On The Edge. | Steve Rogers.

eleven.

Issac frowned as he walked into the main lobby of the triskelion, a cylindrical building with three large walls that made up the main structure. The entire building seemed to be in a state of chaos and disarray, he'd even had his badge scanned and validated by the guard at the front gate. While that didn't sound like much, S.H.I.E.L.D knew him well enough to where he rarely, if ever, needed to prove his identity. The shattered glass and broken pieces of metal fallen from a large hole in the glass ceiling was odd, and after seeing the state of one of the elevators and the strike team, he was seriously concerned about what happened mere hours before his arrival.

Even Alexander Pierce, a man who often wore an aura of confidence and calm, seemed on edge. He sat on the edge of his desk, eyeing Issac carefully. The younger male was tensely sitting on one of the couches in his office, frowning at the man in front of him. It was silent, Issac unsure of what to say and Pierce clearly trying to break through his current internal conflict. 

"You're here on an assignment for Fury, right?" After a nod from the other, he continued. "What assignment exactly?"

Issac blinked, briefly wondering if he should lie or not.

"Fury was worried about a possible mole inside S.H.I.E.L.D. He had me look into a few old leads and cold cases to maybe see if they missed something in the past." He spoke vaguely. "Sir, with all due respect, why am I here? What's going on?" Issac wasn't stupid, nor was he oblivious.

The older man's lips quivered with a small, briefly amused smile before he frowned again. He crossed his arms over his chest, his expression looking grim.

"What security level are you?"

"Level six, sir." Issac glanced at the male oddly.

Pierce took a deep breath, hesitating for a moment before pushing it away.

"Consider yourself level seven. I believe Steve Rogers knows more than he's letting on, and that he had something to do with Nick Fury's death." Those words sent a chill down Issac's spine. This was Steve they were talking about, there was no way he was involved in the murder of their director. There couldn't be. "He escaped custody this morning." That explained the damage and the frantic behavior of every agent remaining on sight.

Issac frowned, eyebrows furrowing as he was slowly able to put two and two together.

"I want you to hunt him down and bring him in." The man spoke before he could open his mouth, gaze not leaving Issac's face. "Can you do that for me?"

Issac squared his shoulders, steeling his expression as he nodded and stood up from his seat. The look in the man's eyes made him incredibly uncomfortable. There was something hidden under the regret and mournful gaze, something darker that he didn't want to cross right now. 

"Give me a day, and consider it done." He spoke quickly. The older man nodded, and with a wave of his hand, he was dismissed.

Issac waited until he was back inside his car, cruising down the interstate before laughing shakily. He brought a hand to his mouth, the other tightly gripping the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white. He briefly thought about calling Steve but then realized that S.H.I.E.L.D most likely bugged his cellphone, or they'd be able to trace it if he answered. He could try Natasha, but that might cause some heads to turn as well. He sighed resolutely, speeding up and heading back towards his hotel room. He'd had to resort to old fashioned methods to find him.

Issac changed his clothes, opting for something more casual and civilian like that would allow him to blend in with the crowds. A pair of black jeans tucked into his boots and a dark red shirt with a light jacket on top would have to do. He shut off his cell phone completely, tucking his gun away into his belt, out of sight from others. He slipped a knife into his boot for safe measures, looking around the hotel room and pursing his lips. He needed to find a way to get himself off the grid for at least a few hours so he could do this without his every move being watched.