UNKNOWN GUEST

#38 Life In A Binary Code

Dad and Fury were at it, locked in a heated argument that felt like it could tear the room apart. Fury was fighting to save what was left of S.H.I.E.L.D., clinging to the belief that the organization could still be salvaged. 

But Dad wasn't having any of it. His voice was firm, unyielding, as he laid out his stance—S.H.I.E.L.D. wasn't just compromised; it was beyond saving. "You can't just cut out the rotten parts and pretend the fruit's still good," he said, his tone laced with conviction. "S.H.I.E.L.D. is rotten to the core. It has to be dismantled, or it'll just keep festering."

Fury glanced around the room, looking for support, but the others—Mom, Maria, Uncle Sam—stood with Dad. Even though the tension was thick, they all knew he was right. There was no saving S.H.I.E.L.D. as it stood. The organization had been infiltrated by Hydra so deeply that it was impossible to trust anyone or anything within it.

Fury's gaze eventually landed on me. I could see the resignation in his eyes, the reluctant acceptance that he was outnumbered and outvoted. I tried to hide the smile tugging at the corners of my mouth as I shrugged and said, "It's the Captain's order."

Fury nodded with a sigh, the fight draining out of him. "Alright," he muttered, acknowledging the decision. Then, with a touch of dry humor, he glanced at me again, "Looks like I'm not the ideal candidate for the race, huh?"

I couldn't help but smile, catching the underlying meaning in his words. "You'll have an opportunity later for a grand comeback, though," I replied, giving him a reassuring nod. Fury might be stepping back for now, but I knew this wouldn't be the last we'd see of him.

The others looked between us, confusion evident on their faces. They didn't quite understand the inside joke we were sharing—the unspoken reference to a future that, for me, was all too familiar. But for now, that was a story for another time.

Fury gave a final nod, his expression settling into one of reluctant acceptance. We all knew this was the right decision, even if it wasn't easy. S.H.I.E.L.D. had to fall so that something better could eventually rise from its ashes.

Dad was still grappling with the gut-wrenching reality that his best friend had become someone he'd have to fight against to protect millions of lives. I could see the weight of it in his eyes, the way his shoulders slumped as he walked out with Uncle Sam. Maria headed off to make preparations for their return to the headquarters, leaving just the three of us—each of us nursing wounds, both physical and emotional.

Fury had gone quiet, staring up at the ceiling, probably lost in his thoughts. Mom was leaning back on the couch, occasionally wincing from the bullet wound in her shoulder. And then there was me, trying to convince myself I could stand, even though my leg still felt like it was on fire. I managed to push myself up from the bed, but the moment I put weight on my injured leg, it buckled under me, and I sat back down with a yelp.

Mom shot me a look, a small frown of annoyance creasing her forehead. "Can't you stay still?" she muttered, her voice carrying that no-nonsense tone she often used when she was both worried and frustrated.

I avoided her eyes, feeling a little sheepish. She sighed, a mix of exasperation and concern in her voice. "What was the need for causing this much trouble? They'll be more alert now."

She wasn't wrong. My attempt to retrieve the targeting blades had stirred up a hornet's nest. "I know," I admitted, running a hand through my hair. "But think about the possibility—if I'd successfully gotten the blades, we wouldn't be meeting in this cave."

Mom sighed, her expression softening just a bit. "You're right, but it didn't work, did it?" She shook her head, clearly frustrated. "Jason, in this line of work, you don't operate on probability. Espionage is a binary code. Either this, or that. You've got the mission done, or you die. Failure is neither the goal nor an option."