Percy Jackson Avenger and S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent

2022 (1)

I would love to say that I did a brilliant job of limping around the world and leading HYDRA on a merry little chase.

Unfortunately, that wasn't quite the reality, and I almost got caught on multiple occasions. Slightly less unfortunately, I managed to survive for a good six months without actually getting captured, tortured, or murdered, which was a plus (although I can't add 'shot' or 'stabbed' to that list, but hey, we take what we can get, right?). By my standards, this was one of the best trips abroad that I'd ever had.

And, bonus, my leg healed up pretty quickly as well, so I just carried around my nice braces in the knowledge that I would probably need them again (which I did after getting shot in the leg in rural Ukraine).

So, after a few close (ish) shaves, my limited ability to surf the dark web seemed to show me that HYDRA hadn't actually got a clue where I was, which was exactly what I wanted. There were cold leads popping up all over the place in Europe and North Africa thanks to my escapades, and a few more in the US (which I attributed to Coulson, even though I hadn't asked him to).

It seemed logical to me that I should head for South America then, to complete my world tour. I figured stopping in Colombia or Venezuela might be a bad idea, considering the large US intelligence networks in both, so I decided to make a beeline for Perú, specifically Lake Titicaca.

I'd always wanted to go there, and it might prove to be a suitable location for my most audacious stunt yet.

But first off, I'd need to find a coroner. With a bit of a cash nudge, I figured that I could get HYDRA off my back again by getting a real death certificate this time.

However, because my life is increasingly ridiculous and nothing (nothing) ever goes to plan, some stupid informant must have been a little loose-lipped, and next thing I knew, I was quite literally running for the hills to avoid no less than seven HYDRA agents on mopeds armed with machine guns.

Ah, good times.

I sprinted for the nearest building, a dingy looking house, and dived through the nearest window, praying that I wasn't going to literally die in the process. That or get sued by some poor Perúvian that wasn't expecting an assassin to per fenestrate himself in the middle of the Andes.

Okay, small mercies; the glass wasn't reinforced and shattered nicely, even if it did slash up my palms a little as I rolled through the fragments and jumped straight up again, slamming my way through a thin door that led back outside again (and attempting to close it behind me to vaguely cover my tracks), hurtling up a gravel drive towards another, equally dangerous-looking building that really should have a had a 'derelict, do not enter' sign instead of the battered sandwich board reading 'hotel' and 'vacancies'.

Just around the corner (broken windows in your immediate sightline make the chain of events rather obvious, even if you are a HYDRA agent with a brain the size of a pea), there was another ground-floor window that seemed to me like a decent victim, so I chucked myself through that one as well, rolling over into a minefield of broken glass with a slight groan (this window had leaded lights; they're hard).

"Fuck." I muttered into the dirty floor; that window was a lot higher up than I thought.

I swore again as I heard the sound of heavy boots, something skittering across the floor, and a gun clicking in front of me. This room was apparently occupied.

I twisted painfully over to look my attacker in the face before I got shot whilst cowering on the floor (kind of embarrassing; I hadn't intended to actually die in South Peru), and found myself in for a bit of a shock (and a stroke of luck, I supposed).