Fury reluctantly followed his former commanding officer to the end of the corridor. As he'd suspected when looking on from a distance, there was nothing there - just a metallic wall, every bit as solid and uninterrupted as any other part of the corridor, save the waiting room.
Buchanan-Barnes placed his right palm flat against one part of the wall, and his left eye against another.
"It takes a while to memorise where the scanners are, but you'll pick it up."
Doors clicked back half an inch from the apparently solid wall, and parted, revealing a young woman sat behind a desk. She was wearing the same vibrant navy blue SHIELD uniform, but with a dull brown sash.
"Good afternoon sir. The remainder of the new agents are waiting for you - the presentation's ready to go."
She was young, with a warm smile. Her desk was large, with both it and the seated area raised - reaching almost a full half circle around her, with just enough space for her to step down. Behind the top section of the desk, Fury could see several files - a handful of which the secretary picked out and handed over to Buchanan-Barnes. He headed over to two sets of lifts to her left. Fury followed, because he wasn't sure what else to do as much as anything else.
Three SHIELD employees were sat obediently facing towards a screen, with another stood beside a projector. Buchanan-Barnes indicated the empty seat, and Fury took it.
"Gentlemen, welcome to your first day of Agent training."
He took the files from under his arm, handing them to the projector operator (whose sash was a light orange, possibly peach). Buchanan-Barnes positioned himself beside the screen.
"You'll be SHIELD's newest field agents, part of an elite that very few know about, and fewer still are invited to join. It's believed that our area of expertise will become increasingly important in the next few decades - you will form the frontline for our nation's next great conflict."
Fury couldn't help but roll his eyes. He wanted to burst out of the room and return to the surface, to a world where things made sense. But looking across at his fellow inductees - two wearing grey sashes above their blue uniforms, one wearing brown - they seemed to be lapping it up. They seemed excited.
"We'll start by testing your deductive powers," Buchanan-Barnes announced. Any trace of humour was now gone from his face - he was a strict, focused teacher. "Sergeant Fury - you've been told the least. What have you observed?"
All five of the SHIELD agents looked towards him, with the brown-sashed and one of the grey-sashed inductees smirking. He wasn't sure if it was racism or condescension towards outsiders, but Fury was clearly expected to embarrass himself.
Put on the spot like this, some men could wilt. Fury's objection was simpler - he was no-one's performing monkey.
"You're examining some form of technology, way beyond anything I've seen before, and I've visited some of the Army's top Arr and Dee projects. I'd assume it's captured, but it looks way beyond what I've heard the Ruskies have. The least unbelievable option is that it's an alien spaceship."
Buchanan-Barnes' face was stiff. The brown-sashed inductee seemed mildly impressed.
"I'm not entirely convinced you are government employees - you could be civilians, or even Russian spies who've taken over a former military base, as far as I can tell." He paused. "But you're clearly well-financed. That, and the Major's presence, means I'm tempted to give you the benefit of the doubt."
Fury paused again, to think methodically.
"Blue is your standard uniform, with the overwear denoting rank or department. You're wearing bold, bright colours, unusual for a secret organisation. Maybe you're intending to come out in the open soon, and a uniform redesign is part of it, to appear colourful and trustworthy? Or it could be that your superiors haven't thought things through." He paused to think. He could feel his heart beating faster, his well-defined muscles moving in reaction to the extra adrenalin. "My guess is that brown sashes mean administrators, grey means technicians."
Fury was speaking strongly, with confidence and anger - his powerful chest projecting his voice with the volume of an experienced drill sergeant making sure a new recruit five rows back couldn't ignore him. He was tired of being messed around, and didn't care who knew.
"You don't see much frontline combat, I'm sure of that much." He spoke with contempt - an experienced frontliner looking down on those in the intelligence division (probably) who were all theory. A slight smile was spreading across the face of Buchanan-Barnes.
"And there's an unofficial floor between sub-levels 2 and 3. The lift took twice as long to travel that distance as between the other floors."
This was met by laughter from the brown-sashed recruit, a loud, momentary burst of amusement at his ridiculous suggestion. The glare he got from the grey-sashed recruits confirmed that Fury was right.
"I'd assume that the... yellow thing… was flown here by aircraft carrier, it must have been in one of the biggest they US has. There's no way you'd have been able to move it by road without being seen. Either it landed nearby, or you've borrowed resources to move it here. You've got connections. And the symbol at its front is obviously meant to make an impact. Either it's branding for a commercial enterprise, or it's meant to strike fear into their enemies."
Fury thought over the minutiae of details he'd seen, wondering what else he could deduce. One final thought came to him.
"There's a blond technician in the hangar, with her hair in a ponytail halfway down her back."
Buchanan-Barnes creased his brow, his face stiffening.
"She seemed to be going through the motions of reading her instruments. Either she's way out of her depth, or you've got an infiltrator."