Fury couldn't believe what he was seeing. He looked up and down the craft, trying to find wings, or at least some form of jet engine. If it was there, he couldn't see it. It may be that it was some sort of power generator, maybe a nuclear core of some sort? But his heart still said that this was some sort of ship. The yellow covering towards the front was emblazoned with what could be a military symbol (his gut told him that it was meant to be a twinkling or exploding star). This thinned to minimal yellow rails along the top, and on the bottom left and right. The main body of the ship looked more practical – some sort of tubing. It was unlikely to be piping in the sense that he'd worked with, but the principle was probably the same, transferring different types of energy around different parts of the craft. The colourful exterior was probably intended to make an impression – probably not for something as practical as a source of power.
"Nick!"
Snapped out of his trance, he looked towards his former superior, standing behind one of two rails running perpendicular in the back corner of the hangar, fencing Buchanan-Barnes into a small, secure area. Fury was beckoned towards him.
As he joined Buchanan-Barnes behind the rail, the older man pressed a button on his belt, and a square of the floor, extending just beyond the rail in each direction, descended.
Fury wasn't the least bit surprised any more.
Lights came on in what Fury could only think to describe as the basement, a room that looked exactly the same size as the hangar. It seemed logical that this would allow the ship to be moved underground.
A door was already open behind them. Fury craned his neck downwards – there were no windows in the corridor, of course, but the walls were cleanly metallic, with bright fluorescent lights.
Fury and Bucky sat in a spartan meeting room, decorated only by a basic wooden table and a handful of chairs. There was a photograph of the president on the wall, and a potted plant nearby.
"There's no way humans built that thing."
"Good observation. Unfortunately, no human seems to have been able to fly it either."
Fury shook his head, struggling to take all this in. Buchanan-Barnes grinned.
His hair was tidy, if longer than military grade, and he had a strong, chiselled but professional face. He was evidently having fun playing with his protégé, but there was plentiful evidence of his military discipline.
"Is there more to this place?"
"Well, if you go back into the corridor, and walk another two hundred yards," He pointed back towards the corridor, further along than they had come, "you'll reach reception."
Fury sat perfectly still, not just biting his lip but furiously chewing it. He held his hands on the table in front of him, the model of a good army officer.
His head was spinning – mentally he wasn't really here. A thought crossed his head – maybe he was still in Korea, and this was some form of advanced interrogation, designed to throw him off balance so he could be tricked into revealing military secrets. Given the bizarre things he'd just seen, it was the fact that he had little to reveal that convinced him this wasn't the case.
Buchanan-Barnes held a single index finger to his ear, and listened intently to something that Fury couldn't hear.
"Affirmative."
He stood, and motioned for Fury to do the same. "They're ready for us."
Something in Fury snapped – who exactly was ready for them? And to what purpose?
"How about you give me some answers before we go further? How do you know I want to sign up to SHIELD?"
Patiently and calmly, Buchanan-Barnes gave his matter-of-fact reply.
"Because you want to be the best. Trust me, no other job you could possibly take would challenge you in as many ways as this one will."