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It was May when life started to get interesting for us again. And when I say us, I mean the entire fucking world because an alien had decided to show up in Germany and start randomly trying to subjugate the population.

And, however much the powers-that-be with regards to aliens (by which I mean S.H.I.E.L.D: who else?) tried to keep the incident relatively quiet, there is only so much that you can hush up a total madman like that who proceeded to get taken down by none other than Iron Man and Captain America.

It was like every kid's superhero dream to see a team-up that that, and from the limited footage that the news was playing, it wasn't overkill.

Man, I would not like to be wearing Nick Fury's trench coat at that particular point in time.

But since I wasn't Nick Fury, and I wasn't on his payroll either, I could just watch the news from my cabin at camp with my feet on a table and think 'wow, glad that's not me'.

Chiron told us to lay low. If people were suddenly suspicious of aliens, they might be suspicious of demigod goings-on that would otherwise be covered by the Mist (which apparently only works if people don't really believe that they can see the impossible thing). And if people found out about us, we'd be in danger and yadda yadda yadda.

Bottom line: hunker down. Let all of this crap blow over and hope that there isn't some giant monster attack or something.

Of course, 'laying low' was never going to last long if your name is Percy Jackson.

It was around three o'clock two days later that Annabeth got the call. I was busy teaching a bunch of thirteen year-olds how to hold a sword (difficult if your arms are like string beans), let alone fight with one, when I caught sight of her sprinting towards the arena, phone in hand.

"Percy!" Fuck, she even sounded desperate. That was not a good omen. "Percy! It's Coulson! He wants to speak to you!" I grabbed the phone from her hand, and put it to my ear as she said, "It sounds urgent."

I slipped easily into my old S.H.I.E.L.D. persona. "This is Jackson."

"Agent Jackson," Coulson began. He sounded kind of breathless, but not running-for-miles breathless. More like punctured-lung breathless (trust me, I've heard both), "I wouldn't ask if it wasn't urgent, but the security of the entire planet is at stake. I need people I can trust, and I need the best that we've got."

Oh, no. "Sir, I'm not sure that-"

"Get your ass to New York and do it now. There's tac gear for you at the safe house on Fifth, and I've set you up for palm-print access. I don't think you'll miss the location of the skirmish."

"Sir, with all due respect-"

Coulson's tone was firm in spite of the fact that it sounded like he was dying. "That's an order, Jackson."

I nodded, not that he could see. "Okay then sir. Fifth, you say? What's the traffic like?"

He exhaled in a kind of wheeze. "Traffic is stationary throughout the city, so I hope you've got an alternative mode of transport. I'd recommend that kid that whisked you out of Chicago, but don't worry if you can't get here that instantaneously."

So, I'd take Blackjack, then. Nico was way too prickly. I decided not to dwell on how he knew that I'd been magicked out of Chicago. "I can be there in forty minutes," I estimated, hoping that it wouldn't give away my position too badly.

"Make it twenty-five."

Okay then. Twenty-five minutes would be possible if I asked him nicely and offered doughnuts, I reckoned. "Sir, could I at least have some sort of brief to understand what I'm walking into here?" I waved Annabeth towards the kids I was tutoring and began to very purposefully walk back to my cabin, phone still pressed to my ear.

Percy Jackson Avenger and S.H.I.E.L.D. AgentWhere stories live. Discover now