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#2
JUN 11 |
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The Joy of Capekilling, Part Two:
“First Blood”
“First Blood”
New York City Skyline – 2 weeks ago
Calvin Rankin felt the wind ruffle through his brown feathers as he stretched his wings. The wind ruffled them as he sailed over the concrete buildings below, his thoughts turned to the past few days. He had always strived to make something of himself with his powers, whether it be through Xavier’s X-Men in his youth or, more recently, with the Brotherhood. Yet, every time he tried he seemed to get knocked down again.
Why did he seem to be unable to become a great man even with the powers of all five of the X-Men and the ability to copy even more? He sighed and tried to let the worrying thoughts be blown away by the wind as it blew through his hair. He was glad he had retained the wings of Angel; when he had been powerless his heart had ached for the openness of the sky. He had spent hours just looking up into the blue yonder remembering the feeling of total freedom that he felt now, despite the worries dancing in his head.
Suddenly the hot blast of an energy discharge burned its way past his head. Reflexively, Calvin dove to the left, glancing back as best he could. Two SHIELD agents on sky-cycles were pushing their strange vehicles to the limit, catching up to him, and one of them had an energy pistol of some sort aimed at him in one hand. Another shot came at him but, expecting the shot, Calvin put up a telekinetic shield and the beam bounced harmlessly off it.
“It’s unlike you to shoot early, isn’t it, Humphries?” one of them called over the rush of the wind to his companion.
“I think I missed, Lucas,” the agent with the gun shouted to his companion. The agent had platinum blonde hair with a gap in between his front teeth.
“It’s not like you to miss,” laughed his companion. Agent Lucas had bushy brown hair and a nervous laugh. “Especially when you’re aiming at the back of men.”
“You watch your mouth!” Humphries said half-seriously as he took another shot at Calvin.
Calvin grunted in annoyance and then dove sharply down, folding his wings back. After a second he spreads his large wings and sailed back upwards, this time facing his attackers. He took two quick shots with his optic blasts as they came almost level with him. The two SHIELD agents dodged the blasts, turning sharply to either side.
“Did you see that?” Lucas called out incredulously.
Humphries waved a hand dismissively. “It isn’t anything I haven’t seen before.”
“Why am I not surprised?”
Already sick of their banter, Calvin dove down toward the city. It would be much easier to lose them there. He held his wings tight to his body and felt the wind rush stronger and stronger; it was a good thing his body had copied Angel’s unique eyes to cope with the stresses of flying, otherwise there was no way he would be able to see through his tears at this pace.
Then, without warning, something heavy slammed into his back, sending him spiraling. A net wrapped its way around him, pinning his wings and other extremities to his body. He was falling toward the city below and there was no way he was going to be able to stop himself. Memories flashed through his mind, he remembered the smell and smile of Captain UK, the rush of power when he first gained his abilities, and even his time with the X-Men. How could it all end like this?
Suddenly he was slowed and eventually stopped. “I’ve got our man in the bag!” Humphries said close by. Calvin craned his neck to see the two SHIELD agents smiling above him, a pair of guns with a mesh line connected to his net in their hands.
“Trust you to get our man,” Lucas laughed to himself once more. They both had British accents and they were getting on his nerves.
“What makes you assume that it’s just men that I catch?” Humphries replied in mock offense.
Calvin tried to reach out with his limited telepathic abilities and command them to let him go. “Damn!” He cursed to himself. They had some sort of psi-shields installed, as when he reached out to their minds he found nothing but what seemed like static.
“Let me take him in,” Lucas pleaded. “At least then I could say that I got a bird in the hand today.”
“You would be the one after a bird,” Humphries sniffed.
Calvin groaned and wondered if he was going to have to hear these bad jokes and innuendo all the way to wherever they were going as the agents kicked their sky-cycles into gear and headed away from where he had been going. Calvin didn’t bother struggling since this seemed to be his lot in life. Instead he sighed and tried to maneuver himself into a comfortable position.
Fort Raymond – Now
Fort Raymond hadn’t changed much in the two weeks since Agent Crowne’s arrival. Opulence and luxury were still the order of the day, at least as far as the furnishings were concerned. Something had changed though: the mood. Before Crowne’s arrival everyone had been charged with enthusiasm with their new fort and their new director. Now, everyone was on task and putting themselves through the daily grind.
The hall outside Crowne’s office bustled activly, though almost no one spoke as they charged on single-mindedly to their work. Inside his office, however, Crowne was talking on his video screen.
“Director Fury,” Crowne said in an upbeat tone, though his squeezing fists and tight eyes betrayed him.
“Agent Crowne, unhappy with my recent decision?” Fury smirked at the agent over the live feed.
“I thought I had some autonomy to prove myself,” Crowne got right to it, since obviously Fury was skipping the nicities. “How am I supposed to lead this group to success if I’m not even allowed to lead?”
“I thought I made it clear that you weren’t leading this team,” Fury frowned at him. “That’s Harrison’s job. You are to direct the facility in all of its aspects. I didn’t think you would make a rookie mistake like micro-managing your men. I needed a team out there and they were the best I had available, so I used them. That’s what they are there for.”
“They weren’t ready,” Crowne didn’t want to give up. If the Capekillers ended up looking bad he didn’t want it to be his fault. “They haven’t even gotten accustomed to their armors yet.”
“I have full confidence in Harrison’s ability to lead this team,” Fury said, dismissing Crowne’s objections. “If they can stop the thief they will.”
“And if they don’t?”
Fury sighed and looked seriously at the blonde SHIELD agent. “Then I have full confidence that you’ll handle it.”
With that the screen went black, leaving Crowne to sit and fume.
New York City – Now
Eric O’Grady shoved himself to his feet, which was no mean feat with his bulky Capekiller armor still on. That bitch had hurt him, and he attempted to rub his neck where she had struck him only to be reminded of another limitation of wearing armor. He and his team had been enjoying a nice supper when orders came directly from Fury to send them out immediately. They weren’t supposed to have been activated for another week, at least, and even then only pending a review by Agent Crowne.
“You okay, O’Grady?” Castillo asked, not taking his aim off Joystick. They had arrived just in time to locate Joystsick via heat sensors seconds before she had arrived on the roof, and O’Grady had paid for their eagerness to take on their first villain.
“I dunno,” O’Grady moaned a little as he glanced back at Joystick, who blew him a mocking kiss. “She might have done more damage than I first thought.” He wondered if the moan had been too much.
“O’Grady, you’re such a wuss,” Hunter laughed at him. “We come across our first villain, who happens to be fine as hell by the way, and you wanna cut and run.”
“Who said anything about running?” O’Grady retorted. Inside his suit of armor his shoulders slumped.
“What’s the matter, boys, am I already too much for you to handle?” Joystick smiled in that annoyingly smug way.
“Cancino, Hunter, flank her. Castillo, find some way to get behind her. O’Grady you’re with me,” Harrison ordered over their private signal. “She’s too fast for us to take one on one, so let’s find her weaknesses."
Eric sidled closer to Harrison while the other three quickly raced to comply. Joystick wasn’t stupid and it only took her a second to catch on to what they were doing. She took her two energy batons and slammed them together. Energy erupted from them and slammed into Castillo, knocking him onto his butt.
“Don’t just stand there,” Harrison shouted at Eric. The leader hefted his pulse rifle and began firing. “Light her up!”
Eric lifted the pulse rifle that came with his suit of armor and opened fire. He wondered where they got the armor from as, to him anyway, the armor resembled nothing more than a Tony Stark reject. It had the general configuration of Iron Man but was much bulkier and far less agile. They could easily survive a long fall but their Capekiller suits were never meant for anything as graceful as flying.
Eric and Harrison pummeled the villainess with pulse bursts. She blocked each shot with her batons, her arms almost blurs. At least Cancino and Hunter had their chance to flank her while Castillo regained his feet.
“Come on, you boneheads,” Harrison barked as he slowly advanced on Joystick. “Turn on your plasma shields!”
With a hum the circular plasma shields, made by an oscillating plasma generator on their suits’ forearms, deflected all of the shots that Joystick managed to angle at them. She backed up slowly, the cocky grin on her face was slowly beginning to fade and that made Eric smile. He advanced on her a little faster now, firing round after round at Joystick.
Joystick executed a perfect back flip just as Castillo charged up behind her. She extended both batons and smacked him across the back of the helmet as she flew over him. Castillo however was not to be underestimated. He was holding a small energy pistol backwards and nailed her in the shoulder with a well-placed shot.
“Ah! You little prick,” Joystick hissed. She slammed her batons together and again a beam came forth but Castillo had his plasma shield up first and though he had to brace himself against the impact his shield withstood it.
“Damn,” Joystick muttered to herself. Eric sniggered; Joystick had it coming to her. He nudged ever so closer. The rest of the Capekillers kept her under fire while Castillo fought her one on one. His shield against her batons, he had great defense but with the constant barrage it was hard to get a shot in.
She pummeled her batons against Castillo’s shield trying to slip in a hit over or undharpy, but Castillo had practiced long and hard in the suit and was the most adept at their use. A small line shot out from a shoulder compartment and embedded itself in Joystick’s arm. Ten thousand volts coursed through the line and directly into the woman’s veins. She stopped for just a second before grabbing the line and ripping it out.
“I’m not your average woman on the street,” she growled. “That wasn’t enough to drop me, but it was enough to piss me off!” Joystick used one hand to continue attacking Castillo, keeping him busy, while the other hand reached into one of her gauntlets and pulled out the strontium she had just recovered. “I didn’t want to have to do this already but you boys have forced my hand.”
She slid the strontium from one compartment in her gauntlet to another. Then she smiled. “Let’s try that again.”
Again she slammed her batons together and again Castillo braced himself against the blow behind his shield, but this time something was different. His shield held against the blast, at least for the first second or two then it overheated and failed. With a terrible hiss the shield disappeared and Castillo and his armor were up against the full strength of one Joystick’s energy blasts. Eric heard Castillo curse to himself when the blast impacted then fuzz and silence as the Capekiller was sent tumbling across the roof.
“That’s it!” Hunter charged forward with Cancino right behind him. She held each of the two back using only one baton each. She grinned.
“This isn’t good,” Harrison stopped shooting at her for a second. “The energy readings coming off her gauntlets have just quintupled!”
“Meaning?” Eric stopped shooting too and just stared at Harrison.
“Don’t stop!” Harrison barked. Eric aimed at the constantly moving Joystick and opened fire again. “Meaning she’s packing more heat than all of us put together.”
“Shit,” O’Grady stopped shooting again.
“What’re you doing?” Harrison shouted again. “Keep your damn teammates safe! You don’t stand a chance without them.”
SHIELD Helicarrier – Yesterday
Calvin Ranking sat in his tiny cell. After the two weird British SHIELD agents had dropped him to be processed they seemed to have run into some difficulty. They had been talking about sending him to the American government to be processed but it seemed several other governments wanted him as well. Now that terrorism was taken even more seriously that put SHIELD in a bad position. Normally they would have just held him themselves but evidently their holding cells were filling faster than they could empty them.
He tried to stretch his wings in the confined space but he could only spread them about two feet on each side before the walls began to hurt them. He would try to use his telepathy to find out what was happening in the helicarrier but the cells had some form of psi-shielding. He would use his eyes to blast his way out but they had some collar on him that prevented him from using energy based powers.
So for the past two weeks he waited to hear where he would be going. The only contact he had with SHIELD so fausages the agents that delivered the food and the night and morning guard, as almost everything else was automated. He scratched at his two-week old beard, as it was beginning to itch.
“How the hell do I always get myself into these messes?” he asked himself. There was no answer.
Hours passed, he heard someone walk by his cell and then leave a few minutes later, other than that it was silence. The energy shields that served as their doors absorbed the sound going out of the room but allowed sound to come into the room, that way the prisoners couldn’t communicate with each other, at least verbally. Some rough looking guy with jet black tattoos covering half his face had tried to communicate with him once via sign language, but Calvin had never learned sign language. Why should he bother when he had telepathy? They had taken that guy away yesterday.
“Rankin, Calvin,” he heard his name barked out.
“I’m right here,” he grumped back then shook his head. Idiot, he thought to himself, they can’t hear you.
A nameless agent stood in front of his door. “Stand with your back to the door at the far end of your room.”
Calvin sighed and stood up from the metal bench they called a bed. “Move aside, Shores, the Mimic’s not worth all that.”
Brushing past the agent came none other than one-eyed Nicholas Fury. Calvin couldn’t believe he warranted a visit from the head of SHIELD himself. “What do you guys want from me?”
The energy shield went down and Fury stepped into the room followed by his two nervous guard agents. “Try saying that again,” Fury smirked. “I’m afraid I couldn’t hear you behind the energy wall.”
“What do you guys want with me? Why have I just been locked up in here for so long without even a hint of a trial?”
“Listen, Rankin,” Fury’s tone told Calvin to shut up and listen. He wanted to open his mouth and tell Fury what exactly he could do to himself and where but instead he plopped back down on his 'bed' and listened.
“You’ve caused me and my organization enough of a headache for now,” Fury pointed at him. “I can’t send you to one nation without pissing two others off. You’re not worth the air you’re using up here or the weight you’re adding to the helicarrier. I think I might have an option that will get you stretching those wings again and get you out of my hair, at least temporarily. Only problem is I need you to sign a few waivers. Now you can either piss me off royally or you can sign these waivers.”
One of his guard agents dropped some papers in his lap and the other dropped a pen. “Your choice.”
Calvin looked at Fury; the man’s one good eye glimmered like a coal ready to burst into angry fire. He signed the waivers.
Fort Raymond – Now
Agent Crowne sighed. He had yet to get operations fully under way and already Fury was sticking his nose and fingers in where he had promised not to. Of course Crowne wasn’t surprised by the development but he couldn’t help but be pissed off anyway. It seemed no matter what he did he was screwed. If he took his own initiative and followed his instincts then he would be demoted and humiliated. If he tried to do as he was told and play how they told him to play then they would interfere to the point of his own failure.
A knock came at the door. “Yes, yes, what is it?!” He had little patience for interruptions tonight.
“You sent for me?” It was agent Goddard. He was an American but raised and long lived in Denmark. He had short graying hair framing the top of a bald head, which he held like a vulture, his overly large Adam’s apple protruding like a bend in his neck. He was the scientist in charge of Project: Soldier Ant. In the short time that he had been here Crowne had found this man’s company the least tiresome.
“Yes,” Crowne waved him in, pulling out a shot glass and a small bottle of triple-filtered vodka. “Have a seat.”
Agent Goddard quickly sat down, awaiting his customary shot along with his having to listen to Agent Crowne complain and plan. The facility director told him that he just needed someone to bounce ideas off of, but Goddard thought the man needed an audience.
“Goddard,” at least Crowne didn’t insist on calling him by his first name, "by now you’ve heard about the incident involving me aboard the helicarrier.”
“Not really, sir,” Goddard lied as Crowne poured his shot. “I’ve only heard that you were once head of interrogations and then something happened and you were quickly sent down here to oversee operations.”
“Well, I’m going to let you in on a few secrets,” Crowne lowered his voice. “Provided you can keep them that way."
Goddard took his shot in one quick swig and it burned going down just how he liked it. He looked at his glass, disappointed it was already empty and placed it back on the desk. “Of course, sir.” Which is what he said whenever the blonde man stopped one of his dissertations and looked at him expectantly.
“Good,” Crowne nodded. To Goddard’s amazement the man took the shot glass and poured another, but instead of handing it to the scientist he took a shot himself, wincing as it made its way down his esophagus. The scientist was happy to see Crowne fill another glass and slide it toward him. Whatever Crowne was going to tell him really was a secret and likely not a pleasant one.
“I was head of interrogations just a few weeks ago,” the director admitted, and from the sound of it he wished he still was. “Things were going very well for me, I knew how to get the information I wanted from people and I knew who to have around me. My men were the best trained interrogation agents SHIELD had ever had, still are. We worked closely with several investigation branches when their cases came up. There was one in particular . . .”
Goddard took his shot while Crowne stared off in the distance his face had gone devoid of emotion, but there had been plenty of it in his voice. So it was a particular case that had helped bring about his downfall; there were rumors that Crowne had broken the rules for a case that his friend had become personally involved in. No one knew for sure since no one knew how to keep a secret like Fury did, and until now Crowne had refused to even talk of the incident. What had changed?
“You see, no matter what I do, I can’t win,” Crowne suddenly said. “There was a case aboard the helicarrier, handled by one of our top investigators, which had been caught at a complete standstill. Well, I got lucky, I picked up someone on a completely different charge and before I could even put the fear of God into him he spilled the beans on something completely unexpected, our halted case.” The director went silent again but this time his silence was more thoughtful.
“The biggest problem with this case was the guy I was interrogating. We needed more from him than he had. If I hadn’t done what I did that case would have dried up and innocent people would have paid for it. Instead, I did what I had to do and I paid for instead. Damned if you do and damned if you don’t.”
They sat a moment in silence and Goddard was surprised to find he felt his two shots. He had actually been listening, perhaps for the first time, and now Crowne seemed content with leaving the story where he had left it. He had gotten some background information but none of the juicy details that everyone wanted to know.
“What happened, sir?” Goddard couldn’t believe he was asking.
“Hmph, well I did something highly against protocol to try and solve a case, but even worse I got caught." Crowne slid the bottle of vodka back in his desk followed by the shot glass. Goddard knew that meant the end of story time. He sighed and rose to his feet and grabbed the handle to leave.
“Oh, and Goddard?” the blonde director called. “Don’t forget what I said about keeping these things between you and me.”
“Of course not, sir." The scientist opened the door and left. Crowne meanwhile checked his comm pad to see if he’d missed anything from Harrison. When he saw there was nothing he sighed and stared out the window into the night sky.
New York City – Now
O’Grady ducked as a reflected energy beam that narrowly missed his helmet. Things had gone from bad to good to worse than ever. Castillo’s armor was malfunctioning and all he could do was take pot shots from where he had landed. Hunter and Cancino were taking her on at the same time but from what O’Grady was hearing over the comm system their batteries were getting low just from blocking her blows.
“What do we do, sir?” Eric asked as he turned on his own shield and deflected another stray blast.
“Whatever we can,” Harrison grunted, pulling something from a compartment in his suit. O’Grady couldn’t quite make out what it was since he had to keep focused on the fight just to keep from getting hit.
Joystick was twirling her energy batons so fast they seemed to be just one big circular blur. No matter how hard they tried to get in a shot or a hit the batons seemed to block the way. The criminal was faster than a normal human and stronger as well. It was a good thing that they had their suits to even the playing field, even if they didn’t seem to be doing their job at the moment. O’Grady was sure they would be worse off without them.
“Battery charge is at critical levels,” O’Grady heard the annoyingly pleasant interactive voice announce over their comm. system.
Sirens could be heard wailing in the distance, and they were getting closer. The last thing they needed was for the local cops to get involved. O’Grady glanced at Harrison for some clue about what to do but the man was just punching buttons on his forearm display. Eric just held back until he was told to move in.
“Well, boys,” Joystick said in a mock-friendly voice, “I think I hear my cue to bail. Sorry to leave you hanging.” She slammed her batons together, sending Cancino hurtling backwards. She flipped over Hunter and attached something to the top of his helmet. He scrambled trying to get whatever it was off, frantically swiping at his helmet while she leaped over the roof edging and was gone.
Harrison was pissed to discover Hunter had frantically been trying to remove gum from the top of his helmet and that O’Grady had just stood where he had been for basically the entire encounter.
Hunter flashed him a dirty look. “Thanks for all the help there, O’Grady,” Hunter’s voice was swimming in sarcasm. “Maybe next time you can take her on one on one.”
“Shut up,” Harrison growled. “We all acted like rookies tonight. Now let me call Crowne and deliver the bad news in peace.”
Everyone moved away, Cancino and Hunter going over to help Castillo out of his faulty armor. O’Grady stood to the side and watched. Everyone could hear Crowne’s furious voice emanating from Harrison’s direction.
O’Grady groaned.
Fort Raymond – 3 hours later
Eric sat waiting his turn to get reamed. When they had returned, Agent Crowne had been waiting for them, his normally calm pale face a gleaming red. Harrison had been the first to get it and had probably gotten it the worst judging by how long he had been in the office.
Cancino had been next, followed by Hunter, and lastly Castillo, who had some minor wounds that needed treating in medical. For his burned neck all they gave Eric was some Neosporin and a roll of gauze, they hadn’t even given him anything to tape it with.
Castillo wasn’t in as long as anyone else when he opened the door with a sour expression on his face. He jammed his thumb towards the awaiting Crowne. “Your turn, O’Grady. At least one of us deserves what he is going to get.”
“So much for team work and all that garbage you spew,” Eric spat back when he passed by the limping Hunter. Hunter glared at him but didn’t dare do anything in front of the already enraged facility director, just as O’Grady had planned.
“Close the door,” Agent Crowne ordered in a chilling monotone voice. Eric was quick to do as he was told. “Sit down.”
“I know you’ve already . . .” O’Grady began.
“I don’t want to hear it, Agent O’Grady,” Crowne waved his hand to silence him. “You’re off the team.”
There was a moment’s silence. Eric couldn’t believe what he had just heard. How could they be mad at him? They hadn’t even allowed him to finish training and it didn’t help that he was the only newbie on the team. They must have all come in here and trash talked him to save their own butts.
“Sir, I don’t think you’re seeing the whole pict . . .” O’Grady started again.
“I said I don’t want to hear it, Agent,” Crowne frowned at him. “I don’t want to hear it because I don’t care. The decision has already been made and your replacement is already here. Arrived while you were gone screwing things up.”
“I don’t understand . . .” Eric said more to himself than Crowne.
Agent Crowne sighed, as if he couldn’t believe he had to explain this, “You’re too inexperienced to be on the team, O’Grady. You’ll be relegated to guard duty until I can figure out where to place you.”
Without another word Crowne rose from behind his desk and opened to door for Eric to leave. Numbly Eric stood and walked out of the office into the hallway where his former teammates were waiting.
“Agent Harrison,” Crowne called. “As you already know, Agent O’Grady is no longer under your command. Let’s go get your new teammate. O’Grady, you get to bed.” Crowne waved his hand in the general direction of their quarters. “Report to Agent Carter at 0700 and she’ll tell you where your new quarters are.”
Eric looked at his teammates but none of them would meet his eyes. Had they really ratted him out or was Agent Crowne telling him the truth when he said his replacement came while they were out fighting Joystick? Finally, Cancino offered him an awkward wave before following the rest down the hall.
Agent Crowne was glad Agent O’Grady’s reassignment was over, as it reminded all too well of his own. He walked down the hall toward some low-security holding cells, which was where there new Capekiller awaited. He wondered if Agent Harrison was going to like this idea any more than he did.
They had to take the elevator down to the first level. After the butt-chewing he gave them no one spoke all the way down. At least they wouldn’t pester him with questions or, even worse, suggestions. The elevator chimed and they all filed out and followed him to a hallway that started out the same as the rest. Soon, however, the lush carpet faded to a thinner less pleasing rug, and the walls, painted so well in the rest of the base, were slightly weathered with stains marring the natural beauty of it.
“Where are we going?” he heard someone ask their teammate.
“We’re almost there,” he told them. He figured he didn’t need to keep him in the dark about everything. When one was in interrogation you learned all about secrets, extracting them and keeping them. Sometimes it wasn’t what you did to or told a patient it was what you kept hidden from them that broke them.
They turned a corner and there stood two SHIELD agents guarding a wide metal door. When they spotted Crowne they saluted and stood at ready. “Bring him on out.” They nodded and entered a code in a keypad followed by a card swipe. They could hear the tumbler boom as the door unlocked and they opened it. They disappeared for a second then came back out, followed by another person.
Agent Crowne knew Calvin Rankin, aka the Mimic, on sight, though, of course, he had known it would be him. However his profile seemed to underestimate him. The man had shoulders twice as broad an any normal human and large cords of muscle covered his body with overly large hands and feet that resembled an ape’s more than a man’s. Giving an even more powerful presence to the man were his large stately brown wings half-stretched behind him.
Crowne smiled; perhaps he could get something done after all. “May I introduce you to your new teammate, Calvin Rankin, but you will address him as Mimic out in the field."
“What the hell?” he heard someone say under their breath. He had figured reactions would be about like this.
“It’s been a long day and night for you all,” Crowne said after a moment of awkward silence. Rankin rustled his wings. “You all head off to bed and don’t bother reporting until ten, you’ve earned it. Don’t worry about your new teammate; he’ll have his own accommodations, for now.”
Grumbling, the already broken team of Capekillers headed toward their beds, molified at least that he'd had the decency to give them some extra sleep.
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To Be Continued...
Next: In Capekillers #3: Mimic isn’t exactly welcomed to the team, and what exactly does Fury have up his sleeve putting known criminals on his team?
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