I'm Grant Ward

Chapter 118: The Mission

Inside the bus, the atmosphere was tense. Simmons paced back and forth, her eyes fixed on her tablet, but her mind elsewhere, full of worry. She knew that Fitz had been assigned to the field mission with Ward, but the idea of ​​seeing him in a risky situation was making her increasingly anxious.

"Fitz... on a field mission?" she muttered to herself, her voice shaking. "This can't be right..."

Skye, who was sitting further ahead, noticed Simmons' behavior and approached.

"Hey, Simmons," she said, trying to sound casual, "is everything okay?"

Simmons stopped and looked at Skye, her expression betraying the inner anguish.

"Is everything okay? How can everything be okay? Fitz isn't trained for the field! He shouldn't be going on missions like this! And on top of that with Ward..." her voice became more desperate with each word.

"If something happens to him, I don't know what I'll do." Skye put her hand on Simmons' shoulder, trying to calm her down. "Ward will take care of him, you know that. He's the best for this kind of mission. Fitz will be in good hands. You have to trust that."

Simmons nodded, but she still looked terrified by the idea. She couldn't help but imagine the worst-case scenario, even though she knew Fitz was brilliant and Ward was highly capable.

Meanwhile, in the Caucasus Mountains, Ward and Fitz were on their way to a secluded bar. The place was known to Ward, who had a contact in the region, someone who could provide information on the location of the Overkill device.

"We're almost there," Ward said, his eyes scanning the surrounding terrain with precision. "I just need this guy to give us the right information, and we'll be on our way to completing the mission."

Fitz looked at Ward, still uncomfortable with the idea of ​​being in the field. He was a scientist, not a combat agent. But at the same time, he knew he had to trust Ward. He had no choice.

"What if he's not there?" Fitz asked uncertainly.

Ward smiled, but his tone was serious.

"He will be. And if he's not, we'll find another way. But I'd rather this be quick and easy."

They reached the bar, a small, nearly abandoned place tucked away in the mountains. The old wooden exterior looked like it had withstood the test of time and weather, but it showed signs of having seen better days.

As they entered, the atmosphere was dark and full of suspicious figures, large men with scars on their faces and hard looks. Fitz hesitated for a moment when he saw the type of people who frequented this place, but Ward kept his cool.

"Stay close to me," Ward said quietly as he walked toward the bar.

He addressed the bartender, a scowling man with a thick beard and piercing eyes.

"I'm looking for an old friend," Ward said, leaning slightly on the bar. "He said he'd be staying here." The bartender stared at him for a few seconds before answering, with a heavy accent.

"What's your friend's name?"

Ward took a deep breath before answering.

"Ivan. He's an old acquaintance. I haven't seen him in a few years, but I heard he was around recently."

The bartender shook his head slowly, his expression growing even darker.

"Ivan is dead," he said coldly and directly.

The statement made the air in the bar heavier. Fitz glanced quickly at Ward, who kept his posture firm, but there was a clear tension in the air. Ivan's death complicated the mission.

"Dead?" Ward repeated, with controlled coldness. "How did that happen?"

The bartender shrugged.

"He made a lot of enemies. In this place, no one lives long if they don't know where to step."

Before Ward could answer, the mood in the bar began to change. The regulars began to look in his direction, as if they were preparing for something.

Fitz sensed the imminent danger and took a step back, visibly uncomfortable.

"Ward... I think we should get out of here..."

Ward sensed the growing hostility around him and, with the experience of someone who had faced this type of situation before, prepared himself.

"Stay behind me, Fitz," he said, his voice low and calm, as he watched the men begin to surround them.

One of the men, a large man with a scar on his face, approached Ward, giving him a mocking smile.

"So you're Ivan's friend?" he asked, his voice threatening. "That means you have a debt to pay too."

Ward knew this was going to end in violence, and he didn't have time to try to negotiate. In one swift movement, he threw a punch straight at the man, hitting him in the jaw and knocking him down instantly.

"Fitz, get down!" Ward shouted, as more men came at them.

Fitz quickly complied, crouching behind a table while Ward engaged the men with lethal precision. Ward's every move was calculated; he took down the attackers one by one.

Within minutes, the bar was filled with men lying on the floor, groaning in pain. Fitz, still hidden, peered over the table.

"You... you took them all down?" he asked, astonished.

Ward, panting but unharmed, looked around and smiled slightly.

"It was either that or they'd kill us," he said simply. "Let's get out of here before reinforcements arrive."

Fitz stood up slowly, still shocked by Ward's fighting ability. They quickly left the bar, leaving the defeated men behind. Outside, Fitz was still trying to understand what had just happened.

"I've never seen anything like it," he said, as he walked beside Ward, still panting. "You took those guys down like it was... nothing."

Ward shrugged, as if it were just another day on the job.

"When you're in the field, you have to act fast. If you hesitate, you die. That's the reality."

Fitz fell silent, absorbing Ward's words. He knew the world of combat was brutal, but seeing it in action made it all seem so much more real.

"What now?" Fitz asked, trying to push the image of the bar fight from his mind.

Ward looked out over the horizon at the snow-capped mountains.

"Now, we move on. We have a mission to complete."