Bluebird

Chapter One: Old Friends

The street was swarmed with desperate shoppers eager to get their Christmas shopping done while everything was on sale.
In the hustle and bustle of the holidays, no one noticed the hooded, sunglasses-wearing African-American man striding through the crowd.
He wasn't entering any of the shops, or even carrying anything besides the backpack strapped across his shoulders, but he had an air around him that made even the hastiest of shoppers move out of his path.
He didn't look like the kind of person who would take petty faults lightly.
Reaching a nearby pay phone, he stepped inside and inserted a coin, grimacing slightly at the dust coating the buttons and the receiver.
Dialing a set of numbers, he waited as it rang, before a voicemail came on.
"Hello, this is Eleanor Dixon. I'm unable to answer the phone right now, but leave a message after the tone and I'll be sure to get right back to you."
The man half-smiled, pleased his intel had proven right. Waiting a few seconds after the beep, he hung up, exiting the booth.
It was time to talk to an old friend.

Meanwhile, Eleanor Dixon listened to the silent message,her arms crossed across her chest.
Walking barefoot across the floor, she grabbed her kettle and filled it with water, before setting it on the stove and waiting for it to boil.
Reaching down into below the sink, she pulled her gun out and loaded it.
She had company coming.

The gate to the Victorian house was open when he arrived. Glancing around, he pulled the gun from his coat and held it up cautiously.
Stepping inside, he briskly walked the path up to the door, before opening the front door and looking around, keeping his gun pointed up.
Walking into what he assumed was the dining room, he looked down at the table and sighed.
A china teapot, and two matching teacups, sat in the centre, accompanied by a note.
"Care for some tea?"
He raised his hands in the air was the cold barrel of a gun prodded his bald head.
"It's been a while. The pseudonym's clever."
The gun barrel moved, and "Eleanor" moved around him, her white dress sashaying around her legs.
"When did Nick Fury start giving compliments?" She asked, pouring tea into the cups.
The former director of SHIELD shrugged. "About the same time you started using pseudonyms and "borrowing" SHIELD funds, Elizabeth."
"I think I deserve that money, Nick. Do you remember how long I worked for SHIELD?"
Fury took the cup she offered him and took a sip.
"I think I do." He replied dryly.
Taking a sip of hers, the blonde made a face. "Oh." Wrinkling her nose, she reached over and poured a generous amount of honey into her cup, stirring it almost violently.
"Well, we've made tea, threatened each other with guns, and made casual conversation. Now why are you here?"
Nick sighed, setting his cup down.
"Can't I come and have a casual conversation with my oldest friend?"
He asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Considering that you're dead and jobless? No." Elizabeth replied. "Speaking of SHIELD, how long have I been blacked out?"
"Since 1987. Howard did it himself."
She looked down at the table at the mention of Howard, her teacup in her hands. She was silent for a few minutes, before she spoke softly,
"What do you want?"
Nick looked at her, before he decided to tell her the truth.
"A problem has arisen I think you may want to know about."
Pulling a file from his backpack, he slid it across the table, and she stared at it cautiously.
"What is it?"
"Some old friends of yours have made their comeback." He simply stated, but it was enough for her to flip it open.
The insignia on the front page made her freeze.
It was three black lines, one in the centre, and two leaning against the centre on perfect angles. The two outer lines each had a thin blue one streaking through the middle.
"Zephyr." She breathed, flipping through the pages with an increasing sense of shock.
"It can't be...."
Nick sighed. "Unfortunately, it can be. I've been finding traces of them all over the world. I thought you'd like to know."
Looking up at him, Elizabeth lowly whistled, and Nick flinched.
She winced. "Sorry. Bad habit. But do you understand what this means?"
The blonde asked seriously, her piercing blue gaze meeting the man's intently.
"Why do you think I'm here?" He asked, staring just as intently back at her.
Looking away, she stood up, and Nick stood up with her.
"Elizabeth."
It was one word, but she understood what he meant.
Sighing heavily, she began walking towards the door.
"I left for a reason, Nick."
"One you never bothered to explain."
Pulling the door open, she gestured for him to step out.
He did, still waiting for an answer to his unspoken question.
Leaning against the door, she sighed.
"Give me 48 hours."
"You have 24." Fury replied automatically.
"32."
"Done."
Elizabeth smiled. "Trying to make sure I don't run?"
He smirked. "If I was worried about that, I wouldn't be leaving. I trust you know what needs to be done."
She nodded, before closing the door.
Accepting the conversation's end, he started walking again.
As she closed the door, Elizabeth sank down, bringing her knees up to her chest.
"Once more into the breach...." She murmured, resting her head on her kneecaps.