"I have general Jones and his party here to meet up with general Talbot."
The plan was easy. The team would sneek in as the group of general Jones, who would have a chit-chat with general Talbot. The guard from the enterance checked his list.
"I'm sorry sir, I don't have this visit in the register today," the guard answered.
"You might want to double check that," Idaho replied.
"If it's not in here, there's nothing I can do. Exit to the left please."
At the gate house, someone knocked on the window. The guard they had been speaking to went to the gate house, and took the Phone.
"Gatehouse... Ah sir, sorry, his name is not in the register, and my orders- ... Yes sir. I understand sir, but I can't- ... Oh. Never mind. Sir."
The guard gave them permission to drive through, and they went with the SUV's to the building, to seek were they were looking for.
"Stay and keep the engine running, in case we have to abord," May ordered Idaho.
"Got it."
"I don't like this situation at a-all," Sanchez murmled. "And don't say I should just tell all of you. I have my orders, just like you."
Skye rolled her eyes. Hartley made a face.
"Needle in a haystack."
"All right, we know were we're looking for," May said.
Skye could hear Sanchez murmel something about "gonna kill all of them," but decided not to pay attention on it. It was Sanchez. Reason enough.  She started looking, while Sanchez focussed on her hearing.
Creel was here. Someone else who would join the stars soon. Very soon.
"I've got the 0-8-4," Hartley sounded over coms.
"Be carefull," May replied.
"Repeat; I've got the damn thing."
She started to open up the box, while Sanchez came around the corner, looking to the back of Creel.
Hartley had recognised Creel before Sanchez had had even the chance to yell.
"All right... Why don't we see what makes this thing so special- AAAAAAAAAH!"
She started to scream, and Sanchez cursed. There went number one. The had taken the deviner with her bare hands. How stupid was she? YOU DO NOT FREAKING TOUCH AN 0-8-4 WITH YOUR BARE HANDS.
But her screaming scared Creel away. Hunter came around the corner, firing some shots at him, and looked back at Hartley.
"What the hell is that thing?"
"You fool!" Sanchez yelled. "Have you never learned that you are not supposed to touch an 0-8-4?"
"I can't let go!" Hartley cried.
The alarm went off. Oh shit.
"Hartley, just relax your hand," May said.
"She can't. And she won't," Sanchez hissed. "She has signed her own death certificate. Why do you think I hate this thing so much?"
Skye realised. May did too.
This thing killed people. And even Sanchez wouldn't be able to save them.
"Don't touch it," Hartley hissed, when Hunter tried to help her. "Leave me."
Sanchez could see that everyone was about to freeze in a) being worried about Hartley, b) stress, c) the question what to do now. She had to handle quickly, if she wanted this to end as it was supposed to be.
"May, Skye, Tripp, continue to get were we came for, leave with the quin jet. Idaho, Hunter, and I will take care of Hartley in the SUV. I know I'm not in the best position to give orders, but-"
"You're the best shot she has. Right," May responded. "Let's go!"
Back at the base, Coulson could hear everything through the coms.
"Sir, she knows she is not in the position to give orders," Koenig said. "That's not good in combination with her cover."
"I know," Coulson replied. "But she knows what is about to happen. This is the moment that she is the only one good enough to make the call."
While Skye, May, and Tripp ran to one side, Hunter, Idaho, Sanchez, and a screaming and crying Hartley ran to another one. Hunter and Idaho went in the front of the SUV, while Sanchez went in the back with Hartley.
"Shut your mouth and lay down."
Hartley... Yeah. If you have a weird alien object stuck on your hand, and you have the choice between ignoring someone who knows how it works, or listening to this same person... Easy choice.
"Close your eyes."
"What the-"
"HUNTER, SHUT THE FUCK UP!" She yelled. Hunter turned back in the front,  and she focussed back on Hartley her mind.

                                                                                                    *

When Izzy Hartley woke up in a room wich was entirely white, she knew it for sure. She was dead. The bloody thing on her hand had killed her.
"You're not dead. At least, not yet."
A young man - she thought he was her age - stood in the room, dressed in a white shirt and pants, bare feet.
"That thing is about to kill me, isn't it?"
"Actually... Actually not. Creel will block your car, and Idaho and you will die. That is something we can't change."
Izzy swallowed. She did not wanted to die.
"I don't want to die."
"I know. But you are destend to. Luckily for the two of you, you have my sister in your car, which gives both of you the choice."
It took her a minute before she had made the connection.
"You are-"
"Yes."
"She is-"
"Indeed."
"What is our choice?"
"You have three choices. A), die the painfull dead you are supposed to die, with Hunter cutting of your hand, and die in a carcrash, B) die a painless dead, C) die the dead you are supposed to die, but you will be resurrected again, and in exchange, you will serve in our service for hundred years. You can take all the experience with you to your next life, after you've served us, and that's it."
Her reaction was silence. This sounded as the biggest joke she'd ever heard.
"I can assure you, miss Hartley, this is as much a joke as much as I am the king of donkey world. I would choose wisely, and fast. Your car is about to get hit by something within five minutes."
Her mind told her that this wasn't a joke. It was the damn hard reality, and she had to make a choice. She had to make a choice, and fast.
She didn't want to give Hunter the trauma of cutting her hand off, and that she would die after, so option A was definitely a no go. Left B and C. She wasn't a person for the easy way, so that left option C open. Dying in a car crash, - she hoped without cutting her hand off, and that he would survive- , being resurrected, and that she had to work for two Asguardians. Well, she had heard the stories. It couldn't be that bad.
"I hear you've made your choice," the young man said. "You have chosen as we had expected."

                                                                                                 *

In Coulson's office, they were watching the situation. It looked bad. They had the jet, okay, that was a good thing. But the four in the car...
"I know it was a risk. If we went down today, we'd probably be down for good. But now we have a chance to survive," Coulson said to Mack and Koenig. "We have soldiers willing to sacrifice, but they need weapons. The enemy has the advantage. We need one of our own."
"You risked that for a quinjet?" Mack asked.
"No. For what we can do with one. Disappear. Become ghosts. That's how we have to live now... in the shadows, to save people, even when they don't know it, don't want it. Fitz said he could engineer cloaking. I'm affraid he can't do anything. The damage to his temperal lobe was too extensive. He's not the same, and since Simmons left, he's only getting worse. Simmons said she thought it be better without her here, but her leaving just broke him. In the months since, he has grown isolated, talking to himself more and more. We have to fight on for him. For those we've lost. We have to take risks, so the sacrifices they made, were not made in vain. And then, we'll disappear."

                                                                                                 *
And at the same moment, a suv crashed. It made a few flips, and ended up upside down, with just two bodies inside. One dead. One alive.