she mentally raced through the implications. She couldn't go to the mansion, surely Charles would just wipe her memory again. And if Erik was there – well – the man had tried to strangle her to death the last time they saw each other. It was a risk and one that Moira was not keen to take.
"We have been keeping tabs on them ever since you recovered sufficient memories to provide intel on their location."
Moira frowned. "In that case, this mission could already be compromised. If Xavier heard any of your agents watching the house..."
"We worked around that," Phillips assured. "We sent in low-level operatives and gave no details about the X-Men. They were sent on exercises and simple missions in the Winchester area. We also tapped the phones in the local police and fire stations and at the hospital. If an event happens in the vicinity of that mansion, we will be some of the first people to know about it."
"The team who will accompany you, should you accept the mission, have been briefed about the abilities of the mutants you were able to inform us of, and who we expect to be there. You will wait in town as a backup if required and as an on-site source of information. Given what happened the last time you were in the company of mutants, we don't expect you to go to the mansion. Just remain a short distance nearby. Be on hand." Fury explained.
Agent 9 spoke up. "Of course if you chose to, you could be an extremely helpful asset if you accompanied the team to the mansion."
"It's not a position we want to force you into, however." Fury finished for her, ignoring the looks of the people he had seated himself beside. He spoke with authority and, in response, there were no further encouragements for Moira to attend, though she could tell Agent 9 had more to say on the matter.
She shot him a thankful look, her eyes trailing curiously over Fury's face as she did so. He couldn't be older than thirty, and yet he held a place at the director's side. His role had never been expanded upon since their first meeting and, despite the information shared about the director and founders of S.H.I.E.L.D, Peggy hadn't told her anything about Nick Fury. All Moira knew was that he used to work for the CIA and now liaised between the two agencies. In that role, he had somehow carved out a position which enabled him to disagree with the director and a senior agent. Moira didn't know whether to admire him or to look for skeletons in his closet.
Lacking Fury's confidence, she gave a carefully worded answer.
"Even if I'm not going to the mansion, Xavier will be able to see me in the heads of the agents you send. He'll know I'm nearby."
"That's certainly true." Stoner agreed, determined to use that fact to bolster his position that she should enter the mansion with the team. Moira cut him off before he could.
"He will also see that I'm the source of information. He could perceive me as a threat. After all, he's made it clear that he doesn't accept any interference from external agencies. Not after Division X."
"I think I have a way of dealing with that." Stark offered. "We keep Moira separate from the team until after they've made the first contact. She stays in a separate hotel, and we give the lead agent a number to contact in case he needs additional information or advice. That way, when Xavier reads his mind, he'll only have Moira's voice. You can do a few different accents right?"
That had been a fun class.
"That seems a lot of work and effort." Stoner countered. "Do we really think Xavier will attempt to wipe Agent MacTaggert's memory again? In the presence of a whole team of S.H.I.E.L.D agents? After it's already been demonstrated that we can restore them?"
"I highly doubt it," Peggy said, speaking up. "Nevertheless, it might be worthwhile to keep Agent MacTaggert a secret for now. If the X-Men have no way of knowing where we get our intel from, then they might not attempt to manipulate the team's thoughts until they ascertain that. During which time, we can convince them of our motives and demonstrate we are no threat. I think, strategically, keeping Agent MacTaggert back will put us in a stronger decision."
"I agree," Howard said.
"As do I," Philips followed.
"The plan certainly has merits," Fury added, again casting a blind eye to his Stoner's expression.
"Well then, I appear to have been outvoted. Get your report together then get packing. You head out the day after next Agent MacTaggert."
Tightening her seatbelt, Moira rubbed her ears as they began to descend. They were popping from the turbulence.
She was seated to the rear of the plane. S.H.I.E.L.D's welcome team were further ahead with no idea that their contact was on board with them. During her final debrief, Fury had mentioned the team's long experience in initiating contact with exceptionals, but the nature of the so-called X-Men was unusual. As far as Moira knew – with her Level 3 clearance – S.H.I.E.L.D had never approached a group of exceptionals this large before.
Her report was thorough; the team were aware they were meeting a large group of highly powered and possibly hostile mutants. At Moira's suggestion, they would go unarmed and with their badges on display. She left the rest to their discretion. Fury was confident in the team's abilities and she had to be too.
Once they made contact with Xavier, the team would retreat to a hotel. From there, they would call their contact. Moira would be at a guest house a short walk away. Close enough to get to the team if anything went wrong and they needed a specialist agent. Far enough away, she hoped, that Xavier wouldn't be able to hear her if he decided to visit the team.
The knot in Moira's stomach, the one that had wrung of betrayal as soon as she joined S.H.I.E.L.D, felt as heavy as lead. Usually, she could quieten it once she thought of everything Charles had put her through by taking her memories. Today, it was harder.
He had wiped her mind for a reason: to keep organisations like Division X from showing up on his doorstep again. Moira couldn't imagine S.H.I.E.D would try to exploit the X-Men, however. They had exceptionals of their own who were trained and competent agents, old enough to know what they had signed up for. They weren't Division X and didn't depend on the sacrifices of children. The only occasion they might need the X-Men was for intel on Lehnsherr. Even then, she couldn't think Charles would be of much help. He always had dragged his heels when it came to Erik.
Lehnsherr would be furious that Moira had revealed their existence – even though they had already been exposed without her help. There had been a lot of people on the ships outside of Cuba after all. How Charles would react, on the other hand, Moira wasn't sure. He would be cautious of S.H.I.E.L.D, definitely, and probably curious about other exceptionals they'd encountered. Then he'd want to know how Moira got her memories back. How she overcame his powers and their terrible effects.
There was no need for her to feel guilty, she told herself firmly. It was only a matter of time before the X-Men did something so explosive there would be no putting the lid back on the box. S.H.I.E.L.D could be an asset to them, helping to hide their messes and protect them from negative exposure.
The plane touched down and Moira hoped her growing queasiness was just a result of changing altitude pressure.
She took her time disembarking to give the welcome team time to get out of the airport. If they saw her face, Charles might notice it when he read their minds. As a result, Moira was the only person thankful for two men holding up the queue while they heartily discussed yesterday's game. They were oblivious to the huffs and sighs emanating from behind them, as they stood in place blocking everyone's progress. Those sat in the front of the plane proceeded out of the doors while those in the back were left behind.
Keeping her head down, Moira subtly tracked the team off the plane, sighing quietly when they left.
"Hey, move it along would you?" Someone eventually shouted as the men's ignorance persisted.
They looked bashful as they noticed their captive audience, quickly stepping aside for the other travellers to pass.
As the team wouldn't need her for several hours, Moira stopped at the hotel bar for some tonic water in the hopes it would settle her stomach. After finishing her drink and sending two men packing, declining their offers of cocktails and unwanted company, she eventually headed outside to catch a cab.
The guest house was as quaint as she had expected, but it was clean and quiet. After sending the manager on her way, with declinations for afternoon tea, she settled in for a long wait. There was no way to know what was happening at the mansion, not until the team contacted her. Or unless she received an emergency dispatch from tactical control, requesting specialist support.
Tossing her bag onto the bed, Moira decided she would use the free time practically. Some light exercises would get the blood flowing in case there was an emergency call out, and take her mind off the situation she had no control over.
During her training, Carter had arranged for Moira to take electives in martial arts and Tai Chi became her favourite when practising in her spare time, at home or on the road. Her balance had already improved significantly. Besides, there wasn't much else she could do in a small bedroom.
Moving an overstuffed armchair to the side, Moira started to level out her breathing but found it hard to clear her mind. Every time she achieved near concentration she'd wonder what was happening to the team and whether they were safe.
During her brief time with Xavier, she never took the opportunity to understand the depth of his powers. She knew he was uncommonly powerful, even for a mutant. That knowledge hadn't been enough to prepare her for his powers of alteration, however. And not once had she thought those powers would be turned on her. Despite the paranoia his powers sometimes invoked – always uncomfortably aware of the possibility Charles could be present in her mind at any moment without her awareness – she thought him a good enough man to set boundaries he wouldn't cross. Or, at the very least, wouldn't cross with those on his side.
Except, while on paper she worked for Division X, she had never been on their side. Without powers, Moira could never invoke the same level of fascination. She was a passing fancy; which he banished once the novelty wore off. Severing the relationship so completely, Moira wasn't even left with the memories.
A year later, and she still struggled with the idea that her mind was unsecure. Easily breached at any moment. Powerless to stop it from happening. No way of knowing if her thoughts were safe. Just the thought of it, the possibility of Charles rooting through her mind again after he had destroyed it, upset her breathing. With Cerebro, he could do it at any moment.
She wondered how deeply he was probing the other agent's minds, how much he'd learnt about S.H.I.E.L.D. The team were prepared for it and would likely submit, if he took the courtesy of asking first, but it still sat uncomfortably with her. Because, despite the precautions, she knew how powerful he was. How deeply he could delve into someone's thoughts. To the team, Moira wouldn't be a person of interest due to Fury's precautions, but deep down they did know her. She had trained alongside one of the agents before, and she was a regular fixture at headquarters where they were stationed.
To them, their unfocused memories of her were unimportant. For Charles, rooting for the tiniest sliver of information, it would leave her red-handed.
Totalling everything the X-Men had done to her, should have removed her of guilt but it didn't. As she struggled through her exercises, all she could wonder was how he would react. If he would be angry. Betrayed. Uncaring, still, in his thoughts toward her.
She stumbled while shifting into her next posture and angrily cursed herself. There was no reason to feel this way. No blame lay with her. Moira had only acted in self-preservation, to restore what was stolen from her.
Deciding she was too agitated for Tai Chi, Moira moved onto more strenuous exercise to combat her rising anger. Peggy had told her that strength came from clarity of mind, and she needed to keep a level-head if she was going to support the welcome team. They were depending on her as their back up. Emotions would only cloud her capabilities as a specialist agent, which she couldn't afford on her first official mission.
With a sigh, she stretched her arms and prepared to do some push-ups when the door to her room flew open. Subconsciously, her sidearm was drawn and pointed at the figure in the doorway, finger poised on the trigger. She could picture Peggy beside her, looking at her stopwatch with a small smile.
Alex was panting after his mad dash from the mansion but grinned when he saw her.
"Moira!" He greeted warmly.
"Summers?" Moira cried. "What the... how did you know I was here?"
"The Professor told me where to find you. He told me to bring you to the house."
"Bring me?" She repeated indignantly.
Alex nodded, smile fading as she continued to point her weapon at him. He hadn't expected hostility from Moira, who he remembered fondly; even after their disastrous time working together with Division X.
"We need to go, the Professor needs your help. Magneto showed up."
"Who?"
"Erik – that's what he calls himself now. Raven gave him the name." He reminded.
That was right, she thought as the memory resurfaced with relative ease. In the same breath, Ravin had named Alex Havok, Hank Beast and Charles Professor X. Suffice to say, Moira didn't get a nickname.
"What is he doing at the mansion?"
"He's trying to steal our students. Like Shaw did – except, so far, he doesn't seem to be killing any resistors. The Professor," Alex waved his fingers at his temples, "contacted me, and I got out the mansion before they started rounding everyone up. He seems to think Erik has an ulterior motive for his visit."
"Like what?"
Alex grunted in annoyance.
"I didn't really have time to ask questions, I was busy running to get you." He said, irritation thickening his voice. "And would you mind putting the gun down?"
Moira kept it steadily trained on him. "You said Erik was there, and I know Raven is on his side. Prove it's really you."
Frown deepening, Alex struggled to recollect a memory they shared which Raven wasn't present for.
"When we were training, Hank helped the Professor with my powers – you were there with Sean." He recollected. "I remember watching him blow all the glass out the windows when he used his powers. The Professor almost fell over, you didn't even flinch." Alex grinned, despite the situation.
"You always were as tough as nails. And Raven wasn't there for that session – she wouldn't know any of that."
Moira slowly lowered her arms, gun still firmly in hand. "Is the team all right?"
"Oh yeah, we're well matched these days," Alex replied, moving out of the doorframe and into the room. He thought she was talking about the X-Men. "We've been recruiting."
"What are you doing here anyway, I thought you'd gone back to the CIA?" Alex asked.
"I'll tell you on the way."
Alex looked down at her right hand, a movement Moira followed. Her knuckles were turning white from gripping her weapon so tightly.
"You know that won't work on Magneto."
"That's okay, I've got something special for him."
