Coronation Of Flame (A Marvel Fanfic)

Chapter 8: The Bridge

Hi all! Merry Christmas! I hope you all have a great time over the holidays! I'm not sure if I can get the next chapter up before 2016, but I'll try.

Enjoy!

LittlePond

Chapter 8: The Bridge

Only a few days later, Coulson brought up the image of a fugitive- a plump faced middle aged man, whose only hair was his eyebrows and 5 o'clock shadow, his serial killer look completed with an animalistic twinkle in his eyes.

I could tell he was the type of man who I killed from just the image. My knuckles curled in anticipation, perhaps I would be lucky enough to bring him down.

"Edison Po; former marine and expert in tactics. Fell off the grid in 2008, and reappeared 18 months ago in Boston." Ward chuckled at the desk he was leaning on, adding, "Where he stabbed a friend's eyes out." Coulson finished, "With a steak knife, then finished his meal."

Bile rose in my throat, which I coughed back down. The Bus was not a place to show weakness.

"Funny, Po doesn't look crazy," Skye muttered. The team and I all looked at her and Skye corrected herself, "I'm kidding, the guy's a walking mugshot."

"Which means he shouldn't be too hard to track down. Finding Po and these Centipede soldiers is a top priority of S.H.I.E.L.D. So we won't be working alone."

Ward, whose hair was mobile with sweat asked, "What team did HQ send for back up?" Coulson shrugged, raising my suspicions to the roof, "Not a team, a person. Someone who can help us fight fire with fire."

Oh dear, this sounded horribly S.H.I.E.L.D.

"Somebody we've worked with before?" Skye asked. Coulson grinned, "Not exactly."

The special somebody was Mike Peterson.

Of course, the name would've had much more dramatic effect if I knew his identity.

May set a course for his training facility, while I asked everyone, "So who's Mike Peterson?" Simmons rubbed her hands on her grey sweater, "He was one of Centipede's first subjects but HQ managed to stabilise the Extremis."

Despite the positive light which Simmons painted him in, I could tell not all shared her opinion. Ward shook his head, "It's not good. At all. The guy was a ticking time bomb literally."

"HQ wouldn't've send him if he was still combustible," Fitz reasoned, rustling the blue of his sweater. Ward braced his arms, "They stabilise his attitude? Because he was pretty hostile at Union Station."

"Well, it's not like we haven't opened our doors to other people with questionable track records," Simmons murmured, turning to Skye, "Not cool. But true. And don't worry about Mike; he's a good guy." Ward shook his head, ringing that bell of familiarity, of the bittersweet return to base, HYDRA.

HYDRA. Oh.

"This could easily go sideways. I mean, last time we saw this guy he was a raging homicidal maniac..." Ward trailed off, finally aware of the suited man, who I assumed was Peterson, behind him, "he's standing right behind me, isn't he?"

We all nodded.

Mr Peterson was not sore on the eyes. Despite the fact that he was bald, he still had the form of a certain speedster, if the older Maximoff had been clean shaven and African American. I gulped.

"Mr Peterson, this is Agent Grant Ward, the man who shot you at Union Station," Coulson introduced, pointing to a very embarrassed Ward who had withdrawn into himself. "Fitz-Simmons designed the weapon he used," Fitz-Simmons waved, "and, I think you remember-" "Kidnap victim," Skye jumped in.