Claws of Fate

Integration

Silence fell over the room as the young man stood awkwardly in the doorway. "If you guys eat that sort of thing," he said before stepping out, leaving us alone again. I glanced at Natasha, then nodded toward the door, silently telling her it was time to go. As soon as we left the room, the smell of bacon and eggs hit me like a truck, and before I could stop myself, I bolted towards the plate of food waiting on the counter. I knew I should've had better manners, but after everything, I didn't care—I was starving. I shoved the food into my mouth, barely chewing as I felt the hunger in my stomach ease a little.

I could feel their eyes on me, though. I looked up, cheeks puffed with food and a glass of orange juice half in my mouth. I smiled sheepishly, realizing I probably looked like a wild animal right now.

"Well, at least someone enjoys my cooking," the man—Sam, I figured his name—said with a chuckle.

I swallowed hard and tried to act normal, but before I could say anything, Natasha's voice cut through. "So, the question is, who at S.H.I.E.L.D. could launch a domestic missile strike?"

Her question lingered in the air like the smoke still rising from the stove. It was clear that none of us had the full picture yet, but something was definitely wrong.

"Who falls next in line after Fury?" I asked, half wondering and half hoping I was wrong.

"Pierce," Steve answered, his voice heavy with familiarity.

Natasha hopped off the counter, her movements sharp and calculated as she made her way over to me, snatching a strip of bacon right off my plate without so much as a word. "Who happens to be sitting on top of the most secure building in the world." She said.

"But he's not working alone, is he?" I muttered, more to myself than anyone, too distracted to notice her stealing more of my food.

"Zola's algorithm was on the Lemurian Star," Steve added, his voice grim.

I glanced at Steve before noticing my empty plate. My gaze darted towards Natasha, catching her in the act as she popped the last piece of bacon into her mouth. I growled under my breath, annoyed, and finished the rest of my orange juice with a loud gulp.

"So was Jasper Sitwell," Natasha said, unbothered by my irritation as she wiped her hands on a napkin.

I clenched my teeth but let it go, shifting focus back to the problem at hand. "So the real question is, how do the two most wanted people in Washington kidnap a S.H.I.E.L.D. officer in broad daylight?" Steve asked, clearly trying to piece things together.

Sam, who had just finished up at the stove, turned around and walked over to me, sliding another plate of food in front of me with a small smile. "The answer is, you don't."

I barely had time to thank him before he set a folder down on the table in front of Steve. "What's this?" Steve asked, eyeing the file.

"Call it a résumé," Sam said, leaning back into a chair casually.

Natasha, ever curious, reached for the file, flipping it open. "Is this Bakhmala?"

I tilted my head, recognizing the name. "The Khalid Khandil mission? That was you?" I asked, genuinely intrigued as I glanced at the photo she was holding.

"You didn't say he was a Pararescue," Natasha said, glancing up at Steve.

Steve's face softened as he studied the picture closely. "Is that Riley?" he asked quietly.

Sam's expression darkened just a little as he nodded. "Yeah."

Natasha continued flipping through the file, impressed. "I heard they couldn't bring in the choppers because of the RPG. What did you use? A stealth chute?"