No Loose Ends

This is a sequel of sorts to "Oh Suzannah, Don't You Cry for Me". Spoilers for that story if you haven't read it (it's not necessary but it does help clear up some details). Also, spoilers for Agents of SHIELD 7x4 (if you haven't seen the show, go watch it, it's awesome!).

WARNING: allusions to suicide, character death, canon typical violence

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No Loose Ends

1989

London could've been better.

Richard Miller didn't blame the city for his miserable mood. The unceasing rain, the stink of pollution, or the bustling of cars and pedestrians below his window were not at fault. He'd been living in New York City for at least thirty years now; he'd gotten used to the constant sounds and smells of a large city.

No, the sounds streaming through the pouring rain into his hotel room were not the source of his restlessness. In any other circumstance, he'd be out seeing the local landmarks, tasting any London cuisine he couldn't find in America, and enjoying himself. His wife would be jealous of his time in arguably one of the most recognizable cities in the world.

Richard didn't travel here for a vacation, though. Looking over his shoulder at the airport, not sleeping on the six-hour flight, and checking his hotel room closet with a loaded gun in hand were not the typical actions of someone on vacation. His wife, of course, assumed he'd left on a business trip, which, had some semblance of truth to it. Normal work trips didn't involve the possibility of dying in a foreign hotel room, but his job description had an additional clause for a reason.

This trip, however, exceeded usual circumstances even for him. He'd spent most of his career behind a desk, not out in the field on a mission to deliver some highly classified files to the founder of SHIELD: the one and only Peggy Carter. They had already arranged a meeting at St. James's Park near Buckingham Palace. Carter had chosen the spot near the already stationed palace guards specifically in case the meeting went sideways and they needed help. Carter didn't need help and Richard had some experience fighting, being the war and all, but both of their fighting days were long behind them.

They would meet at a park bench beneath a tall willow overlooking the lake tomorrow at nine o'clock sharp. Richard had a few hours to wait, and although his stomach growled and his tired eyes drooped, he couldn't sit and eat or even take a brief nap. His wife would kill him if he died. He always assumed he'd meet his end after a heart attack or from old age, not a classified mission going south.

How life loved to prove him wrong.

Pacing did not help to calm his nerves.

Richard had signed up for this and had known what he would be getting himself into, but he still sorely underestimated the situation. Working with SHIELD had its risks—risks he knew full well. He'd served in the 358th Infantry Regiment during World War Two, saw his fair share of combat, and survived. He'd survived a bullet in the side. He'd survived for over a week in the middle of the North Sea after outrunning a team of Hydra agents. He probably wouldn't survive this, if the files he had stashed under the mattress were anything to go by.

Once again, all the blame fell on Hydra. It seemed wherever he turned, he couldn't escape them. Honestly, the fact he made it this long without Hydra turning their sights on him was nothing short of a miracle. At sixty-six years of age and at least forty of those years spent working for the SSR and then SHIELD, he had grown accustomed to the shadow of Hydra looming above. This time, however, he could feel their presence approaching ever closer like the cracks in a dam before it burst open and destroyed everything in its wake.