Age of Darkness Christmas Special

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The Moscow Rules
1. Assume Nothing
2. Never go against your gut
3. Everyone is potentially under opposition control
4. Don't look back; you are never completely alone
5. Go with the flow, blend in
6. Vary your pattern and stay within your cover
7. Lull them into a sense of complacency
8. Don't harass the opposition
9. Pick the time and place for action
10. Keep your options open

· ~ · ~ · ~ · ~ ·

Music: James Bond Theme

· ~ · ~ · ~ · ~ ·

Part One: Rule 1 - Assume Nothing

It's a robbery, a murder, an undercover illegal mission, but not a crime...

At least that's what she tells herself as she breaks into the head of Moscow's HYDRA organization, killing two guards, seducing the boss, and stealing the rubies out from under his nose.

Glory Northern prides herself with her work against the mob bosses in HYDRA, the greatest crime "family" of all time. Made up of criminals and terrorists, HYDRA is set on world control through the banks of wealthy capitalists. It's people like Glory, a rogue agent belonging to no organization, that are determined to take a bit of that profit for themselves.

And why not? It was stolen first. She steals stolen goods. She robs thieves. All that is ever left is an lip print of red lipstick on the dead body of the mobster. The lipstick is a killer, a poisonous brand, and also acidic. It leaves behind no biological material for the police to find.

No witnesses left alive, yet no innocent people injured. Just the alias by one of the most deadly Public Service Assassins ever to live: Agent G.

The only problem with being Agent G and Gloria Sasha Northern at the same time is the loneliness. She tries to convince herself that it doesn't bother her anymore. After all, she's a spy. She lies for a living. Yet, the older she gets, the more she wishes she had done something normal with her life instead of joining the KGB at eighteen. Maybe have gone to college, or dated some football star. Having no parents and a complicated relationship with her other family members...

Ever since her twentieth birthday, Glory has been able to take down a man three times her size, shoot three bullets in a person's chest from one hundred yards away in three seconds, and break a neck with her legs. Now, coming up on twenty-nine, it's nearly ten years since she's seen her family, had friends, or a stable life. Sure, she can crack a safe or hack the FBI database with no problems, but ask her to see a movie or make a cup of coffee? She barely remembers that life at all.

"This is my life," she mumbles to herself, twisting the old-fashioned safe lock back and forth, listening for the clicks. "Breaking and entering into HYDRA's most valuable assets."

She hears a loud click signaling the unlock of the safe. Grinning to herself, she opens it peaks inside.

"Agent G," a voice says from the other end of her microphone that's built into her pearl necklace, "you've got incoming in thirty seconds. Ward is on his way back to the room."

She nods to herself, taking a deep breath. "Let me know the second he's outside the door and cut the feed right after. Okay, Agent V?"

Agent V, also known as Vladimir Spencer, and the only person Glory works with when it comes to having another person look over her. A strange looking man with black hair and goth clothing, you never would've guessed that his IQ was more than that of Einstein and his number of degrees were innumerable. He's the best guy she's worked with, and she has built a small pocket of trust around him.

"Understood," Agent V replies. "Twenty seconds."

The mission: infiltrate HYDRA through one of their newest bosses, Grant Ward. A fairly new member of the HYDRA family, Grant Ward is the son of a wealthy capitalists who was abusive, and thus drove Grant to do some very bad things to get into HYDRA. He is now their holder of some of the rarest gems in the world. Rubies, diamonds, emeralds, sapphires, you name it and Grant Ward has it locked in a safe above his bed.

After seducing Grant Ward into inviting her over to his mansion in Moscow, her cover being a Prima ballerina from the Moscow Ballet, Glory will crack that safe while he's suddenly called away by "urgent business" (or Agent V wrecking havoc on his mansions security systems) and Glory will take as many of those precious jewels and hide them in her compact makeup mirror that has a secret compartment.

It's a seamless plan... until she's stuffing those gems in up until five seconds before Ward enters the room again. She shuts the safe as quickly as possible, locks it, and throws the jewels into the compact.

"Five... four... three..." Agent V warns, "two... Good luck, G."

Glory pulls out her lipstick from her bag and starts applying it in the compact mirror as Grant Ward enters the room. He smiles at her. "I'm sorry about that. Must've been a false alarm."

Glory smiles and closes the compact and places both it and the lipstick tubes back in her purse, zipping it closed. "It is no problem, Grant," she replies in a false, but convincing, Russian accent. "I thought I would have to stay here all alone tonight." She smiles seductively and stands to her feet, shedding her winter coat.

Ward walks closer and rests his hands on her waist. "I wouldn't do that."

Rule seven: Lull them into a sense of complacency.

Glory stands on her tiptoes and kisses him. Grant kisses her back and starts to walk her back towards the bed. "So quick to get to the point, I see," she chuckles, trailing a finger down his jaw.

"I don't like wasting time, Yulia Ivanova," he replies, referring to her as her undercover name.

"I like that in a man. Bold, decisive." Grant Wards eyes start to droop closed and he soon passes out on the bed beside her. In a matter of minutes, the poison will have seeped into his bloodstream, killing him. Glory smirks and stands to her feet, grabbing her coat and wrapping it around her again. "And dead." After placing a kiss on his forehead, leaving her infamous redlipstick lip mark, she picks up her purse full of jewels and heads for the door. "Dead most of all."

The hallway is dark except for one janitor sweeping the floors. An elderly woman with a hunch, Glory can't help but appeal to her humanity for her. "Let me buy you a tea," she utters in Russian to her, smiling friendly at her. "If you leave with me, you'll never have to worry about money again."

Though the woman looks sceptical of Glory, whom she thinks is a blonde, wealthy Prima, she does as she asks and follows her out of the mansion. All it takes is a little show of cleavage, a sly smile, and a wink to the two guards at the front desk and they let her pass. She goes to peck each one of them on the cheek, whispering a small "Thank you" in Russian before she and the woman leave the building.

"Men," she mutters once outside. "So predictable." As soon as they close the door, Glory peaks behind and sees the two men drop like broken statues.

Poisoned statues.

She turns to the elderly woman and smiles softly. "Here," she says, taking off her winter coat, "take this."

The elderly woman tries to object, but Glory insists, wrapping it around the woman's shoulders. "Please. And also this." She pulls her compact out of her bag and opens it, taking out one of the largest Star Rubies, estimated around 500,000 dollars. Placing it in the woman's palm, Glory says, "Take this and take care of yourself. It's worth over three million rubel."

The woman's eyes grow huge and she starts to tremble, and not from the cold. "Why me?" she asks in her native tongue.

"Because those men are thieves from your people. I'm just giving something back." Glory smiles as the woman nods. "Go. Take care of your children."

"Thank you," she whispers, hugging Glory. Glory reluctantly hugs her back and then sends her on her way.

She smiles up at the falling snow and begins to walk down the streets of Moscow. This life might not be perfect, or safe, or even morally right, but it's things like that that make Glory feel like she's in the right business.

She taps her pearl necklace, linking her back to Agent V. "Agent V, time to delete the security tapes. Wipe everything. I'm coming home with the loot in tow."

"Roger that, Agent G," he replies. "Nice job, but what took you so long?"

Glory smiles again to herself. "I did a good deed, V. I helped a woman who needed it."

"I hope that good deed doesn't cut us short of our payday."

She rolls her eyes. "Maybe a little..."

"How much is 'a little'?"

"Three million rubel..."

"Damn it, G!" V shouts. "You and your damn bleeding heart. I assumed you were over this help everyone thing."

"Rule one: assume nothing, Agent V. And also rule six: vary your pattern and stay under your cover."

"Quit it with your stupid Moscow Law, G. This isn't funny."

"Just delete the feeds, alright? I'll be back at base soon. G, out."

"Yeah, yeah, whatev-" Agent V is cut off by Glory snapping her necklace off her neck and throwing it into the Moskva River where it's taken away to God knows where.

"Finally," she mumbles to herself. "Peace and quiet."

The snow relaxes Glory; it has ever since she was a child. Though she was never much a fan of the cold, and she barely had any good memories of Christmas in a broken home, she finds a place of serenity amongst nature's death cycle. It's a beautiful metaphor. The trees and plants sleep, just to be reborn in the spring. It gives her hope that even a person with a troubled past can begin again and start anew.

This Christmas will be different, she swears internally. This Christmas will be memorable, and she has no idea just how much she's right.

Minutes pass of her walking down the streets, enjoying the silence of the season, occasionally hearing carolers or jingle bells. How many pass, she's unsure, but it becomes painstakingly clear that someone is watching her. The icy feeling down her neck, the more than usual paranoia, Glory refers to it as her superpower. As a spy, it has to be.

Briefly looking over her shoulder, she sees a happy couple behind her an no one else. A man with longish brown hair. A woman with bright red locks. They look happy, smiling and laughing together, linked arm in arm. Now the only feeling Glory has is regret and envy. She could've had that life.

"No more," she whispers to herself, turning back around.

Just to be certain, she makes her way towards a bar on the corner of the street. Entering, her suspicions are proved false when the couple passes by the bar, not evening turning an eye towards her. "Huh," she mumbles, straightening out her black dress. "False alarm, I guess." She turns towards the bar and settles down on a stool. "Might as well have a drink while I'm here."

"What can I get you?" the bartender asks in Russian.

"Stolichnaya," she replies, stating her favorite brand of Vodka. "Just one for now."

He nods and goes to prepare her drink.

While Glory waits, looking through the drinks that are displayed on the back wall, a tall, handsome man comes to sit beside her. He has bleach-blonde hair with dark roots, dark blue eyes, and pale skin. He wears casual clothes, but she can tell how fit he is underneath.

"Here you go, Miss," the bartender says, sliding her her Stolichnaya.

She nods a thanks and hand him his tip along with the amount it costs for the drink. Downing it all in a long sip, the man beside her turns towards her, eyeing her empty glass. "Rough day?" he asks in Russian.

Glory swallows, sliding the empty glass towards the bartender, signaling for another. "Sorry, sweetie. I'm American." She turns towards him and mouths dramatically, "No Russian. Me no understand Russian."

He smirks as the bartender hands Glory another vodka. "Fine. We can do this in English if you like." While her jaw drops slightly, he turns to the bartender and says in Russian, "Her drink is on me."

"No," she replies in the same language. "Her drink is on her. Thanks, but no thanks."

"So you do speak Russian," the man smiles, knowingly. "I was starting to think I was out of luck."

"Look," she says, "I've had a really long day, I'm intoxicated, and sadly, I'm not one of those girls who gets frisky when drunk. I get violent and paranoid. If you lay a hand on me, even just one finger, I will beat your ass into next week before you can say you're sorry. Okay?"

The white-haired man laughs. She notices he's kinda hot now that he's laughing and not all mysterious. Wait, what? "I will keep that in mind, Agent G."

Glory drops her glass of vodka and all she hears is the shattering glass against the floor. "I'm sorry, what?"

"You are Agent G, also known as Gloria Northern and Yulia Ivanova, but no one is really sure those are even one of your real names. I hear they are calling you Kiss of Death and Poison Prima throughout HYDRA now. No one can seem to nail you down." He smirks and wags his finger towards her lips. "The lipstick is a nice touch. I really do like it. Very classy, yet effective and untraceable. Using your femininity against men is something the Black Widow or Agent Carter would be accused of doing."

Glory grabs her bag and stands up. "I'm not sure what you're talking about, but you've got the wrong woman. Sorry, pal."

As she turns to leave, the white-haired man stands and blocks her way to the door. It's not a problem, she could easily take him down, she'd just rather not cause a scene. "I am afraid I need to speak with you first, Ms. G. My employer insists."

"Insist on someone else," she growls moving under his arm to the exit. "Nice meeting you, weirdo." After exiting, she breathes a sigh of relief. "That was a close one."

Shots ring in her ears, coming from behind her. Glory ducks into an alley, taking a .44 magnum out of her purse. She loads it, peaks around the corner, only to have a bullet graze past her, leaving a cut along her cheekbone. "What the hell?" she shouts. She jumps out from behind the alley and starts firing at the white-haired man just outside the bar. Glory Northern is an expert marksman, and even she can't seem to land a shot on the adversary. He moves too fast.

After ducking behind a car for cover, she shouts back at the man, "What do you want with me?"

"He was just the distraction," a male voice utters from behind her. He hits Glory over the head with the end of a gun, and the voices and lights of Moscow become faded in her vision. Then last thing she sees is a black sack going over her eyes.

I guess this is the end, she thinks to herself before passing out.

· ~ · ~ · ~ · ~ ·

It wasn't the end. Not even close.

When Glory awakens, the black mask is still over her eyes. She cannot see, but her hearing aids her into finding out her surroundings. Thought her mind is still foggy from being knocked out, and a migraine is killing her, she can make out the noises of a British woman arguing with the Russian man who shot at her. She can't hear the exact words, but it's something along the lines of, "Don't kill her. We need her."

That's all Glory needs to hear before attempting to get out of the handcuffs. While struggling, she hears a heavy metal door open and close automatically. Two sets of footsteps, she concludes. One heavier than the other. Most likely a man and a woman.

"Don't even think about it," the same woman's voice orders. It's soft and foreign, but strong and authoritative. "I would like to have this little chat without hurting you, Agent G."

"Then get this damn mask off," Glory spits. "Maybe then we can talk."

"Alright," the woman says, and she orders one of the men in the room to take off the mask.

Once off, a bright light shines directly into her eyes. "Jeez," she winces, "care to turn the sun off?"

She says, "Jarvis?"

A voice comes from nowhere, replying, "Yes, Ms. Carter?"

"Please turn down the lights in interrogation room 12. Our guest has sensitive eyes."

"Yes, Ma'am." The lights immediately recede.

Glory blinks her eyes to adjust them, seeing a beautiful woman in front of her for the first time. "Ms. Carter, I presume?"

She nods. "I am. Could we have a name for you, Agent? An actual name perhaps?"

Glory smirks, still pulling at the handcuffs behind her. "Nice try. I wouldn't be that good of a spy if I just gave out my name to anyone who asked." She turns to get a good look at the man with Carter, and recognizes him instantly. "Hey! You're the man with the redhead I saw behind me before I went into the bar!"

He smiles for a brief moment. "Guilty."

"You hit me over the head, didn't you?"

Glory swears Ms. Carter smirks. "This is the Winter Soldier. He was trained by HYDRA, but he's since become one of my best. And you're not a good spy, Agent. You're the best there is. Well, besides Black Widow, but she's legend. You can't beat that." She stands from her seat and paces the room. "We can't seem to match your prints to anything in any of our databases. Facial recognition hasn't found anything either. How is that possible?"

Glory shrugs, still glaring at the Winter Soldier. "I know a guy."

"I didn't ask you to come here to play games, Agent G."

"Where is here?" she asks. "And why did you take me? Why am I here?"

"This," Ms. Carter motions around her, "is S.H.I.E.L.D. Strategic Homeland Intervention Enforcement Logistics Division."

"That's a mouthful, don't you think? What idiot came up with that?"

Carter frowns, her eyes piercing through Glory. "I did." She continues, "S.H.I.E.L.D. is the long-time enemy of one of your favorite clients, HYDRA. Our purpose is to make certain that the world remains safe from people like them. I'm Director Carter, one of three Directors of S.H.I.E.L.D., and we've been watching you for some time, Agent. Infiltrating HYDRA, killing the bosses one by one without a trace but the ones you wish to leave behind. I must say, it's very impressive."

"If I'm so impressive, how did you find me?"

She smiles. "We found your friend, Agent V. He lead us right to you."

Glory growls, "Don't you dare hur-!"

"-Relax," Carter says. "He's in perfect care. We didn't lay a finger on him."

"That man," she asks, "in the bar, that was one of yours?"

"Agent Quicksilver," Carter nods. "He's one of my best tactical agents. I send him out when I need something."

"What do you want, Carter?" Glory asks. "What could I possibly do for the Director of S.H.I.E.L.D.?"

"You can help us take down HYDRA from the inside," she replies, taking her seat again at the interrogation table.

Glory laughs, not believing it, but Director Carter's face doesn't change. "Wait, you're serious?"

"As a heart attack."

"Okay," Glory chuckles. "Let's pretend I believe this nonsense about S.H.I.E.L.D. and HYDRA and for a minute. Let's ignore the fact that Quicksand and Buzz Lightyear over here shot at me, knocked me over the head, and then kidnapped me. How could I - one girl who has a talent for lying, stealing, and murder - help an entire secret organization with hundreds of people at it's disposal? Especially when you have Black freaking Widow on your side."

"You have something we don't," Director Carter says, smiling.

"What is that?"

"A reputation inside HYDRA."

Director Carter stands up and nods towards the Winter Soldier. Much to Glory's surprise, he moves behind her chair and unlocks her handcuffs. "What are you doing?" she asks.

Carter walks towards the metal door as it opens. "Would you like to take a tour through S.H.I.E.L.D.? Maybe I can persuade you."

Glory shrugs out of the cuffs, and rubbing her wrists, follows Carter through the door with the Winter Soldier following closely behind.

They enter a large room with about twenty people bustling around. There are people on phones and looking at security footage. "This is the Mission Status room," Director Carter says. "This is where all the mission data, such as videos and audio logs, are taken in and processed."

The group of three continue moving, and she shows Glory many more rooms: Communications, Surveillance, Training, and Home Control. Each room is different, but they are all filled with S.H.I.E.L.D. Agents.

Once they arrive at the final room, the Director's Office, Carter motions for Glory to take her seat in front of her desk. Once they're both seated, Glory looks around the room, trying to configure any possible exits.

Through the window, she thinks to herself, but I don't know what's outside, or how far up it is. I could try to overtake Winter Soldier, but if I could do that and get out the door before Director Carter goes for her handgun...

Glory turns behind her and raises an eyebrow at Winter Soldier, who is standing in front of the door. "Is he your guard dog or something?"

"No," a new voice utters, entering the room from behind Winter Soldier, "that's my job." A man in his mid-fifties smiles kindly at Glory, extending a hand. "Director Coulson. I don't believe we've had the pleasure?"

Glory hesitantly shakes the man's hand. "Agent G. Nice to meet you, Director #2. Now, will someone care to tell me what exactly you want?"

Director Coulson stands behind Director Carter's chair, laying a hand on the back of it. "We're aware of your... talents, Agent G. I'm sure Director Carter has made you aware of our predicament with HYDRA."

"She beat around the bush a little." Glory looks around at the office. "Nice house you got here. What do you pay on rent?"

"We would like to hire you for your services for the next mission," Carter says, bluntly, folding her hands and resting them on the desk.

Glory smirks and leans back, crossing her arms. "Now you're singing my song."

"We've come across some information that leads us to believe that HYDRA is planning an attack on both the United States President and the President of Russia when they meet Christmas Day at a public event to show their continued alliances."

"Christmas Day is tomorrow, Director." Glory raises her eyebrows. "And this affects me how...?"

"The President is a close friend of S.H.I.E.L.D.," a deeper voice says, and another man enters the room. This one has dark skin and a goatee. His head is bald and he wears a black eyepatch over his left eye. "And we owe him a favor for getting Winter Soldier back from the Russians. Also, a war between the Russians and the Americans isn't really in S.H.I.E.L.D.'s best interests either."

"Agent G, this is Director Fury. He helped me found S.H.I.E.L.D."

Fury nods towards Glory, and she does the same. "Why would HYDRA want the U.S. and Russia at war with each other? I thought their speciality was feeding off wealthy capitalists."

"It is," Fury says. "But what better way to get stock prices to plummet on both countries than to kill their leaders? That would open countries like China, Japan, and Korea to trade at high prices with said countries. HYDRA would make billions, if invested in the right places."

Glory nods and turns her attention back to Carter. "What is this mission you have in mind, Directors?"

"We would need you to work in a team," Carter says.

Glory shakes her head and laughs. "No. I only work alone."

"This is too big a risk for one girl," Fury says. "No matter how capable she thinks she is."

Glory glares at him. "I am capable, Mr. Fury. I could take HYDRA out all by myself if I wanted to, but they provide a steady income." She pauses. "It all rides on what you're offering. How much are you willing to pay? I might be a little more... easily persuaded."

"Three million," Director Coulson says.

Glory chuckles. "Sweetie, I've killed for fun for more than three million."

"Five," Carter says.

"Fifteen," I reply.

"Ten, and we'll forget we ever made contact with you."

"Twelve, and I'll work with whatever team you give me."

All three Directors look at each other and nod. "Alright. Done."

She leans back and smiles from ear to ear. "Glad doing business with you. Now, what is this team you want me to work with?"

· ~ · ~ · ~ · ~ ·

Glory walks between the three Directors of S.H.I.E.L.D. and Winter Soldier. After discussing the terms of her work and payment, Director Carter suggested they bring her down to the training hanger where she will be introduced to her team.

The training hanger is a large, football field sized room. Multiple training machines and targets align the room. Several people are fighting martial arts style on the mats, others are in the boxing ring, some are hanging upside down from wires and shooting arrows into the targets, some are aiming guns at those same targets. A wide range of talents are on full display.

Director Carter hands Glory a file. She opens it to reveal a handsome young man with blond hair and bright blue eyes. "Hellooo, handsome. Please, tell me he's single."

Director Carter smiles slyly. "Steven Grant Rogers, 28 years old, 6' 3", 250 pounds. He's a born and bred New Yorker, given honorable discharge from the Army after the Afghan Wars. Has several medals, and came to work for S.H.I.E.L.D. after becoming a war hero. Is dubbed "Captain America", and he is my husband."

Glory looks up at Carter and grins. "You bagged a good one, Carter. Nice one. Please, tell me you'll be making babies."

Carter turns her head towards the training hanger with a small smile on her face. "He's fluent in French, German, and English. He prefers to fight with his custom-made shield, but also uses gunpower, martial arts, and hand-to-hand combat."

We watch as Steve Rogers swings up and down at a punching bag in the corner of the room, landing a heavy hit every time.

She hands me another file. This one holds a smug looking man with dark hair and brown eyes. His facial hair is clean cut and he winks in the picture. "Anthony 'Tony' Edward Stark, 43 years old, 5' 10", 190 pounds. Born in Long Island, New York, to Howard and Maria Stark, Tony was a boy genius. He entered MIT at the age of 15 to study electrical engineering and later received master's degrees in electrical engineering and physics. After his parents were killed in a car accident, he inherited his father's company, Stark Industries. He's run it ever since."

"How does he," Glory motions towards the area in the training hanger which Tony Stark is hovering over a table filled with broken weapons. He seems to be attempting to place several different parts together, "fit into this bunch of crazies?"

"Tony Stark is a genius engineer. He takes pretty much any weapon design you can think of and turns it into reality." She nods towards Tony.

He takes the prototype gun he's put together and aims it towards a target. Once fired, it leaves a burning hold in what used to be the target. His eyes grow wide and he laughs, raising his arms in victory. "Yes!" He fires once more, accidentally, towards the ceiling. "Damn it!"

"For reasons unknown, he prefers the code name 'Iron Man'."

Glory chuckles as Director Carter hands her the next file. This one is of a woman, a very beautiful woman, in a slightly scary way. Her short, red locks curl around her heart-shaped face, and her green eyes stare into Glory's soul.

"The next agent is one you may have heard of, Natasha Romanoff, formerly Natalia Alianovna Romanova, or the Black Widow. She's 31 years old, 5' 3", 140 pounds, and one of the deadliest people I've ever had the pleasure of working with. Born in Stalingrad, former Soviet Union, Natasha was raised by foster father, Ivan the Red, in the Red Room, a Soviet program for 28 girls. They turned them into spies and assassins, all while making them look like innocent girls. After being put on S.H.I.E.L.D's radar in a bad way, we sent another agent to take her out. She's been with us ever since."

"He didn't take her out?"

She shakes her head. "He made a different call and convinced me she was needed here. I've never regret that decision." They look to the Russian redhead who is firing multiple guns at different targets, hitting every single one in the center. "She specializes in martial arts, hand-to-hand, both knives and guns. She's one of our most talented agents.

"This," she hands me the next file, "is the man who spared her life: Clinton Francis Barton, 38 years old, 6' 0", 190 pounds. Raised in a circus with his younger brother, Clint prefers using a bow and arrow to a gun, which he is also perfectly capable of using." She points to a man with light brunette hair in the training room, who has bow and arrow aimed at the targets. He lets the arrow fly, hitting a perfect bullseye. "We call him Hawkeye."

The next file is one of a large man, whose smile hardly fits his face. He has blond hair that touches past his shoulders and biceps as big as Glory's entire head. "Steroids much?"

"That's Thor Odinson, and he's from Scandinavia. We're not exactly sure specifically where, though. He just showed up one day with his brother," she hands me another file with a dark haired man with sharp features, "Loki Odinson, and said they wanted to work for us. Thor is 34 years old, 6' 6", 280 pounds. He's a bit of a god, or at least he thinks he is. Loki is 32 years old, 6' 2", 180 pounds. Thor specializes in brute force and his weapon of choice is a hammer, believe it or not. Loki is the opposite. He prefers knives and cunning moves."

Director Carter points to the corner of the room where Thor is beating up a wall and Loki is rolling his eyes at his brother. "They couldn't be more different, but each works almost perfectly with the other."

Glory nods and the next file is handed to her. Inside is a man with brown, unruly hair and hazel eyes. "This is Dr. Robert 'Bruce' Banner, 44 years old, 5' 9", 170 pounds. He's the country's leading authority on gamma radiation. When he was a younger man, he was exposed to a large degree of radiation, and has ever since had a severe multiple personality disorder. One minute, he's a brilliant, shy scientist. The next, when angered, he's a malicious killer. We use both sides of the coin, just... carefully."

Glory looks into the training room and sees the corner with the lab, where Dr. Banner works tirelessly. "We refer to the other guy as the Hulk."

"Some name."

"This is the final person," Director Carter says, handing Glory another file. Glory nods and opens it to see two faces, one of which looks very familiar.

"Hey! This guy was the one in the bar. The one who shot at me!"

Director Carter chuckles. "This is Agent Pietro Erik Maximoff and his twin, Agent Wanda Mariya Maximoff. Born in the upheaval of their country, Sokovia, Wanda and Pietro have been on their own since childhood. Both are 30 years old, but Pietro is 12 minutes older, as well as 6' 3" and 190 pounds. Wanda is the younger Maximoff twin, as well as 5' 5" and 125 pounds. Both twins have certain skills. Pietro is very fast and is an expert tactical agent. He's a man I send to do tasks I need done quickly. Wanda is the opposite. She uses known information and a person's weaknesses to get into their head and play games. She uses weapons only when absolutely necessary but she's a wonderful criminal profiler."

We look to the Maximoff twins in the hanger. Pietro is running laps around the field, and Wanda is reading quietly in the corner. "Codenames?" Glory asks.

"Scarlet Witch and Quicksilver." A man comes up behind the small group, a tall man with blond hair and baby blue eyes. He smiles shyly at Glory. "Oh!" Director Carter exclaims, smiling widely. "Agent G, this is Edwin Jarvis. He operates everything technical in the facility. He's our very own personal genius." Director Carter's face shows adoration and pride.

"I also make very good gluten-free waffles," Jarvis says. He extends his hand towards Glory. "Pleased to meet you, Ms. G. You're a bit of a legend around here. You inspire a lot of the young women, and if we're all honest, the young men as well."

She shakes the hand, smiling back. "I can see that. Nice to met you, Mr. Jarvis. Let me guess, you have a codename as well?"

He nods. "Director Carter has called me 'the Vision of Success' many times, so, I suppose, Vision just stuck."

"Well," Glory says, taking in the entire team and laying the pile of files down on the nearest desk. "Care to add any more to the team? I wasn't sure you wouldn't have me working with the entirety of S.H.I.E.L.D."

"They all cover a portion of what this mission will need," Carter replies. "Stark covers mechanics, Romanoff covers everything spy related, Barton covers far away shots, Rogers covers not only a sense of conscience but also protection, the Odinsons cover brute force and cunningness, Banner covers the extremities, and the Maximoffs cover both speed with accuracy and calmness with intuition." She turns to Glory. "Now the only one we need is a person with a connection and knowledge of HYDRA's inner workings. You are best suited for this task."

Glory nods, looking back at the team. "What do they call themselves?"

"The Avengers. Would you like to meet them?"

Glory smirks. "Just tell Agent Quicksilver not to shoot at me again, please?"

END PART ONE.