Chapter Text
Notes: Spoilers from Marvel:Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.
Summary: Maria Hill has an offer for Sam, and she won’t take no for an answer.
Tenacity
~*~
Sam Wilson rubbed his temple with one hand and held the phone to his ear with the other. “No,” he said for what seemed like the millionth time. “There’s no way we can increase the patient count without compromising quality. Not enough psychiatrists and counselors, not enough intake workers. We’re already way above capacity.”
The woman on the other end of the line droned on about patient wait times and the need to be more productive, but Sam already knew all of that. In the wake of the Veterans’ Administration crisis, the national VA decided to put the D.C. area hospitals under a microscope. Administrators like the one on the phone scrutinized every single detail of their operation looking for ways to improve performance and patient care. Sam was all for improved patient care, but he was at the end of his rope.
“Fine,” he said with resignation. “I’ll do what I can.” The line went dead and he dropped the phone back in its cradle with a bang. His head hurt. The walls of his tiny office felt like they were closing in on him. He leaned back in his chair until it creaked loudly in protest, propped his feet against his desk and stared out the window at the birds chittering on the ledge. One small sparrow pecked at another who had stolen his berry-laden twig. “I feel ya, buddy,” said Sam with a sigh.
A soft tap at the door drew his attention. “Come on in,” he said as he turned around.
“Hi, Sam. Do you have a minute?” Maria Hill stood in the doorway in a white suit, looking beautifully crisp and put together in a way that was hard for almost anyone to do in the late summer D.C. heat.
Sam sat up straighter in his seat and shuffled the stack of papers on his desk to one side. “Sure, yeah,” he replied. “Have a seat.” He tugged at the collar of his shirt and wished now he’d opted for something nicer than khakis.
“Thanks.” Maria settled into a worn leather chair. “I hope I didn’t catch you at a bad time. It looks like you have the weight of the world on your shoulders.”
“Not the entire world. Just the little corner of it we serve here.” He propped his elbows on his desk. “Every day, I discover a new layer of red tape.”
“It has to be hard, balancing patient care and federal oversight.”
“You have no idea. Somehow, I’m supposed to increase the number of patients we counsel here by 25%, with no increase in budget and a staff shortage. I just…I don’t know how I can make it happen.” Sam’s voice trailed off in uncertainty.
Maria nodded empathetically. “Have you had lunch yet? I know a great Mexican place about half a mile from here, and you look like you could use a break.”
Sam cocked his head and grinned. He didn’t know what he was expecting from Maria’s visit, but a lunch invitation wasn’t it. His interest piqued, he said, “That sounds great.”
Ten minutes later, they were seated in a small booth near a large window that faced the parking lot. Sam loaded a crispy tortilla chip with salsa and grimaced when a red clump of it landed on the table. Salsa thickness was the unit of measure by which he judged Mexican restaurants. This salsa passed his look test, but it tasted weak. If only it had a little more bite. He reached for the Tabasco sauce. “Do you mind? It needs a kick.”
Maria shook her head. “I’m not eating any. Eating salsa while wearing white is flirting with danger.”
Sam grinned and liberally sprinkled the Tabasco in the little black bowl of salsa. “I thought you liked flirting with danger.”
“Not when it comes to my wardrobe.” Maria laced her fingers together. “I guess you’re wondering why I came to see you.”
“You missed my flawless style and razor-sharp wit.” Sam curled one side of his mouth into a smile.
“Well, there is that,” said Maria, a teasing note in her voice. “But I have something else I want to discuss with you.”
Sam loaded up another chip. “Shoot.”
“A job offer.”
Sam paused mid-chew. “Uhh bwhaht?”
“A job offer,” she repeated. “At Stark Industries.”
“I have a job.” Sam took a sip of his water to clear the lingering heat from the salsa and leaned back against the booth bench. “Good benefits, federal retirement.”
“You’re a poorly paid mid-level worker mired in a pit of bureaucracy.”
“You don’t mince words, do you?” Sam crossed his arms over his chest. “I make enough.” He ignored the bureaucracy comment. That part was true.
“Whatever you’re making, I’ll double it.”
“Why? If I’m a lowly bureaucrat, why do you want me?”
Maria leaned forward and stared at him intently. “You’re a smart, focused, highly-trained soldier with excellent combat skills and the ability to clear a hallway in under three minutes. You don’t hesitate or fold under pressure. You’re familiar with military issue weapons and how they work. You can handle Tony’s particularly insipid brand of snark. In short, you’re a perfect fit.”
Sam’s eyes widened. She was serious. “Okay. Tell me about the position.”
“Director of Materials and Tests. You’d be responsible for conducting field trials on select Stark Industry military grade weapons, specifically combat and flight suits.”
“I thought Tony was out of the suit business.”
Maria smiled faintly. “He is, officially. Unofficially, there are some prototypes that need tweaking.” She glanced around the restaurant. “There may also be some special projects. Highly sensitive.”
That had his attention. “What sort of special projects?”
“The sort you don’t discuss at a Mexican restaurant.”
“S.H.I.E.L.D.?”
“No. They have their own agenda.” She gave Sam a pointed look. “And I have mine.”
Sam scratched his chin. “What if I say no?”
“I’ll raise the salary offer until you say yes.” Maria shot Sam a look of pure determination. She wasn’t going to take no for an answer.
“Can I think about it?”
“Of course,” Maria said, glancing at her watch. “You have until the food arrives.”
Sam shook his head. “There’s more to a job than a paycheck, and I bet your special projects will have bullets whizzing past my head.”
“Among other things.” Maria lowered her voice and leaned in close. “I need you, Sam. Hydra, Bucky, Steve’s telekinesis...that’s just the tip of a massive iceberg, and I don’t have many people I can trust.”
“But we blew up the Hydra lab.”
“We blew up that Hydra lab. There are more, and the scientists that ran the experiments are still out there. As long as those labs continue to operate, the threat remains, especially for Bucky and Steve.”
Sam stared at her. “You think they’re going to reactivate Bucky.”
“Yes. And Steve, too, given their mental bond. There could be more men out there that received the serum who we don’t even know about. Think about it. Hydra could have an entire army of super soldiers ready to be activated at a moment’s notice.”
Sam tapped his fingers against the table. Despite all the headaches that went along with working for the VA, he liked his job. His team at the hospital needed him, and the area veterans needed an advocate. But what if Steve needed him more? “If I say yes, I want some time off each month to volunteer at the VA hospital.”
“Done,” Maria quickly said. “Give your notice today. You’ll start with Stark Industries next Tuesday.”
Sam blinked. “I haven’t actually agreed yet.”
Maria arched an eyebrow at him.
“Yeah, okay, fine,” said Sam with an exaggerated sigh. “I’ll be at Stark Industries on Tuesday, ready to work.”
“Excellent.” Maria paused as the waitress delivered their food. “Bring an overnight bag with you. We may be taking a little trip.”
~*~
As Maria dropped Sam back off in front of the VA hospital, her phone jangled noisily in her purse. She fished it out. “Maria Hill.”
“Tell me he’s on board.” Nick Fury phrased it as more of an order than a question.
“He’s on board at double his current salary and time off to volunteer.” She shifted the phone to her other ear. “Bruce and Tony are on their way back to D.C. Clint and Natasha are coming to you in Buenos Aires. That’s everyone.”
“Almost everyone. Make the call to Cap. He’s vacationed long enough.”
“Yes, sir.” Maria ended the call and took a deep breath. She knew what that meant.
Phoenix Protocol was underway.