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Chapter Text

{People talk of men and monsters. How the men are great and the monsters are evil. They speak of men who become monsters and monsters who redeem themselves to become men. Speak of monsters who appear to be men and men who appear monstrous. But sometimes the world isn't so clear. Sometimes, we need to look beyond the faces of men and monsters to see who they truly are.}

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“How many are there?” asked Coulson quietly, his eyes locked on the screen as a gifted man, likely an inhuman, released an energy wave that flattened several feet of stone wall around him. He was enormous, head shaved and tattoos covering his arms. He appeared every bit the monster that the video declared him to be. As they watched, the man stormed forward and off the edge of the camera's feed, disappearing in pursuit of something out of frame.

“I've found twenty-seven in total,” stated Daisy, pausing the video as she leaned away from the room's control table. Her denim shirt rustled as she shifted, turning to glance at the others gathered in the briefing room. Coulson, May, and Hunter stood around the table, each looking just as grim and stoic as the next. “What's next?”

“I want you to look into the source,” stated Coulson, shifting to reach towards the controls for the video screen. A glint stopped him though, his arm hovering in mid-air. The skeletal, silvery material of his false limb flashed in the light, almost mocking his loss. No one said a word about the pause or attempted to snap him from his thoughts. The loss of his hand seven months ago had been a shock and there was no doubt in anyone's mind that he was still recovering mentally. The new hand, though finely crafted and skillfully attached, was hardly a replacement for the lost one.

It was Daisy who broke the silence, tapping some buttons on the control table and pulling up another screen. “That's gonna be tricky. It doesn't look like all of the videos are from the same source.”

“You're saying multiple sources may be trying to release negative information on gifted individuals to the public?” asked May, her eyes sliding towards the screen as two videos appeared side by side.

“Not exactly,” stated Daisy. Her fingers danced along the familiar controls, hitting play on another video on the left of the second. A man is violently thrown from his home, jumped on a moment later by a man who looks more animal than anything. His skin appears covered in fur, talon-like nails glinting in the street lights just out of frame. She pauses the video there, leaving the image of the gifted in plain view before activating a third video. This one is just as violent, but instead of a man being attacked by a gifted, it shows what appears to be a family of gifted individuals protecting themselves from an obviously unruly mob brandishing bats and other improvised weapons. Daisy pauses the video again just as one of the women throws a heavy stream of water up between the family and the attacking men, the water catching mid-motion on screen. “These two videos show gifted and Inhumans differently.”

“One is violent, displaying aggression and the other is in self-defense,” agreed May, her expression carefully neutral as she glanced between the images. “You think it's a propaganda play.”

“It might be two different groups or there might be more,” admitted Daisy with a sigh, folding her arms on the table as she stared up at the images. “It almost feels like a Rising Tide information dump.”

“How?” asked Hunter, leaning forward to rest a palm on the table as he gestured towards the videos. “I mean, these are two pretty different perspectives, Daisy.”

“Which is exactly what we'd do,” explained Daisy with a shrug, tapping at the controls. The videos minimized. “We'd have multiple people working on the same story. They'd all release whatever information they had at the same time but without coordinating with each other. It gave people all the information we could find and let them make up their own minds about what to believe.”

“Right,” agreed Hunter with a hump, “and Fitz built wings to make pigs fly.”

Rolling her eyes slightly, Daisy ignored the jab and pulled back up the video that had been running before. Hitting play, the female voice who spoke of men and monsters filled the room momentarily as the man from before entered the middle of the park again. Not a second later, something sets him off and he sends off the energy wave that melted the decorative walls. She paused near the end of the video, pulling up a page filled with code and highlighting a line on screen.

It didn't make any sense to anyone present; it just appeared to be a randomly generated series of numbers with a few letters at the front and back. There was nothing really setting it apart from anything else on the screen, either. It all looked generically generated.

“This is a Rising Tide tag,” stated Daisy, hitting some buttons and opening another window. This one was, again, all code. There was something odd about it though and half a second later, everyone saw why. The Rising Tide logo appeared on the screen, unfurling across the monitor. “Basically, these things are like our version of text messages.”

“What does the message say?” asked Coulson, lowering his hand at last to the table as he turned his full attention on the screen. His eyes scanned the whole image looking for the clue, one no one could have found without being shown.

“It's a call to arms,” explained Daisy. She stepped around the table then, pointing at the code along the T's underside. “When this goes out in a video, it means the person who posted is asking for links to similar videos.”

“So, do you think the same person is releasing all of these or what?” asked Hunter, eyes glancing towards the door. Anxiety was clear on his face and no one needed to ask why. His worry for Bobbi was unmistakable. After what had happened to the specialist, no one could blame him for wanting to get back to her as soon as possible.

“No,” sighed Daisy, tapping slightly on the table, “there's no embedded message in the negative videos. Plus, I keep coming across some strange code I don't recognize.”

“See what you can find out about that,” stated Coulson quietly, looking down at his fake hand again as he tried twitching the fingers slightly. They moved, though if it was the way he'd wanted was impossible to tell. “I want as much information the source of these videos as you can get as soon as possible.”

“You got it,” agreed Daisy, closing out the videos and heading for the door. “Lincoln and I have a few hits to check out too, so we might be gone a while.”

“Noted,” called out Coulson as Daisy left the room without being dismissed. His eyes almost immediately turned back to Hunter and May, both of whom gave him strange looks. “What?”

“You really plan to just let her come and go as she pleases, don't you?” remarked Hunter in what bordered on awe. “Just do whatever she wants.”

“Daisy is our best chance to make sure any gifted individuals we find are tagged and appropriately handled,” stated Coulson simply, shrugging slightly. “It's her thing and I'm going to allow her to do it in whatever way she deems fit.”

“Which is why you gave her that warehouse,” remarked May, disapproval clearly tinting her voice. “A facility separate from our own base that we have no control over.”

“The Inhumans don't trust us right now, May,” reminded Coulson with a sigh pulling up a different file on the screen. “The separate facility, Daisy leading them, it's all there to make them more comfortable. The last thing we need is a large scale attack by the Inhumans against us or any other group. All that will do is complicate matters.”

“He has a point,” pipped up Hunter, checking his watch. “Could we hurry this up? I'd really like to check on Bobbi before she works herself into an exhausted heap.”

“Right,” agreed Coulson, opening several documents on screen. “Recently there's been a rash of thefts focused on sensitive scientific equipment and a variety of chemicals. There haven't been a lot of clues as to who's behind it, but the strikes are too organized for a scattered group of thieves either.”

“You think someone is building a lab,” surmised May, her eyes scanning the screen,

“Or a bomb with that kind of chemical cocktail,” muttered Hunter, shaking his head slightly. “Let me guess, you want me to figure out who's behind it all.”

“Talk with Fitz and Simmons, see what they think could be made with those chemicals and that equipment,” confirmed Coulson, pulling up photos of several very large, very expensive looking pieces of lab equipment. “No one steals equipment like this just for a profit. It's one of a kind.”

“If you aren't going to use it, it's worthless stolen,” agreed May with a nod, her finger tapping slightly on the table. “You probably have a use for it.”

“Or a buyer,” added Hunter, tilting his head slightly as he stared up at the digital blow-ups. “Can I have the file?”

Coulson silently handed him the file, which he promptly flipped open and skimmed. After a moment, he shook his head once and shut the folder again with a faint snap. “If I didn't know they were gone, I'd swear Hydra had something to do with this.”

“The Avengers and Fury basically eliminated them,” dismissed Coulson easily, shutting down the console and monitor. “Even if there are a few remnants floating around, I doubt they're organized enough to pull this off.”

“It's possible Coulson,” corrected May, shaking her head slightly. “Even if they aren't well organized, they're still mostly professionals. It's entirely possible that some small remain section of Hydra stole that equipment.”

“And it's equally possible that it was another group rising to fill the power void Hydra left in its wake,” countered Coulson calmly, nodding at Hunter. “It's why I'm asking Hunter to look into it. He has contacts we don't, the kind who would hear about things like this and might know what's going on.”

“No promises on that one,” warned Hunter as he, too, headed towards the door with another glance at his watch. “I'll let you know what I get.” Then he was gone as well without a formal dismissal.

“You really shouldn't let them do that,” remarked May as she finally stepped up beside Coulson, glancing through the door where Hunter had vanished. “It's bad form.”

“Hunter is worried about Morse and Daisy is operating primarily with Lincoln,” reminded Coulson with a shrug as he finally headed for the door. “They're fine.”

“It's not exactly a sign of discipline or a mark of respect,” pointed out May as she trailed behind him, stepping up as soon as they were in the hall so they could walk side by side.

“No, it's not,” agreed Coulson with a shrug, turning down the hall that lead to his office. “But I'm trying to give Daisy room to grow on her own. We need her to help us keep the Inhumans out of sight.”

“And she's doing a great job of it,” muttered May sarcastically. “There's only 27 videos focused on the Inhumans and gifted floating around the internet.”

“And she's already determined there are likely two sources,” pointed out Coulson as he paused in front of his office door to meet May's gaze. “I trust Daisy with this one, May. I know you and Weaver have some issues with that, but she's one of them. If anyone is going to be able to make them feel safe when it comes to SHIELD and their powers, it's Daisy. We've seen her work her magic on people before.”

“Not everyone is going to fall for her, Coulson,” chided May, folding her arms across her chest. “What about the ones who don't?”

“If they don't cause trouble, I don't see a problem,” stated Coulson simply, turning towards his office door and raising his left hand to open it. He paused again when the silver appendage came into view, gulping slightly as he slowly moved the fingers in a testing motion.

May reached passed him to open the door without a word, gesturing for him to enter. If Coulson was embarrassed or upset by her gesture, he didn't demonstrate it. Instead, he stepped inside and crossed to his desk, allowing May to pull the door closed behind her. She crossed to the sofa inside, dropping onto it in front of a coffee table and pulling the first folder in a stack resting there towards her. Coulson hadn't said a word when she'd dropped the pile in the corner of the table before their meeting and he didn't say anything now as she began to work. Instead, he sat at his own desk and pulled up a video feed, offering a smile to the man who appeared on the screen a moment later.

“General Ross,” greeted Coulson warmly, leaning back a little in his chair. “I was wondering when I'd hear from you.”

The familiar pinched face of General Ross filled the screen, his displeasure evident. “Coulson. Your people know anything about these recent thefts?”

“I wasn't aware grand theft was in your purview,” remarked Coulson, leaning back against his desk and casually crossing his arms over his chest.

“They are when some of the thefts occurred a facilities contracted by the US military and the equipment was purchased with government funds,” snapped Ross. A scowl curled across his face as he spoke, the matter clear getting further under his skin than would be expected. “Your people know anything?”

“Nothing yet,” replied Coulson, shifting slightly as the cold metal of his fake hand brushed his real one. “One of my men is going to speak with some of his...less scrupulous contacts and see what he can find out. I didn't realize this was military technology we were dealing with. It definitely changes the value.”

“That about half the stolen goods are military-grade tech isn't something I want known, Coulson,” growled Ross. “Just make sure your man keeps his mouth shut about that.”

“He isn't aware of that fact,” assured Coulson calmly. “I'll contact you when I have some information. Try not to pop a vein between now and then.”

Ross looked like he was about to say something, but Coulson cut the call short. He pretty much knew what was coming at that point anyway. Ross wasn't exactly complimentary most of the time.

Turning back to his desk, Coulson settled into his chair and pulled up the file he'd given Hunter earlier. In his copy, he added a note about the stolen materials being military grade then set about looking at what, exactly, had been government funded of the stolen material and what had been private.

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Leaning back in her chair, Daisy let out a sigh as she stared at the monitor in front of her. Lines of code and numbers spread out across the screen, displaying information only a true computer programmer and hacker could understand. It was a mess of data that made perfect sense to her, though. It was just a question of what it all meant.

“Find anything?” asked Lincoln as he stepped in behind her, leaning over to look at the screen. He blinked once in confusion, then shook his head and leaned back again after a second, rubbing his eyes a little. “I still say that stuff should give you a headache.”

“It's just code,” dismissed Daisy easily, hitting a few more buttons. A map came up a second later, which she rapidly typed a series of numbers into before hitting enter. Almost immediately, the map began zooming in, centering on a building in the middle of Chicago. It looked like a rundown tenement building. Certainly not a habitable location.

“That doesn't look promising,” remarked Lincoln, glancing at Daisy with a raised eyebrow. “You sure that's right?”

“Positive,” confirmed Daisy, leaning back a little and folding her arms across her chest. “It was embedded in the message. That's the location of the modem that uploaded some of the videos.”

“Which ones?” asked Lincoln, squatting beside her so he could see the map better.

“The positive ones,” replied Daisy, pulling up some satellite images of the area. “It looks like a pretty standard Rising Tide location, honestly.”

“Run down and a safety hazard?” joked Lincoln, glancing at her with a smile. She didn't smile back, causing Lincoln's own smile to fall. “Please tell me you never lived anywhere that bad.”

“I lived out of a van for years before SHIELD picked me up,” stated Daisy as she pulled up another page of code. “The negative videos appear to have been uploaded by bouncing the signal through multiple modems.” She hit a few more keys and let out a frustrated sigh. “I can't track these.”

“Why?” asked Lincoln, raising an eyebrow at her. “Coulson says you’re an amazing hacker.”

“At least one of the modems the signal was bounced through has been turned off,” explained Daisy with another frustrated sound. “It's not there anymore, so I can't track it.”

“Was it a phone upload?” suggested Lincoln. “Maybe they uploaded the videos are from a phone and you can get a number.”

“Even if it was a phone, the device was using an internet signal,” stated Daisy, jotting down the address of the tenant building and standing. “Come on, we should check this place out.”

“What about the negative videos?” questioned Lincoln as he stood so Daisy could scoot her chair back. “Shouldn't you keep looking for something on those?”

“At this point there's no real way to trace the source,” repeated Daisy with an irritated sigh as she stood. One of her hands went up to run through her shortened locks, musing her hair slightly out of place. “The person who released the other videos was a Rising Tide hacker. I found the same embedded code in each of the positive videos.” Her voice shifted then, turning almost unhappy as she added: “At this point, following up with that hacker is probably our better bet.”

“You don't sound thrilled with that idea,” remarked Lincoln, crossing his arms. “Should we expect trouble?”

“Maybe,” admitted Daisy, turning to fully face Lincoln. “I'm gonna ask Hunter to come with us, just in case.”

Lincoln's brow furrowed at her words, his displeasure at the idea clear. “If you're this worried, maybe we shouldn't go.”

Sighing, Daisy tried to find a way to explain her unease, ultimately letting out a frustrated groan before gesturing at the computer monitor. “Honestly? Finding this person was too easy. Maybe they're new blood or something, but it should have taken me longer than two hours to find the source of the videos.”

“You think it's a trap,” stated Lincoln, understanding crossing his face.

“I think whoever this is wants someone to come find them,” corrected Daisy with a shrug. “If it's us or someone else, I can't tell. But I don't want to show up unprepared.”

“I won't argue with that,” agreed Lincoln as she turned towards the door. He followed her from the room, towards the gym where Hunter and Bobbi tended to be found these days. Well, Hunter did at least. Bobbi had been spending more and more time in the labs as she healed. It was alright though; her PhD in biology (the one no one had known she had) was coming in handy. Simmons was definitely happy for the company.

Pushing open the doors to the gym a few minutes later, Daisy immediately cut across the room to the corner where she could see Hunter sitting with Bobbi. The blond specialist was sitting down, clearly out of breath. It had become a common view, one that everyone accepted. Bobbi was likely never going to be the same after her run-in with Ward.

“Hunter, you got a minute?” asked Daisy, waving down the Brit.

He glanced up as they approached, checking on Bobbi once more before standing to approach them. “We're in the middle of some physical therapy.”

“Actually, I'm pretty sure I'm about done for today,” wheezed Bobbi, clearing her throat a little. “Gotta watch how hard I push myself.”

Hunter made a face but nodded all the same, accepting her words before turning his focus back onto Daisy and Lincoln. “What's wrong?”

“I managed to track down the location some of those videos were uploaded from,” explained Daisy, waving the piece of paper around a little. “I was hoping you'd come with us as backup.”

“You, the powerful Quake, need back up?” questioned Hunter, his eyebrow rising as he crossed his arms. “What's got you spooked?”

“Finding the location was too easy,” explained Daisy with a sigh. “It might just be whoever this is doesn't have the experience to hide their trail well, but if they're a Rising Tide hacker then they're probably asking for someone to come visit.”

“SHIELD?” asked Hunter, his brow rising. “Or someone else?”

“I don't know,” admitted Daisy. “That's why I want you to come along as backup. In case something does go wrong.”

“I would Flower,” assured Hunter unhappily, glancing over at Bobbi. He dropped his voice a little, clearly in an attempt not to be over-heard. “But I don't really want to leave Bobbi right now.”

“Hunter, go do your damn job,” stated Bobbi, coughing slightly as she pushed to her feet. “I'll be fine. We're done with physical therapy today anyway. Simmons is going to run my breathing therapy and I don't need you to sit there for an hour staring at me in utter boredom while I do it.”

“Bob...” started Hunter, only for Bobbi to cut him off with a sweep of her hand.

“Skye, tranquilize him if you have to,” insisted Bobbi, her insistent gaze moving to Daisy. “Just get him out of here for a while. He's making me want to climb the walls.”

“It's Daisy now, Bobbi,” reminded Daisy as she took the merc's arm. Hunter continued to pout as she pulled him towards the exit from the gym, though he didn't really resist at that point. “C'mon Hunter, we need to get moving and you need to change before we do.”

“First you steal me from my wife and now you're trying to change me?” asked Hunter in mock horror. “You have a lot of nerve.”

“Your ex-wife half shoved you at me because your hovering is driving her crazy,” corrected Daisy, not commenting on the change part of that comment as she practically shoved him into the men's locker room. “Lincoln, make sure he doesn't sneak out.”

“Now you're getting me a babysitter?” asked Hunter, poking his head back out. “What am I, five?”

“Every once in a while you are,” confirmed Bobbi as she passed the group heading for the women's locker room. “Especially when you eat cookies in bed.”

“I don't recall you complaining!” called out Hunter before Lincoln half shoved the man back into the locker room with a disgusted look on his face.

Daisy actually laughed before following Bobbi into the women's room, heading straight for her locker and the gear she kept there. Fitz had managed to outfit her and Lincoln with slimmer bullet proof vests that could easily fit under normal clothing. It meant they weren't likely to scare anyone they were trying to recruit, but it gave them some protection in the field. She might be able to stop bullets, but she had to be able to react quick enough first.

“Are you really worried something could go wrong?” asked Bobbi, appearing around the side of the lockers sans a shirt. She looked tired and the fresh scar from the bullet that had damaged her lungs stood out in bright contrast to her otherwise pale skin.

“Honestly? Kinda,” admitted Daisy as she pulled on the slim vest. “I don't know what we'll find and that's what concerns me more. If it's just a Rising Tide hacker who forgot a step in their masking network, then we should be alright. These videos are pretty sketchy though and I'm still not sure if one person is posting all of them or if there's many people at work here.”

“Some you could track and some you couldn't though,” pointed out Bobbi as she leaned against the lockers. “Doesn't that mean they're different people?”

“Not even close,” corrected Daisy with a sigh. “All it means is they wanted us to find someone or something. You don't leave a clue like that unless you want to and if these are all the same person and they only left clues in some of the videos, that's a bigger red flag.”

“Where was the location anyway?” asked Bobbi, glancing at the pocket where she had tucked the coordinates.

“Chicago,” stated Daisy, removing the coordinates from her pocket and offering them to Bobbi. “It's a rundown tenant building, pretty much the exact place I'd expect a Rising Tide hacker to hide in.”

One of Bobbi's eyebrows rose as she passed the paper back. “Why?”

“Because people aren't going to poke around,” explained Daisy with a shrug. Finishing with her vest, she reached for her shirt and pulled it over her head. “Hackers don't really want to be found, so they aren't going to live in places where people are likely to question what they do all day.”

“They sound like spies,” chuckled Bobbi as she turned and headed for the showers. “Keep Hunter safe out there, Skye.”

“Daisy,” corrected Daisy with a shake of her head as she shut her locker. “I'll bring him back in one piece.”

“Good!” shouted Bobbi, the word followed by a coughing sound.

Wincing slightly, Daisy quickly exited the locker room to find both Lincoln and Hunter waiting outside. Hunter appeared more than a little anxious, but she ignored that as she looped her arm in his and pulled him towards the hanger. “C'mon Hunter, the sooner we get to Chicago, the sooner you can go back to driving Bobbi crazy.”

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Stepping into the lab, Coulson approached Fitz where the young scientist was perched as his work station, hands carefully maneuvering a set of controls. Little hand-like appendages danced in front of him with every button he pushed, turning and plucking at the delicate circuits in front of him. It was a gift from Mack- a machine to help Fitz return to the delicate work he had before by giving him some mechanical assistance. It had done wonders to help Fitz work with the small circuits he'd once loved again.

“Coulson,” greeted the Scotsman, waving him over with a slightly jerky motion. Though Fitz's fine motor skills were still a far cry from what they'd once been, he was gradually improving. “How's the arm working?”

“Perfectly Fitz,” assured Coulson, raising the hand to click the fingers a little. The metal glinted in the light of the room, causing him to wince slightly.

Fitz, however, seemed entranced with the form and motion momentarily before muttering out a 'right' and turning back to the table in front of him. Instead of going for the controls though, he picked up a pile of flesh-colored something and offered it to Coulson. “I'm assuming this is what you're here for.”

“Is that it?” asked Coulson as he removed the fleshy glove from Fitz, holding it carefully as he examined it.

“Yes, that should provide you with some neurosensors in your hand,” confirmed Fitz, nodding slightly as he spoke. “You just need to tap the small disk at the base once you have it on and the external sensors will begin transmitting information to the neurosensors in the hand. It won't be as sensitive as flesh of course, but it's something.”

“Enough that you'll stop knocking over glasses and dropping things,” stated a deep male voice just before Mack stepped into view. The larger man offered Coulson a smile before leaning against Fitz's work bench. “Give it a go, see if it works.”

“Right,” agreed Coulson uneasily, rolling up his sleeve and pulling on the glove-like device carefully. It was almost the same color as his skin and as he lined it up, he found the sight comforting. “I might keep it even if the sensors don't work.”

“Give them a go and let's find out,” insisted Mack, one large hand reaching out to indicate where the disk Fitz had mentioned rested.

Coulson did as was requested, resisting the urge to shiver as the glove began to hum. After a minute, he carefully bent his fingers, a smile blooming over his face. “I can feel the temperature in here. Who turned the AC down?”

“Simmons,” replied Fitz with a shake of his head. “She's been complaining it's too cold in here for almost a week.”

“Is she sick?” asked Coulson worriedly, pausing with his hand on his shirt cuff. “How do I keep this thing in place?”

“There's a micromagnetic weave in the glove that'll keep it attached to the hand until you deactivate it,” explained Mack as he pushed back into a standing position. “It should hold up pretty well.”

Nodding, Coulson pulled his cuff back into place as he glanced at Fitz. The engineer paused for a moment, almost like he was debating if he wanted to answer the previous question. Or he was working out what he wanted to say; that happened too.

Finally, Fitz looked back up at Coulson and shrugged. “I don't think so. She seems herself besides complaining about the temperature.”

“She might just be cold,” pointed out Mack with a shrug. “It is that time of year.”

“Maybe,” agreed Coulson, glancing around the lab. “Is she in medical?”

“Supervising Bobbi's pulmonary therapy,” confirmed Mack, furrowing his brow. “If you gotta speak to her, it'd probably be better to wait unless it's urgent.”

“No, not at all,” assured Coulson mildly, flexing his cybernetic hand a little. “I just wanted to see how she was doing. I'll come back later though, when she isn't taking care of Bobbi.”

“Sounds like a plan boss,” agreed Mack, waving slightly as he turned back into the shop. “Now if you'll excuse me, I've got some camouflage circuits that are calling my name.”

“Camouflage circuits?” asked Coulson, glancing at Fitz.

The scientist just shrugged and turned back to his controls. “Mack thinks he can build an invisible car. He wants to try it on Lola.”

“Not happening,” stated Coulson firmly, shaking his head.

“That's what I said,” remarked Fitz, his attention drifting fully back to whatever project he was working on.

Shaking his head, Coulson turned towards the exit. “Have Simmons give me a heads up when she's done with Bobbi. Also, Hunter should swing by soon. He needs the combined expertise of you and Simmons.”

“Yes sir,” agreed Fitz, his eyes never leaving his project. Coulson momentarily contemplated sticking a note repeating everything he'd just said to Fitz's back for Simmons, but realized the biologist might walk right by it without realizing it was there. Hopefully, Fitz would tell her.

Exiting the lab, Coulson headed back to his office to review the information on the thefts. He wasn't exactly shoddy with science himself; maybe he could see something that would help them figure out why someone would go through the trouble of stealing such customized machinery.

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Abandoned. It was the only term that could adequately describe the street as Daisy, Lincoln, and Hunter pulled onto it. The tenant building they were looking for sat halfway down the block, sandwiched between two other buildings, neither of which looked particularly stable. Their target was a rundown structure in the equally rundown area that looked just barely more stable than the buildings around it. There were no people on the street, the few cars looked to have been left to rust, and there was little sign that anyone had inhabited the area for a while.

Dirty red brick adorned the outside of the building and an attempt to make the place appear sophisticated had clearly been made- there was what had probably been a nice railing running along a set of steps leading to the front door. Unfortunately, the steps were worn and cracked now, exposed too long to the elements and likely beyond hope of repair. Most of the windows looked to be broken in as well, though if that was because of time or vandalism, it was impossible to say. The front doors were still up and standing though, so at least some part of the structure had to be relatively solid.

“You sure this is the right place, Flower?” asked Hunter wearily, eyeing the building like it had personally offended him as he climbed from the SUV.

“Positive,” confirmed Daisy as she slid out of the driver's seat. “It was the same coordinates in every video.”

“Maybe they're going to drop a building on us,” snarked Hunter as he checked his weapon before climbing out as well along with Lincoln. “So, what's the arms procedure for dealing with a hacker?”

“We keep our weapons holstered unless we see a reason to draw them,” stated Daisy, glancing at Lincoln with a faint nod. “And if something does happen, Lincoln covers us until we get our weapons out.”

“And we can't just walk in with them drawn because....” prompted Hunter, waving his hand around a little in a 'go on' gesture.

Daisy rolled her eyes and started for the front door. “Because it's a hacker. Computers are their weapons, not guns.”

There was an unspoken 'idiot' in there, which everyone ignored as Daisy tried the door into the building. Pressing against it, she noted it shook slightly, but the handle didn't budge when she tried turning it. Apparently, the open invitation to find the hacker hadn't extended to leaving the door open. Hunter glanced up the face of the building as Daisy fiddled with the door, but there was no sign of an open window or anything they could use to get in. In all honesty, the place looked utterly abandoned.

“Maybe there's another door around the side,” suggested Lincoln, voicing an answer to everyone's unspoken question. They were going to get into that building- it was just a question of how.

Glancing back at the electricity welding inhuman, Daisy shrugged a little and vaulted over the railing. It shook dangerously as she did, nearly sending her to her face when she landed. Lincoln and Hunter both gave her chastising glances which she ignored in favor of exploring the side of the building. “It's worth a shot.”

Daisy led the way as she headed around the edge of the building, looking for any sign someone had slipped inside in a less-than-legal way. She'd know it if she saw it too- she'd done the same thing more than once when she'd been in her van. Buildings like this were excellent cover. Particularly if you could get a generator and some equipment inside and either leech electricity off any surrounding buildings or find a way to reconnect the power yourself. One person using power in an otherwise abandoned building wasn't going to pull enough to exactly raise red flags.

“I don't see another door,” stated Hunter, his footsteps heavy behind Daisy. “Maybe they posted the videos and ran.”

“The videos were posted weeks apart,” dismissed Daisy as a loose window board caught her eye. Inside, she could see a faint, digital glow. Someone was inside. “And if they were backdated, there would be evidence of that.”

“So you think they were all posted from this building and someone was living here for weeks posting the videos?” asked Lincoln, moving around Hunter to peer further down the hall.

Daisy knelt down beside the loose board, careful to stay out of sight and drop her voice. “No, I think someone is still living here. I can see a computer on inside.”

“Really?” questioned Lincoln in clear disbelief as he tried to kneel in front of the gap between the board's top edge and the upper edge of the window. Daisy quickly pulled him down and out of sight.

Hunter pressed himself to the wall at that point, raising an eyebrow at Daisy. His own voice was several octaves lower when he spoke. “See anyone?”

“Just the glow of a computer screen,” stated Daisy with a sigh, pulling Lincoln up and flattening herself to the wall. “There has to be a way in.”

“I bet whoever this is reinforced the front doors,” surmised Hunter, glancing down at the gap near the window. “Want to try a window?”

“I'd rather use a door,” insisted Daisy, her eyes tracing down the side of the building and finding the surface completely blank. “I don't want to startle whoever this is more than we already have by creeping around.”

“You think they noticed us?” asked Lincoln in surprise.

“I know they did,” corrected Daisy as they reached the back end of the building. “I saw the screen but didn't see anyone at the computer. We weren't exactly quiet earlier, either.”

“I thought the idea was stealth,” remarked Hunter as he kept close to the wall and drew his gun, “or did that get thrown out the window?”

“Hacker,” repeated Daisy through clenched teeth. “A Rising Tide hacker at that. We don't carry guns and we aren't exactly fighters.”

“We?” questioned Lincoln, glancing at Daisy curiously.

Daisy ignored the look, heading instead for a set of bare, crumbling cement stairs leading to a door. The handle depressed when she pushed on it this time, opening without resistance. There wasn't even a loud creak from the hinges. It was probably the main door the hacker used to come and go from the building- after all, the back way would be less visible.

“Hold up Flower,” muttered Hunter, pulling Daisy back a little by her shoulder. “This reeks of a trap.”

“You're just picking up on that?” asked Daisy with a raised eyebrow. “We didn't invite you along for the company.”

“Excuse me, I was dragged,” corrected Hunter, even as he dropped his hand back to his side. “I also recall that you promised Bobbi you would return me in one piece.”

“Which is precisely why you're waiting out here,” stated Daisy, motioning for Lincoln to follow her inside. “We'll call if we need backup.”

Letting out an unhappy sigh, Hunter holstered his gun and crossed his arms. “I'm not a lookout.”

“No,” agreed Daisy calmly. “You're backup and I want you out here in case our hacker friend makes a run for it.”

“So, you're just going to leave me out here alone to face down a potentially dangerous hacker,” summed up Hunter with a mock disbelieving look. Daisy just rolled her eyes and motioned for Lincoln to follow her inside. Hunter pouted slightly as he added: “Fine then, let's see if I invite you to come along next time I have an important mission.”

Ignoring Hunter's complaints, Daisy stepped into the crumbling building. Hunter huffed slightly but settled against the wall all the same, with one hand on his weapon and a bored expression painted across his face. “Wish I'd brought something to read now.”

The inside of the building was nowhere near as bad as it should have been by Daisy's calculations. The floorboards didn't appear wet or particularly rickety and the walls had sustained what looked to be physical damage only. The place could definitely use a fresh coat of paint, but otherwise appeared to be in better condition than 'about to fall down'.

“Should we split up?” asked Lincoln quietly, his eyes darting around the building like he expected something to either fall on him or jump him.

“Definitely not,” muttered Daisy, pausing beside a door that looked as if it led to a stairwell and giving it a little push. The door moved immediately, just as quietly as the outside door had. “Basement. Whoever this is probably holed themselves up down there.”

“Right,” muttered Lincoln, following Daisy as she descended towards the basement. “Are you sure we shouldn't have guns our or something?”

“Yes,” confirmed Daisy, her voice gaining an irritated edge. “Besides, I can repel bullets you know.”

“Doesn't mean I want to be shot at,” grumbled Lincoln, moving a little closer behind Daisy as they reached the basement landing.

The door leading in gave way just as easily as the others had before, revealing a well-lit room. The dim sound of a generator hummed inside, though it was muffled and far away. There were several monitors along one wall and the joint hum of the computers beneath them made the space practically vibrate.

“Definitely hacker domain,” muttered Daisy as she stepped inside, scanning the room for some sign of the person responsible.

She'd barely taken one step before a little mechanical robot came shooting out from somewhere, skidding slightly into the wall before coming to a stop in front of them. There were two wheels attached to its base with a third running at the back to help it keep balance. Little arms of what looked like brass glinted slightly in the light as the device struggled slightly for balance. And placed at the top was a metal ball with two lenses set in it, apparently acting as eyes. The device tilted its head to the side, looking up at them before darting away again behind some shelving along one wall.

“What the hell was that?” asked Lincoln as he leaned slightly out of the doorway. “A robot?”

“Apparently,” confirmed Daisy, blinking in the direction the device had disappeared before turning to head that way. She didn't make it across the room though before a woman stepped out from some hidden alcove.

Dark hair sat bundled on top of her head, pulled into a rough bun that looked like it was at risk of falling out any moment. Her skin was darker and her eyes a rich brown; it was pretty clear she was of Indian or Middle Eastern decent. Her jeans looked a little dirty but otherwise seemed solid and her loose orange t-shirt appeared to be in much the same condition. She didn't appear disturbed by their appearance, just calmly approached them as if she'd invited them in. Which, well, she kind of had.

“Here,” spoke up the woman, extending her hand towards them. A flash drive poked out of her fingers, plain white and generic to the point of being indistinguishable from any other drive in the world. “This is for you.”

“Uh, thanks,” muttered Daisy, taking the drive from her carefully. “Are you the one who's been putting up videos of powered people?”

“Only positive ones,” stated the woman firmly as her hand dropped back to her side. “The man who gave them to me said they were payment for passing this message on to you.”

“The man who gave them to you?” repeated Daisy wearily. “What man?”

“I don't know his name,” replied the hacker with a shrug. “He had the footage and promised it to me in exchange for giving you that drive. The footage was mine to do what I wanted with, so I released it online.”

“The problem is, people aren't necessarily comfortable with gifted people yet,” started Daisy as she prepared to go into what was obviously a rehearsed speech.

“Don't waste your speech on me,” cut in the woman, shaking her head a little. “I'm Rising Tide. We don't take orders from government tool bags.”

“Yeah, I know,” assured Daisy, pocketing the flash drive. “I used to be one of you guys.”

That seemed to surprise the woman. The way her eyes widened then narrowed in suspicion reflected her clear disbelief. “You're serious.”

“Very,” confirmed Daisy, holding out her hand. “I used to be known as Skyelight243.”

“Skyelight with an 'e'?” asked the woman, her eyes going wide when Daisy nodded. Almost automatically, the woman reached out to shake Daisy's hand. “He said you were a former, hacker but he failed to mention you practically helped found the Rising Tide.”

“I wouldn't say I helped found it,” dismissed Daisy, glancing wearily at Lincoln. “But I helped spread the word.”

“That's not much different in our world,” remarked the woman before she paused momentarily, then added: “I'm Ava.”

“I go by Daisy now,” stated Daisy, shaking Ava's hand. “What do you know about the gifted?”

“That I am one,” replied Ava with a shrug, releasing Daisy's hand and stepping back. “Like you, from what I'm told.”

“And him,” added Daisy, nodding to Lincoln. “He makes things spark, I make the ground shake, and I'm going to guess you animate machines.”

“Manipulate,” corrected Ava as she stepped back a little more. “I think it's only fair you know that I'm not interested in any offers you might make me. I've found employment on my own and it suits me just fine.”

“We aren't looking to recruit you to come work with us,” spoke up Lincoln, stepping around Daisy now that he'd apparently decided Ava really wasn't going to hurt anyone. “We have a sanctuary and wanted to offer you a place there.”

“I'm not looking to run, either,” stated Ava calmly, her hands folding in front of her. “I've found my place for the moment and I am happy there. I'm not ready to move on or away as of yet.”

“Alright,” agreed Daisy, pulling a card from her pocket and offering it to Ava. “That card has my number on it. Call me if you need help or change your mind. We'd be more than happy to have you among us when and if you decide you want to.”

“No coercion or threats?” asked Ava in clear surprise, raising an eyebrow even as she took the proffered card.

“It's not my way,” explained Daisy with a shrug. “Whatever you choose to do, it needs to be your choice. You know what choices you already have; this is just another one to add to the list.”

“Thank you,” thanked Ava after a moment, tucking the card safely into her front pocket. “I appreciate that.”

“Even if you decide not to join us, you're welcome to call anyway,” added Lincoln as Daisy stepped back towards the door. “We want to help people like you.”

“I'm not one of the ones who needs help,” pointed out Ava quietly. “I have all the help I need.”

“Well, if that changes, call,” insisted Lincoln gently. “We can take you wherever you want to go.”

Nodding, Ava waved at them before disappearing further back into the room. Daisy didn't say a word as she grabbed Lincoln's arm and pulled him back into the stairwell. They didn't speak as they headed to the main floor and then went out the back.

Hunter looked up as soon as they appeared, frowning when he realized there was no one with them. “What, no hacker?”

“We found the hacker,” corrected Daisy as she motioned for Hunter to head down the stairs, “but she didn't want to come along.”

“She told us what she knew,” added Lincoln, glancing wearily at Hunter. “Just so we're clear.”

“How can you be sure she told you everything?” challenged Hunter, though he followed them to the SUV all the same. “You can't guarantee that without interrogating her.”

“She's also a gifted Hunter,” stated Daisy with a sigh. “And breaking down relations with a gifted over a few videos that were released isn't worth our time. She'll tell us whatever she was hiding when she's ready to.”

“That's the complete opposite of what any spy would do, Daisy,” remarked Hunter with a scowl. “I don't like it.”

“Good thing you aren't calling the shots then,” countered Daisy as she pulled the SUV away from the sidewalk in the direction of the airport. “Otherwise we'd never get anywhere.”

----------------------------

“Alright Bobbi, all done for the day,” stated Simmons, carefully removing the mouthpiece of the spirometer.

Taking a slow, deep breath, Bobbi carefully swung her legs over the edge of the medical bed. She swayed slightly, closing her eyes and gripping the bed harder. “I know I should be used to the vertigo by now, but damn.”

“Pulmonary therapy does put some strain on your respiratory system,” pointed out Simmons as she set the mask aside. “Your lung function appears to be improving though. Your lungs will never be perfect again, but there's definitely signs of improvement.”

“If I can get in the field again, I'll be happy,” stated Bobbi, taking a deep breath before she carefully climbed from the table. Her hand wrapped around a lab coat resting along the back of the bed, pulling it on carefully as she remained against the bed.

“With proper therapy and treatment, it's entirely possible,” assured Simmons calmly, tucking the equipment away before turning back to Bobbi. “Wouldn't you rather stay in the lab though? It's so much nicer to have you here to help.”

Sighing, Bobbi straightened the coat and headed over to the workstation she'd claimed as her own. “I like the field too much to give it up.” Smiling, she added: “Besides, it's better if you have a biologist in the field. It means I can grab all the cool stuff and bring it back to you.”

“True,” agreed Simmons, smiling a bit. “And it means we have someone in the field who can feed us accurate information so we can assist.”

“There you go, double bonus,” stated Bobbi, smirking as she turned back to her work.

“I'm not sure that warrants someone of your talent being sent into the field,” countered Simmons with a sigh as she finished tucking away the spirometer and headed for her own workstation. “But, I suppose your points are valid.”

“You know, the same argument could be made for your own foray into field work,” pointed out Bobbi as she pulled out a set of slides and slipped one onto her microscope. “I mean, you're the genius who had two PhD's by the time they were seventeen.”

“You have a PhD as well, if you'll recall,” reminded Simmons, giving Bobbi a pointed look which the scientist ignored in favor of the slides. “One that you don't use, I might add.”

“I use it,” objected Bobbi, turning the knobs on her microscope to focus on the slides. “I just have other skills besides my knowledge of biology.”

The door opened before Simmons could attempt to counter Bobbi again, Fitz popping his head into the room. He offered Simmons a warm smile as he entered, crossing immediately to her work station and waving a bit awkwardly. Bobbi glanced up slightly when she heard him entered, but returned her focus to her microscope with a smirk a moment later.

“Hey Jem- er, Simmons,” greeted Fitz a little awkwardly as he glanced at Bobbi. “Agent Morse.”

“Bobbi,” reminded Bobbi, her eyes still glued to her microscope.

“Right, Bobbi,” muttered Fitz, clearing his throat a little as he turned his attention to Simmons. “Uh, Simmons, Coulson came by earlier and got his slip. The poly-3-hydroxybutyrate seemed like it worked well.”

“It's a naturally occurring bio-compatible plastic,” confirmed Simmons with a nod and nervous tuck of her hair. “The neurotransmitters built into the hand should link with the pressure and temperature sensors in the poly-3-hydroxybutyrate cover.”

“He said he could feel the room's temperature,” confirmed Fitz with a somewhat jerky nod. His eyes lit up then, his fingers snapping slightly. “Oh! And he wants to see you when you have a moment. Didn't say about what.”

“He probably wants to ask more questions about the stone,” stated Simmons with a put-upon sigh. “I'm not sure why he keeps asking. It isn't as if I know where it went or how it escaped. It's a stone. They aren't sentient nor mobile.”

“Well, normal ones aren't,” agreed Fitz, pointing to the slides in front of her. “Did you find anything interesting in the samples?”

“Nothing biological,” replied Simmons as she glanced at the box of slides containing samples taken from the stone. “It appears to be, well, a normal stone. There are no morphological differences from the standard materials found here on Earth.”

“That can't be right,” muttered Fitz, shaking his head a bit. “Are you sure they're the right slides?”

The look Simmons sent him was one of pure exasperation. “Of course I'm certain they're the right slides. Bobbi checked them as well.”

“True,” confirmed Bobbi distractedly, eyes locked on her microscope. “There was nothing abnormal on the slides. No signs of life or biological material and nothing that would indicate how the stone managed to vanish.”

“Maybe it was an inhuman then,” muttered Fitz, crossing his arms as his brow furrowed. “Skye-er, Daisy says she doesn't think there's another teleporter, but I wonder if she just doesn't know about them.”

“I doubt each person has a truly unique power,” agreed Simmons, tilting her head a little. “Perhaps that's how I ended up unconscious, too.”

“A teleporter jumps in,” started Fitz, tapping his fingers a little as the rational explanation began to form.

“...and he renders me unconscious from behind before stealing the stone,” finished Simmons, nodding a bit as she straightened from her workstation. “That must have been it.”

“You were complaining of a headache after,” reminded Fitz, his fingers drumming slightly against her workstation before one hand reached towards her. He paused mid-air, hand half raised towards her head as if intending to touch some imaginary injury.

Simmons reached up with her own hand, lacing their fingers together as she brought his hand back down to a normal level. “I'm fine, Fitz. It was just a minor headache. Not even a concussion.”

“Right,” muttered Fitz, glancing down at their joined hands. “Um, tonight. Dinner? I was thinking we could, um, go somewhere...out.”

“Tonight?” asked Simmons uneasily, glancing back at her workstation, then over at Bobbi. She dropped her voice a little, leaning closer to Fitz in an attempt not to be overheard. “I would love to Fitz, but I have a lot of work to do.”

“Oh,” stated Fitz, his shoulders drooping momentarily before he perked up a little. “Well, maybe I could get us food from somewhere and bring it back, like we used to at the academy. We could work that way but still get some time, er, together.”

A smile slipped across Simmons lips in response, her fingers tightening around his. “That sounds like a fantastic idea, Fitz. What were you thinking of getting?”

“Chinese?” suggested Fitz, furrowing his brow a bit. “Pizza doesn't seem...right.”

“It is easy though,” pointed out Simmons, her fingers lacing with his.

“It's so casual though...” objected Fitz, his eyes suddenly going wide. “I've got it!”

“Got what?” asked Simmons, clearly startled by Fitz's sudden outburst.

The engineer just shook his head though, releasing her hand with a smile. “You'll see, Jemma. Just don't bring anything dead into the lab between now and tonight.”

“I'll try to avoid it?” replied Simmons uncertainly.

Fitz nodded and glanced over to make sure Bobbi wasn't looking before leaning forward quickly and kissing Simmons. He released her rapidly, giving her no chance to react before he was turning and heading for the door. “I'll see you tonight, Jemma.”

“Goodbye Leo?” offered Simmons, though he was gone before she could finish getting the words out. Settling back against her workstation, she let out a long breath and shook her head a little.

“Well, he was excited,” noted Bobbi, finally raising her head from the microscope. She glanced towards the door once before looking back at Simmons curiously. “He always that excited about dinner?”

“Only when we get a chance to eat together,” replied Simmons, eyes still locked on the door. “Alone.”

“So, date night,” stated Bobbi with a smile, a somewhat distracted look crossing her eyes. “That stage is a great one.”

“That stage?” repeated Simmons curiously, glancing at the other biologist. “What do you mean?”

“The stage of dating where you always want to be around each other,” explained Bobbi with a shrug. “It can last a while if you're lucky.”

“Don't you always want to be around Lance?” asked Simmons as she straightened and turned back to her work. “He's always around.”

“He's guarding me,” corrected Bobbi with a slight huff. “Ever since the mess with that psychopathic ex-teammate of yours, he's been hovering like a mamma bear and I'm about out of my mind.”

“It's sweet though,” argued Simmons, replacing the slides on her microscope with new ones and glancing through the lenses. “It means he wants to keep you safe.”

“It's going to drive me crazy if he keeps it up,” insisted Bobbi, shaking her head a little. “I'm not some helpless creature he needs to protect.”

“No,” agreed Simmons, slipping the slide off and holding it out to Bobbi without looking. “But he loves you so he wants to protect you. It's really that simple.”

The other biologist took it, slipping it onto her own microscope and glancing down at the wriggling cells. “Doesn't mean he isn't going to drive me crazy in the process. What is this thing?”

“I'm not sure,” admitted Simmons, stepping over to Bobbi's work area. “I was hoping you might have some idea.”

“It looks like human cells,” stated Bobbi, adjusting the microscope a little. “But it doesn't look...right.”

“I know,” agreed Simmons, sighing slightly in frustration as she leaned against Bobbi's workstation. “It was collected at a recent attack against a group of Inhumans. The victims were gone by the time we arrived, but we found blood.”

“This doesn't look like inhuman blood,” remarked Bobbi, leaning away from the microscope with a frown. “What about a gifted?”

“A gifted with a genetic mutation?” asked Simmons, turning the idea over in her head. “It's possible I suppose. The sample didn't match anything in our system.”

“Well, let’s get it in the system,” suggested Bobbi, offering the sample back to Simmons. “Maybe it'll pop again. If this guy was an attacker, we could be looking at some kind of war between Inhumans and gifted.”

“He might have been the one who saved them, too,” pointed out Simmons as she tucked the slide back into its box and headed to the freezer. “Someone helped them escape.”

“Maybe,” agreed Bobbi, reaching out and snatching up the sample on the slide again. “Can I see the other inhuman and gifted samples we have? Maybe we can figure this out by comparing them.”

“I'll do it,” assured Simmons, fishing a vial from the freezer and heading to a prep area. “Just leave it on my desk. I have a few more samples to look through.”

Bobbi paused momentarily with the slide in hand before carefully sliding it back into the case. “You got it. Let me know if you want some help.”

“Thank you Bobbi,” thanked Simmons as she pulled down her goggles and prepared to begin extracting DNA from the collected blood. “I'll keep that in mind.”

Nodding, Bobbi turned back to her work, allowing the lab to fall into silence.

---------------------------

“So what do you think is on that disk?” asked Hunter as they exited the freeway heading to O'Hare's private air fields. SHIELD had a hanger they maintained there, keeping it under Keoning's name to avoid detection. “A taunt maybe? Or a warning?”

“She said it wasn't from her,” stated Daisy as she paused at the gate into the airfield, fishing out a remote from the side pocket. She pressed the button and, five seconds later, the gates began to open.

“What do you mean?” prompted Hunter, raising an eyebrow at Daisy drove onto the airfield. “Why would she give it to you?”

“Apparently she'd been expecting us to find her,” stated Lincoln, glancing at Daisy in concern. “Someone left a message for Daisy.”

“Now that's just weird,” remarked Hunter as he settled back in the backseat. “How did the person who dropped off the message know you'd come get it? It could have been any of us.”

“She said the guy who left the message knew Daisy was a former hacker,” added Lincoln with a shrug, shifting around to glance at Hunter. “I guess he figured she would be able to track the video source.”

“He?” repeated Hunter, cocking an eyebrow. “Flower, do you have a suitor we need to be worried about?”

Daisy didn't respond; she just kept driving until she reached hanger 12. SHIELD was renting the whole hanger, which meant the SUV would get stashed inside for future use with the aircraft already secured inside. It really was a very convenient setup.

“Oi, Skye, you with us?” asked Hunter, poking Daisy in the back of the head slightly as she put the car in park.

Daisy felt her eye twitch, her head snapping around so she could glare at the ex-merc. “It's Daisy.”

“Good to know you haven't gone deaf in the last half hour,” remarked Hunter dryly, folding his arms across his chest. “Care to share your thoughts?”

“I think someone who knows I was a hacker who worked for the Rising Tide a long time ago left me a message with another Rising Tide member knowing they'd draw me out,” stated Daisy with a sigh, pushing open her car door. “Simple as that.”

“Alright,” agreed Hunter slowly, nodding along like he thought Daisy was dense. “But why her? And what's the message?”

“I don't know,” growled Daisy, shooting a glare at Hunter as she slammed the door shut. “I don't have a computer, Hunter. I can't figure it out until I do, got it?”

“Got it!” confirmed Hunter, his hands coming up for half a second before he grabbed for the car as the ground started to shake slightly.

It was enough to catch Daisy's attention, too. She took a deep breath, her shoulders forcefully falling as the shaking subsided. As the final tremors faded, she slammed the door of the car shut and headed for the quinjet parked in the hanger without further comment. Lincoln shot Hunter a pissed off look as he followed her, prompting the merc to hold up his hands in mock surrender. He let out a muttered 'touchy, touchy' as he followed the two Inhumans unhappily.

Daisy half threw open the quinjet's cockpit door, settling into the pilot’s seat without a word and starting the pre-flight check. That she was ticked off wasn't a question- it was pretty obvious she hadn't appreciated Hunter's comments. The look Lincoln shot Hunter said he knew as much.

Silently, he left the former merc and cautiously entered the cockpit. Her fingers flicked angrily against the various knobs and switches, lights flashing to life across the console with every motion. There was tension in her shoulders, speaking as her to frustration.

“Daisy?” asked Lincoln cautiously, his hand landing on the shoulder of her chair. “Everything okay?”

“Fine,” growled Daisy, flicking a switch so hard it looked like she might break it. “Just great.”

Nodding slowly, Lincoln slid into the seat across from Daisy's. He glanced back at the door to the cockpit, catching sight of Hunter as he leaned on the wall at the top of the drop ramp. “Right.” Glancing at her again, he leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his legs just above his knees. “Talk to me, Daisy. I can help.”

Daisy's head snapped around rapidly enough that it looked like she should have given herself whiplash. The glare she sent his way said that definitely wasn't the right thing to say. “There's nothing I want to talk to you about.”

“Maybe if you tell me what's up, I could help,” reasoned Lincoln, his fingers lacing together in front of him. “You brought me out here Daisy, so tell me what's up.”

“I don't know if you've forgotten, Lincoln, but when we first met I was naked and laying on a table unable to move,” growled Daisy, standing angrily so she could glare down at him. “That doesn't exactly make me trust you. You're here because the other Inhumans voted for you to come with me. You're here because you understand this Inhuman stuff better than me.”

“We literally live, alone, in a warehouse,” reminded Lincoln, his brow furrowing. “You've talked to me before. All the time, in fact. What's going on that has you clamming up now?”

“The fact that I don't trust you enough to talk about this,” stated Daisy as she half stormed from the cockpit and headed for the ramp down. Hunter raised an eyebrow as she stormed out, but he didn't say a word. Instead, he glanced up at Lincoln, who stood at the door to the cockpit and watched her storm out.

Outside, Daisy momentarily stood in the shadow of the quinjet, her eyes closed as she forced herself to stay calm. Her fingers tapped against one of the jet's wheels, the other hand running through her hair. Quietly, under her breath, she began muttering to herself. “Alright, breathe. If it's a message from Miles, you can just toss it. You don't know that it is though, there is a chance someone else could have left you a message. Even if it was a Rising Tide hacker who gave it to you and you know Miles is still active because you fried his computers five times in the last year when he tried to hack the SHIELD server. That doesn't mean its him.”

Taking a deep breath, Daisy prepared to board the quinjet again.

Just as suddenly, she was on the floor, dust settling around her and a sharp ringing in her ears. But even without being able to hear them, she knew the vibration of boots on the ground. Vibrations were her thing now and she'd quickly learned the ones she needed to in order to survive.

Rolling rapidly over, Daisy spotted the heavily armed group of men as they swarmed through the now massive hole in the side of the hanger. Black covered them from head to toe, making it impossible to tell who they worked for or where they came from. She caught sight of a splash of dark red on one man's arm, but she didn't have time to look close. A shout went up, barely audible to her because of her ears. The same man pointed at her where she lay on the ground.

“Crap,” muttered Daisy half a second before gunfire cut across the hanger. Without thought, she threw up her arm and released a wave of power, watching the bullets recoil back towards their shooters amid a wave of displaced air. She didn't wait to see if anyone got hit. In the ensuing confusion she was up on her feet and running for the ramp into the quinjet.

Hunter appeared on the ramp just as she reached it, Glock raised. He didn't hesitate to fire over her head as she dove for the ramp and scrambled up into the jet. Lincoln quickly dodged out of her way as she passed, hitting the button to raise the ramp as soon as she cleared it.

Gunfire clattered against the shell as she dove for the pilot's seat, hands flying over the controls and dragging the engines online. A hum filled the room momentarily before the back ramp snapped shut, Hunter immediately dodging up from the ramp and jumping into the copilot's seat.

“Who the bloody hell is shooting at us now?” asked the former merc, irritation evident in his voice as he began hitting buttons to bring the radio online.

“Guys in uninspired black body armor,” snapped back Daisy as the quinjet began to rise. “What were you expecting?”

“Not to get shot at!” exclaimed Hunter, pulling on a radio headset. The jet shook suddenly, the sound of bullets hitting the shell of the vehicle growing louder. “Can you get us up?”

Daisy cursed, turning around in her seat slightly. “Lincoln, strap in. This is going to be rough.”

“I'm taking that as a yes,” remarked Hunter as the jet shook again and began to lift from the ground. “How exactly do you expect to get out, anyway?”

“Same way they got in,” replied Daisy as she spun the jet around to face the opening their guests had blown into the wall. Her fingers hit a few more buttons before she glanced at Hunter. “You want to shoot the missals?”

“Sure,” agreed Hunter, activating the targeting computer in front of him as the jet shook. “How often do I really get to blow anything up?”

“On this level?” asked Daisy with a faint smirk. “Last week.”

“That hardly counts,” remarked Hunter as he lined up the shot roughly and pressed the button. Six missals dropped from the wings, shooting across the short distance to blow the wall, and their attackers, out of the way. “Good enough?”

“Hopefully,” muttered Daisy before tilting the jet forward and accelerating towards the hole. The jet brushed the top of the opening as it passed through, scraping across the upper edge of the frame. The sound was horrible, echoing in the small space that was the interior of the jet, but Daisy didn't slow the aircraft down. Instead, she immediately pulled the craft into a climb, heading out of range of gunfire.

“So how many new windows do you think the jet has?” asked Hunter curiously as he relaxed into his seat, eyes drifting to Daisy. “Five? Ten?”

“Probably about that,” agreed Daisy as she leveled the plane out at a lower altitude. “We're going to stay at this altitude. Without knowing the damage, if there's any, I don't really want to take us up higher.”

“Rational thought,” agreed Hunter, turning towards the back. “You alright Sparky?”

Lincoln looked up, wide-eyed and a little shake up. “Uh, yeah. I'm good.”

Daisy's lips tilted up slightly, though it didn't last. Less than a second later, she was stone faced again and checking the controls for signs of trouble. “We'd better radio Mack and let him know the quinjet probably needs repairs.”

“You really think bullets managed to crack the hull?” asked Hunter in surprise, raising an eyebrow at Daisy. “I was joking about that.”

“I'm not sure who those guys were or what kind of ammo they were using,” countered Daisy, tapping a console monitor and examining the data it displayed. “I was too busy taking cover to actually check.”

“Why do you think they attacked us?” asked Lincoln from behind them, appearing in the door to the cockpit. He was kind of pale, but didn't seem worse for wear otherwise.

“No clue,” stated Daisy with a sigh, rubbing her eyes slightly before inputting their return coordinates. “They looked like mercs and at least one had a band of red on their arm.” Sighing unhappily, she focused her gaze forward on the sky ahead. “I didn't get a good look at it though.”

“Black body armor with red arm bands?” asked Hunter, raising an eyebrow. “You aren't thinking Hydra, are you?”

“You know anyone else with that uniform?” countered Daisy with a sigh. “Cut off one head and two more grow in its place. The Avengers took out most of Hydra, but they've survived before.”

“Worse blows, too,” added Lincoln, leaning forward. “I did a little research on them after Jiaying told us what happened to her. If they didn't fall after World War II, I'm not sure what could take them down.”

“They're a bunch of terrorists utilizing urban guerilla tactics,” reminded Hunter with a scowl. “There will always be remnants unless they get absorbed by another terrorist group. It's why the world needs SHIELD.”

Lincoln snorted slightly but said nothing to that, just turned and headed back into the quinjet's cargo area. Daisy pressed her lips together a little tighter and kept silent as well, focusing on where she was going and the panels on the jet. Hunter made a shocking choking sound, glancing between Daisy and the space where Lincoln had just been.

“What, you don't agree?” asked Hunter in complete surprise, looking straight at Daisy. “I know you do, or at least you used to.”

“I agree there's bad people out there and SHIELD helps keep them in check,” stated Daisy with a sigh, shaking her head a little. “After what happened with the Inhumans though, I'm not sure it's as simple as SHIELD tries to make it.”

“And the men shooting at us just now?” pushed Hunter, his temper audible in his voice. “Do you think they're more complicated?”

“I don't know who it was or why they were shooting at us,” countered Daisy, her voice kept forcibly even. The clenching of her teeth and fingers belied her calm though. “So the guys we just left in the warehouse? They're probably bad, but we don't know for sure and I'm not big on the whole 'shoot first, ask questions later' thing.”

“Coulson asks more questions than I'd like before he starts shooting,” pointed out Hunter with a scowl, settling back in the co-pilot's chair. “Besides, they shot first.”

“And again, I'm about 95% sure those guys are probably bad,” agreed Daisy with a sigh, “but I'm not saying yes or no until we know.”

“Shooting first is usually a bad sign,” reminded Hunter as he removed the headset and carefully hung the earphones from the hook beside his seat. Headset safely settled into place, he leaned back a little to stretch out. “Think you can make it without me? I'd like to snag a nap.”

“Go ahead Sleeping Beauty,” stated Daisy in her best deadpan voice. There was a touch of a smile in the corners of her lips. “I'll wake you up before we land.”

“I'm going to tell Bobbi you said that,” remarked Hunter with a yawn, his eyes shutting as he settled further into the seat. “She'll avenge my honor.”

“Bobbi will fall over laughing,” corrected Daisy, flipping the plane into autopilot. “Take your nap. I can handle this.”

Hunter muttered something in response, but he was already nodding off when he started. In seconds, he was asleep. Daisy shook her head slightly, rubbing her eyes and pulling the flash drive from her pocket.   It was still intact and looked undamaged. Idly, she twisted the plastic between her fingers, examining it from all sides before slipping it back into her pocket and taking back the jet's controls.

-----------------------------------------

“What the hell did you do to my baby?” demanded Mack, the engineer half storming up to the plane as Daisy, Hunter, and Lincoln descended the ramp.

Coulson approached behind him, cutting through the otherwise empty hanger. The Director's eyes immediately darted to the underside of the jet, where a multitude of dents and a few holes now littered the metal skin. “What happened?”

“We got jumped at the hanger,” stated Daisy, dodging out of the way as Mack began running his hands over the metal skin of the jet. “I'm gonna go out on a limb and assume we lost any equipment in there as well.”

“Any idea who attacked?” pressed Coulson, dropping his eyes from Mack and the plane to Daisy.

She shrugged in response, eyes sweeping over the damage momentarily before refocusing on the director. “No clue. They weren't wearing uniforms. Honestly, they all looked like hired mercs except one guy. He had some kind of red patch on his arm.”

“In the skin or on fabric?” asked Coulson, his eyes turning weary.

“On the fabric,” stated Daisy quietly. “I wasn't able to get a good look though, so I can't say for sure who it might be.”

“But you think it was Hydra,” remarked Coulson with a slow nod, his gaze falling to the other two passengers. “Was anyone hurt?”

“Lincoln was inside the plane when the gunfire started,” assured Daisy, eyes moving to the plane. “Hunter was, too. He popped up when the firefight started.”

“What about you?” pressed Coulson, a hand landing on her shoulder softly. “Are you alright?”

“Banged up,” dismissed Daisy, shrugging slightly. “I got blown to the ground when they entered the hanger but I'll be alright.”

Nodding slowly, Coulson squeezed her shoulder slightly before releasing it. “I'd like you to let Simmons look you over, to be safe.”

“I'm fine AC,” repeated Daisy, stepping back with a frustrated sigh and heading for the door out of the hanger. “I've got some work to do.”

Coulson looked ready to object but snapped his jaw shut instead, turning to Hunter with a raised eyebrow. “I'm going to assume it didn't go well.”

“No clue,” replied Hunter with a shrug, shoving his hands in his pockets. “She went in with Lincoln and came out with some flash drive. She doesn't know what's on it, or at least that's what she claims.”

“But no Inhuman?” pressed Coulson, his jaw shifting in an unhappy set.

“She said she'd found her place,” broke in Lincoln, his eyes narrowing at the two men. Both turned to look at the inhuman man, giving him equally expectant looks. Lincoln scowled slightly, muttering a remark about SHIELD and impatience before raising his voice to an audible level. “We offered in Inhuman woman a chance to come with us, but she said she was happy with the Rising Tide.”

“The Rising Tide?” repeated Coulson, his shoulders tensing. “Was the flash drive a message from Miles?”

“No clue,” stated Lincoln, turning away from them and heading for the doors leading out of the base. “Let Daisy know I'm heading back to our place.”

“I'll pass the message along,” assured Coulson, brow furrowing slightly as Lincoln walked away.

“So who's this Miles?” questioned Hunter as he shoved his hands in his pockets, catching Coulson's attention again. “Someone we need to worry about?”

“Rising Tide hacker and leader,” explained Coulson, his eyes narrowing slightly in displeasure, “and Sky-Daisy’s former boyfriend. The one who convinced her to spy on us from the inside.”

“Wait, Flower was a traitor?” asked Hunter in surprise, his head snapping towards the doors Daisy had left through no long ago. “Really?”

“She was,” confirmed Coulson with a slightly frustrated sigh. “We left Miles in China though. I thought that was the last we'd have to deal with him.”

“You really think it's him then,” stated Hunter, glancing back at Coulson, “not someone else?”

“She never mentioned anyone else,” confirmed Coulson as he headed towards the door leading into the rest of the Playground. “I hope it isn't him. Miles is a complicated subject for Daisy and she's still adjusting to her powers and status as an Inhuman. The last thing we need is Miles messing with her head.”

“What are you going to do if it is this Miles fellow?” asked Hunter, following Coulson from the hanger.

“I don't know,” admitted Coulson, shaking his head a little. “I'll worry about that after we've confirmed its Miles sending her a message. For now, you have some technology to track.”

“Right, the thefts,” muttered Hunter as they came to a stop at a fork in the hallway. “I'll need a quinjet if you don't mind. Some of these people run so far off the grid, they can't be reached by phone. Or e-mail.”

“Do what you need to,” confirmed Coulson, pausing before adding: “Take Agent Morse with you when you leave. She might be able to help with some of the technical aspects.”

“I don't want Bobbi off base right now,” objected Hunter immediately, crossing his arms. “Her lungs are still damaged from being shot.”

“I'm not asking you to take her running,” clarified Coulson, shooting the former merc a look. “I'm asking you to take her along to fly the jet and offer you some insight. We still don't know why these labs where hit or what the equipment taken does. If you're going to try to track this information, you need to have someone along who can help you figure out what it does.”

“Right,” muttered Hunter, lips compressing. “I'll think about it.”

Sighing, Coulson lay a hand on the man's shoulder. “You have to stop treating her like she's made of glass. It's driving her nuts.”

“Not expecting someone who can't even run a mile to go into the field isn't treating her like she's made of glass,” objected Hunter with a scowl. “I know Bobbi. She's stubborn and she'll push herself too hard and too fast if someone doesn't make her stay down.”

“Sort of like you,” remarked Coulson with a pointed look. “Let Bobbi come out with you. She doesn't have to come along to meet your contacts, but some time off base will do her some good.”

“I still don't like it,” repeated Hunter, though the resigned look on his face said he'd be doing as he was told regardless of his personal reservations.

“Noted,” assured Coulson before he turned away and headed towards the labs. “Don't bug Daisy until she gets this flash drive sorted out.”

Hunter humphed slightly. “I wasn't planning on going within ten meters of the woman right now.” Shaking his head a little as he turned to head down the other hall, he added under his breath: “with her mood, she might bring the building down on our heads.”

-------------------------------------------

“Leo, are you done yet?” asked Simmons in irritation, huffing out a sigh. She sat perched on a stool, a blindfold over her eyes. Her arms were crossed, lab coat resting on the table beside her. “I was rather hoping to get some work done at some point tonight.”

“Patience Jem,” assured Fitz as he placed two more plastic containers among the ones already spread across the table. A cloth covered what was normally a lab table, several roses resting in a vase in the middle of it all. “I'm almost done.”

“I thought the point of you bringing food into the lab was so we could work without disruption,” pointed out Simmons, her voice clearly conveying her growing irritation.

Setting plates on the cloth-covered table, Fitz shot Simmons a slightly exasperated, albeit amused, look before he began to pull lids off the various containers. A slew of different Italian dishes were revealed as he went- everything from pasta to steamed vegetables to bread and olive oil flavored with rosemary. Removing the last lid, he walked around to where Jemma was sitting and undid the blindfold. “Alright, ready.”

Simmons blinked to allow her eyes to adjust before glancing down at the spread. Her eyes widened in surprise before darting up at Fitz. “Leo, this is a lot of food. And effort.”

“I wanted us to have a nice evening,” stated Fitz simply, shrugging a bit as he picked up a napkin and lay it in Simmons' lap. “I hope you don't mind. I know how you feel about things being moved around in the lab, but-”

Simmons stopped him then with a hand against his chest, kissing him quickly. He didn't even get a chance to respond before she released him with a smile. “Thank you, Leo. This is incredibly sweet.”

“It's my pleasure, Jem,” assured Fitz, offering her a serving spoon before taking his seat across from her. “You've been working so hard, it only seems fair that you get a bit of a break.”

“Thank you Fitz,” repeated Jemma, giving him a grateful look before she began to spoon some food on her plate. “I'm sorry we couldn't have gone out like you wanted.”

“We can go out when things calm down a little,” reminded Fitz gently, grabbing another spoon and serving himself some food. “Besides, it sounded like you had a pretty important project to work on. Want to share?”

Simmons paused with a container of salad in her hands, glancing at him uncertainly for a moment before setting both the container back on the table and folding her hands in her lap. “I was going to ask you for some help, but I didn't want to inconvenience your work.”

“It’s no inconvenience Jem,” assured Fitz, his hand reaching across the table to cover hers. “Whatever you need help with, I’m happy to join you.”

“Oh Fitz,” murmured Simmons, her eyes softening as she turned her hand over to intertwine their fingers. “Well, I’ve been playing with ideas to help Daisy locate other Inhumans and I think I’ve found a way to identify them based on a biometric energy signature, but I have no clue how to apply it on the technological scale.”

“Like a heat signature?” questioned Fitz, his brow furrowing in thought as his brain began to analyze what she’d said.

“Yes, just like a heat signature, only a different frequency,” confirmed Simmons, nodding excitedly. “I wanted to ask you if there was a way we could build a device that would let Daisy locate these and track the signatures.”

“I’d have to look at your data on the subject, but there should be a way,” agreed Fitz with a slow nod, a smile forming on his face. “Daisy will be so excited when we tell her about this-”

“No!” exclaimed Simmons, extracting her hand from Fitz’s suddenly as she began waving them around slightly in excitement. “I don’t want to tell her until we have a working prototype! There’s no use in getting her hopes up when she has so many other things to worry about until we’re sure we can do it!”

Fitz gave Simmons an uncertain look but nodded slowly all the same. “Yes, but couldn’t she help us test it?”

“When we reach the testing stage, then yes,” confirmed Simmons, settling down some with his agreement to keep the project a secret. “I just don’t want to get her hopes up.”

The narrow-eyed look Fitz shot her said he wasn’t completely sure he believed her. “Are you sure you aren’t worried she’ll disapprove?”

Simmons shook her head firmly, giving him a confident look. “No. I think the idea might seem a little scary at first, but I’m positive she’ll see the benefit if we have something to show her. It isn’t as if we’ll be using the device. All of this will be in her hands and hers alone.”

“Alright,” agreed Fitz, nodding slowly as he relaxed some. He leaned forward a bit, arms bracing on the table on either side of his plate. “I think you’re right. Anything we can do to help Daisy right now, we should do.”

“Precisely!” confirmed Simmons, offering him a bright smile as she stabbed some lettuce onto her fork. “So, I was thinking-”

The sound of the lab door swinging open halted whatever Simmons was going to say, drawing the attention of both scientists to their new guest. Coulson stepped into the room, glancing around the empty lab and the food spread between the two with a raised eyebrow before shrugging and approaching. Setting a stack of papers on the nearest, clear space, he turned to them apologetically.

“Sorry to interrupt, but I need you both to take a look at something as soon as possible,” greeted Coulson, nodding towards the stack of papers as he shoved his hands into his pockets. “Preferably tonight, if you have the time.”

“Sir?” questioned Simmons, turning towards the director curiously. “What’s wrong?”

“Some equipment has recently been stolen from several government facilities,” explained Coulson, rocking a little uncomfortably on his feet. “Hunter is trying to figure out where the equipment went, but I’m more interested in why it was stolen.”

“So how can we help?” asked Fitz, straightening up and glancing towards the stack of papers.

“It’s specialized lab equipment,” explained Coulson with a slightly frustrated sigh. “I want to know what whoever took it could be using it for and if it’s a threat we need to be worried about.”

“So you want to know what the equipment could be used for, correct?” clarified Simmons, who also glanced over at the stack of papers.

“Yes,” confirmed Coulson with a nod. “Keep me in the loop, but Hunter is the one you need to report to. He’s going to be conducting the investigation."

“So we report to Hunter?” asked Fitz as Simmons stood and headed for the papers.

Coulson nodded, rocking on his heels slightly. “Hunter is the primary, though I do want to be kept up-to-date. Ross is pretty angry over these robberies.”

“Right,” murmured Simmons as she flipped through the pages Coulson had set down earlier. Already, she was clearly engaged in whatever was in the file.

“We’ll take a look,” agreed Fitz, sighing slightly in clear frustration.

“Thank you,” thanked Coulson, glancing guiltily at the dinner spread out over the table. “Enjoy your evening.”

With that, he turned and left the room, clearly feeling bad for ruining the moment. It just clearly wasn’t enough to make him take back his file. Not that Simmons looked inclined to give it up regardless.

Turning back to Simmons, Fitz cleared his throat a little. “Bring the file over, Jem. We can look at it while we eat.”

“Hm?” asked Simmons, glancing up from the folder momentarily. Her eyes widened in realization a moment later and she hurriedly snapped the folder shut. “Right, dinner. I’m sorry Fitz, I promise I’m yours again.” Setting the folder aside, albeit reluctantly, Simmons returned to the table and again picked up her fork. “So, what have you been working on?”

-------------------------------------------

Sighing, Daisy leaned back in her chair and stared at the ceiling. On her monitor, the flash drive folder and lines of code were displayed. Several other programs were up and running as well, flashing information intermittently across the screen.

“Any lucky?” asked Coulson, appearing behind her almost like a ghost.

She jumped slightly, nearly tipping over her coffee as she did. As it was, the cup shook slightly, expelling a few drops but otherwise not tipping. Biting back a curse, Daisy glanced back at Coulson and offered him her best shrug. “Almost done. She used an old Rising Tide key on the video. It’s pretty heavy encryption.”

“How much longer until you have it done?” pressed Coulson, clearly anxious about whatever was on the drive.

“A few minutes?” suggested Daisy, her eyebrow rising in clear confusion. “Not much longer. Why are you so anxious about this?”

Sighing, Coulson grabbed a spare chair and pulled it up to rest alongside Daisy’s seat. “Because I’m concerned about who could be sending you a message from the Rising Tide.”

Daisy’s lips twisted slightly to the side in irritation, though she released a sigh to match Coulson’s and leaned back in her seat. “Honestly? I’m kinda worried, too. I’m half expecting Miles’ face to pop up on the screen any second.”

“He should still be stuck in China,” muttered Coulson, eyes narrowing.

“Doesn’t mean he can’t send a message,” pointed out Daisy as she clicked a few buttons on her screen, checking the status of the decode. “He’s bound to have figured out how to get that bracelet off by now. I mean, I could have gotten it off after the first day.”

Coulson shot her a raised eyebrow, curious. “So why didn’t you?”

“Because I was trying to regain your trust and it would have been counter intuitive,” stated Daisy simply as the computer beeped. Immediately, her shoulders stiffened. “It’s done.”

Nodding, Coulson lay a hand on her shoulder in silent support. “Play it.”

With a deep breath, she hit play on the video. On the screen, an image of a dark, non-descript room flashed into view. But it wasn’t Miles in the video. Ward stood in the room, arms crossed over his chest. The menacing look that matched his stance was gone though and in its place was a look of utter concern.

“Skye, I know I’m the last person you want to hear from, but I felt you deserved this warning,” began Ward, his face remaining concerned. “There’s people targeting Inhumans and gifted alike. Right now, an anti-Inhuman and anti-Gifted campaign. I’m here to warn you to keep your head down and get away from S.H.I.E.L.D. I know you trust them, but I don’t and they’re about to get pulled into the crossfire. Do yourself a favor and get out while you can, before they murder you, too.” The video ended there, leaving the former S.H.I.E.L.D. specialist to watch them from his place frozen on the screen.

Livid didn’t describe Coulson’s face. He looked ready to murder someone. Daisy’s face was pale, her eyes somewhat wide. Her expression was caught between shock and anger, some combination that conveyed more confusion than either of the other emotions.

“That traitor,” growled Coulson, his replacement arm gripping the desk roughly as he stood. The wood splintered under his prosthetic hand, causing Daisy to wince. “Who the hell does he think he is?”

“Apparently he thinks he’s someone who can intimidate me,” muttered Daisy, playing the video again. Her eyes carefully scanned the images, though it stopped halfway through abruptly when Coulson suddenly grabbed the mouse and closed the video. “Wha-”

He pulled the drive from the computer a second later, shoving it in his pocket forcefully. Then, he turned for the door. “Forget his message, Skye. Focus on your Inhumans. Ward is a S.H.I.E.L.D. matter.” Then he was out the door, leaving Daisy staring after him with only a muttered ‘It’s Daisy’ as a response.

%MCEPASTEBIN%

Chapter Text

“S.H.I.E.L.D.’s response to a threat reads: control them or lock them away.” On the monitor, an image of Gill’s body crashing to the ground from a bullet wound flashed across the screen.

In the command center, Coulson, May, Hunter, and Daisy stared at the image in varying degrees of horror and disgust. Daisy cringed, visibly recoiling. Coulson cursed, his fists tightening to the point where his knuckles whitened.

From around them, the same haunting voice that appeared in every pro-gifted video echoed from the speakers. “They destroy those they can’t use. Don’t trust them.” More images of various Gifted individuals being taken down by S.H.I.E.L.D. agents flashed across the screen. Most were old and from well before Hydra sprang from the shadows. “Don’t trust any Agent of S.H.I.E.L.D. They will destroy you if they find you, unless you agree to work for them. Beware the rising eagle.” The video cut out then, the woman’s voice dying away as the monitor cut to a blank, black screen.

Silence reigned for a moment as everyone present tried to absorb what they’d just seen with limited success. Then the video image of Agent Weaver appeared in place of the video, her brow drawn and her lips compressed in an unhappy frown. That the other council member was unhappy about the clear anti-S.H.I.E.L.D. propaganda was evident.

“I want to know how this woman got that video footage,” stated Weaver, her voice tense. “We need to control this propaganda war.”

Daisy shook her head slowly in response, her shock fading as the video’s message settled in. “There’s no point. You have either a former or a current Rising Tide hacker putting these videos out. Even if we take them down, they’ll just crop back up. Removing them will make the message look true.”

“We don’t want people to think S.H.I.E.L.D. just takes the people they can use in,” stated Coulson, shaking his head. “Weaver is right; we need to remove that video.”

The look that crossed Daisy’s face was a cross between uncertainty and disapproval. “It’ll just show back up.”

“So we’ll remove it again and arrest whoever keeps posting it,” stated Weaver simply, as if the answer were that simple.

Daisy actually choked a little on her laughter. “Um, no. You won’t remove the video, I’ll end up doing it and, frankly, I have better things to do right now than play internet police. Inhumans and gifted aren’t exactly a secret at this point, so there’s not really a point in taking these videos down.” Sighing, she shoved a hand through her shortened locks. “I don’t like these videos either. They make my job harder. But at the same time, removing them will just make their message look true. Plus, the videos will pop up again and I don’t have the time to constantly scan the internet for new video postings.”

“So you just want to leave it up?” questioned Hunter in disbelief, his shoulders tightening. “Even though it will make your job a nightmare?”

“I’m not exactly closely affiliated with S.H.I.E.L.D. at this point,” reminded Daisy dryly, her hands bracing against the console. “We discussed this: the Inhumans still think you guys started the fight. If I’m going to help them, I can’t do anything that will make them think I’m recruiting them for S.H.I.E.L.D.’s purposes.”

“If you aren’t recruiting to help S.H.I.E.L.D. then why are you gathering these people?” asked Weaver suspiciously, her eyes narrowed in clear distrust.

“Because they need help?” suggested Daisy with a raised eyebrow. “Because keeping them safe keeps them out of Hydra’s hands? Or the hands of anyone else who hates us?”

“Even if the Inhumans aren’t helping us, Agent Johnson is keeping them out of our hair by gathering them together and keeping them safe,” stated Coulson, stepping into the argument gracefully. “Hydra gathered a lot of data from their experiments and I don’t think any of us want to see a repeat of what they did either preformed or applied.”

“Agreed,” stated May, her voice tense as she shot Weaver a look. “Our best solution to handling the Inhumans is to allow Agent Johnson to locate and gather them in one place where they can be protected from anyone who would use them as weapons.”

“With all due respect to Agent Johnson, these people could be a resource,” pointed out Weaver in slight frustration. “If they are willing to listen, we should at least make the suggestion that they join S.H.I.E.L.D.”

“If they want to help S.H.I.E.L.D., I’m not stopping them,” stated Daisy with a slight growl, “but I’m not suggesting it immediately, either. Most of these people aren’t interested in getting involved in conflicts of any kind and I’m not going to push the subject. I’m not your Inhuman and gifted recruiter.”

“So they aren’t willing to even protect themselves?” challenged Weaver with a disdainful look, “because that is what they’d be doing if they worked with S.H.I.E.L.D.”

“No, that’s what they’re doing if they work with me,” corrected Daisy, her shoulders tensing as she all be snarled at Weaver. “My team is working to protect the Inhumans. It’s my people that are handling threats to gifted and Inhumans.”

“What team?” challenged Weaver, cocking an eyebrow. “You and that medical student? You’re an asset Agent Johnson, but he isn’t exactly a trained agent.”

“No, but he doesn’t sit there and talk about us as if we aren’t living, breathing people either,” snapped Daisy as she pushed away from the console. Glancing at Coulson, she folded her arms over her chest as if she was expecting a fight. “Let me handle this, Coulson. I’ll have a talk with Ava. We know who she’s working for now, maybe we can convince her to help us instead.”

“No,” stated Coulson firmly, straightening from his position against the console. “I want you to focus on finding other Inhumans and bringing them in. You’re the only person we have who is even remotely trusted by the Inhumans and, as May pointed out, we don’t want them falling into the wrong hands. Hunter will handle Ward.”

“With pleasure,” agreed Hunter with a scowl. “What about the thefts, though?”

“Do both,” stated Coulson with a scowl. “Ward isn’t a scientist, but these thefts reek of Hydra. I’m sure there’s a connection.”

“You can’t just blame Ward for everything that goes wrong,” pointed out Daisy, even as she scowled herself. “Stealing lab equipment is way outside the norm for him.”

“We don’t know what his norm is at this point,” reminded Coulson, his lips pressing together as he leveled an irritated look at Daisy. “At this point, all we know is that he was previously a Hydra operative and we have to assume he still has that affiliation. After what he did to Agent Morse, I have no doubt he’s capable of anything.”

“Can I shoot him when I find him?” asked Hunter almost hopefully.

“Do whatever you need to do in order to take care of him,” stated Coulson, his eyes darting to Hunter. “Ward is too dangerous to be allowed to run around freely.”

Daisy’s lips thinned as she turned to the door, throwing out over her shoulder: “Careful, he survived when I tried to shoot him.” She exited then, leaving the room in silence behind her.

Coulson’s brow furrowed in concern, even as Weaver let out a noise of complete disapproval.

“Coulson, I’m not sure how wise keeping Agent Johnson around is,” warned Weaver, her lips pursed in a firm line. “I know she’s your favorite agent, but she’s beginning to look like a liability.”

“Agent Johnson won’t do anything to harm us,” insisted Coulson, his face tightening as he almost glared at the door. “She’s understandably upset- Ward was her SO before he revealed he was a Hydra spy. He’s also kidnapped her, twice. Once was under the guise of helping her and it resulted in her gaining her Inhuman powers.”

“She sounded almost as if she were defending him,” remarked Weaver in clear disapproval. “It’s something you need to monitor, Coulson. That woman isn’t completely human and everyone here needs to keep that in mind.”

“Agent Johnson used to be a hacker for the Rising Tide,” informed May, her eyes also locked on the doors Daisy had stormed off through. “Every once in a while, she reverts to that mentality.” Glancing at Coulson, she added with a grimace, as if the words left a bad taste in her mouth: “Though she does have a point about not automatically blaming Ward for these thefts. As much as I hate to shift any blame off his shoulders, we can’t prove he was involved in this. There are a lot of other, more likely suspects. We need to eliminate them before blaming Ward.”

“He put out a message saying we aren’t trustworthy and suggested we would use the Inhumans for our own purposes,” reminded Coulson with a scowl, turning fully to May. “He has a plan and I won’t be surprised if this is part of it.”

“So let Hunter handle him and have Morse look into the thefts,” suggested May calmly, her arms crossing over the front of her uniform. “Most of that project can be done from here. She can gather the information and then pass it on to Hunter, who can handle the field end of things. That frees up Hunter to track down Ward.”

“Why not have someone else track down Ward?” suggested Weaver with a frown. “You have plenty of Agents at this point, Coulson.”

“Because Hunter knows how Ward works,” explained Coulson with a shrug. “He’s familiar with the man and that gives him an edge. Besides, Ward tried to kill him and ended up nearly killing Morse in the process.”

“So it’s revenge,” remarked Weaver, her frown deepening. “That’s a dangerous assignment to hand him. When these things become personal, they get messy.”

“Normally I’d agree,” assured Coulson, his artificial hand opening and closing a few times beneath his new artificial skin, “but in this case, I think personal is what we need. Ward needs to be stopped and I really don’t care how it’s done. No prison can hold him and no one has been able to permanently bring him down. At this point, I’m not sure anything less than executing him would do us any good.”

Weaver paused for a moment before slowly nodding in agreement. “As much as I hate to do it, I agree. Ward does need to be taken down. Just make sure Agent Hunter doesn’t get reckless.”

“I’m sure May and Mack can keep him in line,” confirmed Coulson, glancing at the former pilot.

May cocked an eyebrow but nodded all the same. “Shouldn’t be a problem.”

“Alright Coulson, do whatever you need to,” stated Weaver, though she didn’t sound happy about it. “Keep me up to date.”

“Of course,” assured Coulson, sighing slightly as the image of Weaver disappeared. Without her looking on, his shoulders slumped slightly in an almost defeated stance.

“Were you serious about letting me kill Ward?” asked Hunter suspiciously, shifting from one foot to the other. “Because as much as I’d love to put a bullet in that man’s skull, it isn’t like you to issue a kill order if you don’t have to.”

“Unfortunately I don’t see another choice,” admitted Coulson with a sigh. “Ward is too dangerous to leave out there on his own, but I can’t think of anywhere we could send him if we did manage to capture him.”

“Capturing him would be nearly impossible,” added May, glancing over at Hunter. “The only chance we’d have is if we used Sky-Daisy as bai-”

“We aren’t bringing Daisy into this,” cut in Coulson, scowling at the mere thought. “Whatever Ward’s obsession with her is, we aren’t feeding it. Hunter can take out Ward, Morse can look into the equipment thefts and forward anything requiring leg work to Hunter. It will give her something to do.”

“She’ll appreciate that,” admitted Hunter with a sigh. “This whole bed rest thing is frustrating her.”

Coulson shot the merc a sympathetic look, raising his real hand to land on the man’s shoulder. “Hang in there. She needs you to keep her grounded right now.” Smirking, he added: “Literally.”

Hunter rolled his eyes slightly, glaring at Coulson some as he shrugged off the man’s shoulder. “Easier said than done.” Shifting his hands from across his chest to his pockets, Hunter headed for the door. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a spy to try to make happy.”

As soon as he was out the door. Coulson turned to meet May’s gaze. “You can keep Hunter in check, right?”

“I’ll try,” stated May simply as she too passed Coulson and headed for the door, “but you’re playing with fire Coulson. Be careful you don’t get burned.”

Stepping through the door, she left the current Director of SHIELD standing silently in the command center, shoulders slumped and tension drawing his face tight.

----------------------------------------

Daisy half stormed into her office/computer space, shoulders tense and eyes furious. For a minute, she paced around the room angrily, just trying to settle down. It was how Lincoln found her as he stepped into the room.

“I’m going to assume the meeting didn’t go well,” remarked Lincoln, eying the way she was pacing like he thought she might bite.

“Weaver is a bitch,” stated Daisy with a scowl, fingers flexing at her sides. Beneath their feet, the Earth rumbled slightly, though it didn’t begin to shake.

Lincoln watched Daisy silently for a moment before asking a single, loaded question. “Are you beginning to have doubts about S.H.I.E.L.D.?”

“No,” stated Daisy immediately, shaking her head firmly before turning to Lincoln, “Coulson and the rest of the team are good. They don’t want to use us as weapons.”

“You really believe that?” asked Lincoln skeptically, raising an eyebrow. “You really think they can just accept your powers?”

Groaning slightly, Daisy took a deep, forceful breath and dropped into her computer chair. “Look, I know you find it hard to believe Lincoln, but they really aren’t going to hurt us.”

Lincoln made a noise of disagreement but otherwise didn’t comment. Instead, he motioned to the second computer in the room- one he used. It had access to the internet and nothing else, but it allowed him to help track down Inhumans that were displaced by the previous chaos in Afterlife. “I’ve been digging around for more videos while you were in your meeting. I recognize a few of the people, but not all of them.”

“Any chance we can track them down and at least make sure they’re alright?” asked Daisy, changing trajectory to lean against the chair in front of the computer.

“Maybe?” replied Lincoln, sighing slightly. “I’m not you. I can find the videos but I can’t figure out where they were sent from. Or made.”

Sighing, Daisy nodded and pushed away from the chair, rubbing her eyes. “Alright. I want you to download the videos like I showed you and save them to a drive. We’ll take them back to the warehouse and I’ll look at them there.”

Both of Lincoln’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, his lips thinning slightly. “Was the meeting that bad?”

“Weaver is a bitch,” repeated Daisy, clicking some keys on her keyboard and turning towards the doors again. “I’m going to see Mack about getting some of S.H.I.E.L.D.’s old hardware brought to the warehouse for our use. Get the videos downloaded and see if you can figure anything else out. Any words on the list serves?”

“Most where shut down when Afterlife was under attack to protect the people living among humans,” stated Lincoln with a shrug. “I’ve tried to get some of them up again, but to limited effect. Most of the others who weren’t in Afterlife seem like they want to lay low for now.”

“I don’t blame them,” admitted Daisy with a sigh, shoving her hand through her shorn locks. “I have a bad feeling about this social media campaign though.”

“You think someone is out to hurt us?” asked Lincoln, his brow furrowing as he pulled his chair back out and dropped into the seat.

Daisy shrugged, leaning back against her desk and folding her arms over her chest. “I have no clue, but it doesn’t exactly look good.”

Nodding slowly, Lincoln laced his hands in front of him and looked up at her with a tilted head. “Did you manage to get the video decrypted?”

“Yeah,” confirmed Daisy, closing her eyes with a wince. “It was from my former teammate. The one who betrayed us.”

“The one you shot?” asked Lincoln, his eyebrows shooting up in surprise. “What did he want?”

“He wanted to give me a warning,” stated Daisy with a sigh, arms tightening across her chest. “About the anti-S.H.I.E.L.D. video.”

“Did he release it?” questioned Lincoln, his brow furrowing in concern. “It could make things a lot more difficult for us.”

“Look, this team doesn’t work for S.H.I.E.L.D., I do,” reminded Daisy, straightening as she pushed away from the table again. “Whoever we manage to get on our team, it’s not about S.H.I.E.L.D. All we’ll be doing as a team is protecting other Gifted and Inhumans. We’re not going to become weapons for some government organization.”

“S.H.I.E.L.D. is backing us,” stated Lincoln calmly, turning slightly in his chair as the computer dinged. “You can’t expect them to support us and not ask for anything in return.”

“Except by gathering the Inhumans back together, we’re reducing the number of problems S.H.I.E.L.D. might have to deal with,” pointed out Daisy. She stepped towards the door as she spoke, turning to leave. “Look, we’ll discuss this later. I’ll meet you back at the warehouse when I’m done talking with Mack.”

“Yeah, sure,” confirmed Lincoln, his voice distracted as whatever had happened on the computer caught his eye.

Daisy shook her head at that and exited the nook, leaving Lincoln to whatever had caught his attention.

----------------------------------------

“Where’s Bobbi?”

May’s voice cut into the dark room where Hunter sat, illuminated only by the numerous monitors that surrounded him. The light made his face appear harsher than normal and the strain that was usually somewhat hidden was plainly evident. He looked exhausted and discouraged, though the determination in the set of his shoulders helped bely that. Still, it was pretty apparent that the ramifications of the last few months had worn him down.

Glancing back at the other agent for half a second, he barely blinked before looking back at the monitor in front of him. “She’s in the lab with Jemma. They were babbling away about something scientific, so I decided to see if I could scare up anything on our former resident psychopath.”

“I doubt there will be anything obvious,” remarked May with a slight scowl. “The man was a good agent. If he wants to disappear, he will.”

“He’s releasing propaganda videos,” pointed out Hunter with a shake of his head. “And unlike Flower, I’m not convinced he isn’t behind all of them.”

May nodded, dropping a flash drive on the desk in front of Hunter. “That’s the message he sent Daisy. You might be able to get more from it.”

Dropping his eyes to the drive, Hunter picked it up gingerly, turning it over in his hands. “We check it for nasty surprises?”

“Daisy decoded it and nothing happened,” stated May with a shrug. “It looks like it was meant for her. There’s two other messages on there as well, both audio only. Coulson found both in boxes left outside the base and addressed to ‘Skye’.”

“Were they encoded?” asked Hunter as he plugged the drive into his computer and brought the messages up. The frozen face of Grant Ward stared back at him, neutral and calm.

“No, but they were full of his usual lies,” remarked May with an acidic scoff. “His obsession with her is scary.”

“Didn’t she shoot him?” questioned Hunter, glancing up at May as he clicked between the message dates before settling on the first one.

“Yes,” confirmed May as the former merc pressed the play button on the first recording.

Ward’s voice filled the room, echoing slightly like he was in a large room when he made the recording. “Skye, look, I know we aren’t on the best of terms, but I need you to listen to me. You and all of the other Inhumans are in danger. Hydra isn’t completely dead and they’re targeting gifted and Inhumans alike. You need to be careful; if they find out about you, you’ll become their primary target and they won’t stop until you are dead. I know I have no right to ask this of you but listen to me. I don’t want to see you end up dead.” The message cut off then, the roar of a car engine blocking out anything else he was going to say. The audio recording abruptly cut off there, leaving the room in silence.

Frowning, Hunter leaned back in his chair with an uncertain look. “As much as I hate the man, that doesn’t sound like a total bag of crap with what we’ve been seeing.”

May didn’t say anything, just stole the mouse and clicked on the second audio file. Again, Ward’s voice flowed from the speakers. This time though, it was quieter and the echo from before was gone. There was no other sound though, indicating he was probably inside. “Skye, you’re being too visible. I know you’re staying low, but you need to stay lower. Please Skye, just do your computer work or something until I take care of this. I don’t want to see you get hurt because of me.” Again, the tape ended abruptly, though this time there’s the faint muffled sound of voices that interrupts the tape. It clicks off before anything they were saying is audible though.

“Again, I hate the man, but it does sound like he’s trying to help her,” remarked Hunter, his lips thinning. “Are you sure he’s not giving a credible warning?”

“If someone were going after Inhumans the way he’s describing, we’d know it by now,” stated May firmly. “We have better resources than he could ever dream of.”

Hunter hummed slightly, his lips thinning in unspoken protest. “Alright, I’ll look these over, see if there’s a clue here somewhere. Anything else?”

“We’re passing the theft case on to Bobbi, just so you know,” added May. “She won’t be permitted in the field, but we thought she could do the research on this end. It will give her something to do.”

“She’ll appreciate that,” agreed Hunter, though his shoulders tensed. “If you’re giving it to Bobbi though, put a guard on her. She’ll try to go out and do things on her own if you don’t.”

“She isn’t permitted in the field right now,” reminded May, dropping a hand to his shoulder. “We aren’t going to let her get hurt.”

“It isn’t a question of ‘let’ with Bob,” corrected Hunter with a heavy sigh. He leaned back heavily in the chair, crossing his arms unhappily even as his eyes remained focused on the screen. “It’s a question of her seeking forgiveness over permission.”

May paused for a moment but nodded all the same. “I’ll make sure she’s locked out of the vehicles. It’ll keep her from leaving without permission.”

“Thanks,” muttered Hunter as he pulled up the video from before and began clicking through it frame by frame. “So Flower saw the video but she didn’t hear the audio files?”

“Coulson doesn’t want her to even hear the name ‘Ward’ if at all possible,” stated May firmly. The set of her shoulders said she didn’t disagree. “He has caused her nothing but trouble. Keeping them apart is his main goal.”

“Might be hard if we end up getting into a fight with him,” remarked Hunter as he paused on a video frame. “You know, she is a grown woman and an agent. It isn’t your job to protect her.”

May scowled, glaring at Hunter. “We need her focused, Hunter. Ward is a distraction for her. That’s why we made it your job to track him down.”

“And I’m not arguing that assignment,” assured Hunter with a shrug. “I’m going to enjoy putting a bullet in his head for what he did to Bobbi, but, I’m not sure keeping those messages from her is right though. What if he’s not blowing smoke out his ass?”

“He is,” stated May without room for argument. “We looked into it. There was nothing we found that indicated his comments were credible. As far as we can tell, he’s making up the threats to keep her out of the field for some reason. I’m still not convinced he isn’t the actual threat to the Inhumans.”

Hunter pressed his lips together, but he didn’t say another word. Instead, he began flipping through the video panels again. “I’m going to look through this. I’ll let you know when I find something.”

Nodding, May stepped away and headed for the doors. “I’ll take care of Bobbi’s guard. Just keep me informed.”

“Wouldn’t dream of doing anything else,” muttered Hunter as his focus narrowed on the files. However, as soon as he heard the door shut, he pushed away from his computer and began rooting around through a drawer. A moment later, he pulled a flash drive from the drawer and plugged it into the computer below the other drive. Quickly, he dragged all three of the files onto the second drive and disconnected it. Pocketing the new drive, he closed out the files, locked the computer, and headed for the door.

---------------------------

Stepping into the lab, Coulson found Bobbi sitting alone at her work station. She seemed completely engaged in her work, not even glancing up as he entered the room. Simmons was nowhere in sight, hopefully having a nice lunch to make up for the dinner he ruined with work.

“Bobbi,” greeted Coulson, catching the biologist’s attention.

She looked up immediately, leaning back in her seat a bit to glance at Coulson before she spun fully to face him. “Coulson, what’s up? Simmons is grabbing us some lunch if you’re looking for her.”

“You, actually,” corrected Coulson, holding up a folder for her to see. “We needed to shift some projects around and I was hoping you’d feel like doing some research. Hunter is main on this case, but he has another project that has priority to worry about.”

“Sure,” agreed Bobbi, standing from her chair and heading towards Coulson. She didn’t shake as she crossed the room and didn’t appear winded from the exercise. It was a relief to see. Once she’d reached him, he silently passed her the file. “What’s the problem?”

“Thefts of classified, specialized scientific material,” explained Coulson, folding his hands behind his back. “We need to know who, why, and where this stuff ended up. If possible, we’d also like to know what they’re planning to do with it.”

“Security video?” questioned Bobbi, flipping through the pages of the file again a little more slowly. “I see stills, so I’m assuming there’s actual video.”

Coulson offered her a flash drive in response. “There’s no sound, but maybe you’ll see something we didn’t. You know how to read lips if I remember correctly.”

“Yeah, I learned from Agent Barton,” confirmed Bobbi, tucking the drive into the folder and carefully shutting it. “Anything else I need to know?”

“We’ve already asked Simmons and Fitz to look over the equipment list and see if they can find some indication of what someone might be doing with all of this,” stated Coulson, tapping the folder gently. “Otherwise, this file is classified. The investigation was handed to us by Ross and he wants it kept under wraps. A lot of this equipment was purchased on government funds.”

“Good reason to keep it quiet,” remarked Bobbi, tucking the folder under her arm. “Hunter is the other lead?”

“Everything you find or learn goes to him,” confirmed Coulson with a nod. “We need this taken care of fast, Bobbi. A lot of this equipment looks like it could be incredibly dangerous if used wrong.”

“You’ve got it, Coulson,” agreed Bobbi as she pointed to her desk. “I’ll get right on it.”

Nodding Coulson turned towards the door. “Consult with Simmons when she comes back. I gave her and Fitz a copy of the equipment last night, so they might have something already.”

“Will do,” assured Bobbi, her back already to him and the file open on the table beside her. Coulson paused momentarily to glance back at her before leaving the room, a worried tilt to his lips.

---------------------------------

In the mechanical bay, the parts of various vehicles lay strewn about. Partially deconstructed cars, bikes, and other machines from across the base covered most surfaces save the floor where pathways had been made in the space. Along the right wall, a string of chemical cabinets stood apart from the rest of the room, the only truly clear space the seven feet or so immediately around the cabinets. Which was exactly where Daisy spotted Fitz as she walked into the room.

“Where is it,” muttered Fitz as he threw another cabinet open, half disappearing inside it in his search for whatever he’d lost. “I know it’s here somewhere…”

“Lose your favorite screw driver again?” teased Daisy from just inside the door, an amused smirk on her face. Her shoulders were tense though, belying her nerves.

“No, I can’t find my design gloves,” explained Fitz with a frustrated sigh as she snapped the cabinet doors shut again. “Mack made them to help with my hands.”

“Design gloves?” repeated Dais with a raised eyebrow. “Like a drawing thing?”

“It’s for a holographic table,” explained Fitz with a sigh, abandoning the cabinets to begin searching the surrounding the tables. “It helps me design things. Minimizes the shaking.”

“Right,” murmured Daisy, shuffling a little as she anxiously glanced around the room. “Speaking of Mack, have you seen him?”

“He’s working on the Quinjet,” replied Fitz as he snapped the cabinet shut with a scowl. Giving up his search momentarily, he turned his focus completely on Daisy. “Is there a way I can help?”

Daisy paused for a moment before sighing and dropped ono a car hood. “I want to set up a secure system at the warehouse.”

“Why?” asked Fitz, recoiling slightly in shock. “What about your office here?”

Rubbing the back of her neck a little, Daisy gave him a guilty look. “I’m not feeling comfortable here anymore.” At the borderline panicked look the engineer slot her, she added: “I’m not leaving SHIELD. I just-” another frustrated sigh, “I don’t trust Weaver and I want stuff Lincoln and I are doing somewhere safe from, well, everyone.”

“Coulson would never let Weaver or anyone else use that information,” assured Fitz, crossing the room to lay a hand on her shoulder. “You have to know that.”

“I know, I know,” sighed Daisy, shaking her head a little. “It’s not Coulson I don’t trust. It’s Weaver. I mean, that whole council thing took out SHIELD before. I don’t want sensitive data about Inhumans laying around if something happens again.”

“I understand,” admitted Fitz slowly, though he looked unhappy. “As long as you aren’t afraid of Coulson.”

“I’m not afraid Coulson is going to do anything,” repeated Daisy with a minor shrug as the door behind them creaked open. “I trust Coulson to tell me the truth.”

“Maybe you should rethink that, Flower,” suggested Hunter as he walked up behind Daisy, hands tucked in his pockets.

She glanced over at the merc, giving him a slight scowl. “And I would do that because…”

“Because he’s been keeping things from you,” replied Hunter, pulling his hand from his pocket and holding up a flash drive momentarily before he tossed it towards Daisy. Instinctively, she caught it. “Those messages were left for you, but our illustrious leader decided to hide them rather than give them to you.”

Daisy stared at the drive silently, visibly shaken by Hunter’s accusation. It took a moment for her fingers to close around the device, clearly uncertain. Still, she spoke with resignation rather than surprise. “What’s he been hiding.”

“Messages,” stated Hunter, gesturing to the drive. “Ward’s little video wasn’t the first she’s sent you. Coulson hid the rest.”

“I’m not interested in anything Ward has to say,” growled Daisy, holding the drive back out to Hunter. “All he does is lie.”

“Listen to them, Flower,” insisted Hunter, crossing his arms across his chest and making it apparent he wasn’t taking the drive back. “Regardless of if you want to hear what he says or not, you need to hear him out. He’s warning about threats to you and the Inhumans. It’s worth listening to.”

Again, Daisy stared at the drive, retracting her hand slowly. The unhappy look on her face spoke volumes as to how she felt about the messages. “Why are you pushing this so hard?”

For a moment, Hunter didn’t offer a response. Then a shrug, his eyes dropping to the ground. “Because I’d do the same. If Bob were in your place and I were in Ward’s, I’d warn her about anything I thought was a threat. And I wouldn’t appreciate anyone hiding my messages from her.”

“You hate Ward,” reminded Daisy, fingers clenching around the drive. “Why would you care about his messages to me?”

“Because he obviously is willing to risk getting caught to deliver them,” stated Hunter simply. “I may hate him, but I know how it feels to want to protect someone you care for.” Sighing, he leaned a little on the wall beside the door. “Don’t get me wrong, I am going to shoot him next time I see him, but I can’t just sit back and pretend like the man isn’t clearly trying to protect you.”

“You’re projecting,” remarked Daisy dryly as she finally pocketed the drive.

Hunter just shrugged and turned back to the door. “Whatever you say, Flower.” Then he was gone, heading off to do whatever it was he did.

Glancing at Fitz, who appeared to have gone back to his search during the conversation, Daisy asked: “He’s projecting, right?”

“What?” asked Fitz, glancing back at her. “You mean Hunter?”

“Yeah,” confirmed Daisy, “he’s projecting with this whole Ward thing, right?”

Fitz pressed his lips together in a thin line for a moment, clearly unhappy Still, he sighed and motioned to where she’d stuffed the drive in her pocket. “When Coulson went to Ward for help after you disappeared and the other SHIELD attacked, he was reluctant to help us. Er, Ward was, not Coulson.”

“I figured,” remarked Daisy with a raised eyebrow. “What does this have to do with Hunter projecting?”

Fitz shot her a mildly irritated look and continued with his story, ignoring her question. “Ward d-didn’t want to help us and only agreed because Coulson said he’d leave them- er, Ward and Kara, alone.” Fitz paused there, brow furrowing as he crossed to a work table a few feet away.

“Fitz?” prompted Daisy, drawing the genius’ attention back to her. “What’s your point?”

“Right,” muttered Fitz, shaking his head, “well, Ward stopped being reluctant when he heard you were missing. After that, all he wanted to do was help. Well, until he dropped Kara off and vanished.”

“See?” asked Daisy, throwing her hands up in the air. “That is my point. The man was playing you all. He was pretending to care what happened to me because it’s what you expected him to do.”

“I don’t think it was faked,” stated Fitz simply, shrugging as he turned back to his search. “Whatever Ward was thinking or feeling about the rest of it, I’m not convinced what he felt concerning you was entirely a lie.”

“Trust me, it was,” muttered Daisy as the door behind her suddenly burst open again. Except this time, it was Lincoln who came rushing in, looking somewhat pale and uneasy.

“Daisy, we have a problem,” stated Lincoln, breathing heavily. “I found an Inhuman, but I think they’re in danger.”

Immediately, Daisy was on alert. Her shoulders straightened, attention snapping onto Lincoln. “What’s wrong.”

“The woman I found is named Desidera,” explained Lincoln, taking a slow, deep breath. “She appears to be Inhuman- or at least is asking a lot of the questions I’d expect a new Inhuman to ask.”

“Why do you think she’s in danger?” prompted Daisy, focusing on the more pressing part of his statement.

Lincoln fished a piece of paper out of his pocket, offering it to Daisy. Opening it, she found a print out of a call-to-arms against Inhumans. There wasn’t a location listed, but the title ‘Take Back Dallas’ made it pretty evident that it was probably going down in Dallas.

“I found videos of this group attacking people as well,” added Lincoln, drawing in a deep breath and straightening up. “They’re in the same area she is.”

“I still don’t get it,” admitted Daisy, passing the flyer back to Lincoln. “Yeah, it’s not a good place and I agree we need to get out there and help her, but what makes you think she’s in immediate danger?”

“One of the attacks took place outside where she lives,” explained Lincoln, shaking his head a little, “and based on what she wrote online, she isn’t one of the lucky ones that didn’t manifest a physical change.”

A curse fell from Daisy’s mouth before she passed the flyer back to him and headed for the door. “Let’s grab a jet and get out there.”

“Do you want me to alert Coulson?” called Fitz, startling her slightly.

Glancing back at the engineer, Daisy momentarily paused before nodding. “Just tell him that we found an Inhuman we think could be in danger and we’re heading out to try to help her. He doesn’t need to know anything else right now.”

“Right,” muttered Fitz as both Daisy and Lincoln exited the room. Once they were gone, he let out an unhappy sigh and headed for the door, brow furrowed in thought.

--------------------------------------------

Silently, May stepped into Phil's office, eyes turned down to the folders in her hands. Across from the door, Coulson sat with his eyes glued to the monitor before him, intent on something she couldn't have seen from the door. Not that May bothered to give the room more than a cursory glance to ensure he wasn't on a conference call of some kind. When she confirmed he wasn't, she crossed the room, stopping before his desk and setting the stack of files in front of him.

"I'm not your secretary, Coulson," reminded May as she grabbed the top folder and headed for the desk she'd set up in his office.

"If I ever mistakenly refer to you as my secretary, I'm confident you'll correct me in a very memorable way," assured Coulson without looking up from his computer. "I seem to recall Agent Stevens walking with a limp for months after implying as much once."

"I told you, Stevens fell down the stairs," stated May, her voice completely dead as she stepped around his desk. "It isn't my fault he's clumsy."

"Agent Stevens was an acrobat," reminded Coulson dryly, scooting aside so she could see what he was looking at.

"Not a very good one," stated May simply as she leaned forward to see what had his attention so firmly on his screen. "What is this?"

"Quinn's bank accounts," replied Coulson with an unhappy sound. "It looks like he's crawled out of whatever hole he was hiding in, but I can't tell where he was."

“Was there activity on the account?” questioned May, leaning over to better view the screen.

Coulson nodded slowly, tapping a highlighted line on the screen. “There’s been a number of checks written to contractors and construction groups over the past few months. The thing is, most have been in small quantities, so the activity hasn’t been noticeable.”

“What flagged it?’ asked May, stealing the mouse to scroll through the account activity.

“The account was cleaned out,” stated Coulson, rubbing his eyes as he leaned back. “The remaining money in the account was divided out to three accounts, but the money disappears after that. The accounts are in China, Switzerland, and the Cayman Islands, none of whom are willing to divulge information about who owns the accounts.”

“You’re thinking dummy accounts,” stated May, clicking through the list of transactions over the past few months. “How much money was spent on these construction firms?”

“Close to 1.5 billion overall, broken down into thousands of transactions that fall under the amount needed to remain off any international or national regulatory boards’ radar,” stated Coulson with a sigh. “I don’t like this.”

“Neither do I,” agreed May with a sigh. “Any consistency with the location?”

Coulson shook his head slowly, a headache clearly building. “The contractors are from all over, but most of them are international firms and none of them are talking.”

“And there’s nothing on any other account to go off?” pressed May, clicking between various screens to glance at the other accounts in Quinn’s name.

“One was drained shortly after we took Garrett down, but the money went into various accounts that were all emptied at once in multiple locations and none were emptied by Quinn,” explained Coulson, his frustration audible. “He’s doing everything in his power to avoid being found and we can’t seem to figure out where he’s hiding.”

“The man is a technology genius, he knows how to hide his tracks,” reminded May, straightening up again and leaning on the desk. “Can we send a surveillance team out to track him down?”

“I’m considering it,” admitted Coulson, his hands dropping into his lap. “I’m just not sure who I’d send. Ideally, we’d want to get close to him, but we need to find him first.”

“Let me look into it,” stated May, tapping the files she’d brought in. “Right now, I need you to focus on these files.”

“What are they?” asked Coulson, flipping one of the folders open to look at the images inside. One is a camera shot of a group of men, decked out in heavy body armor with large, semi-automatic looking weapons in hand. There were one or two that had a red band on their arm though with the familiar octopus-looking insignia. “Hydra goons?”

“It’s hard to tell,” admitted May with her own irritated tone. “Only three people seem to have those bands, the rest just look like common mercenaries.”

“Hydra doesn’t hire mercenaries,” reminded Coulson, his lips pressing together in a thin line momentarily. “Is this the attack on our hanger?”

“Yes,” confirmed May, moving away from the desk to stand in front of it rather than beside it, “the first folder is from surveillance cameras recovered in the hanger. The second folder is from the camera mounted on the Quinjet.”

“The ones the military uses for spy operations?” asked Coulson with a raised eyebrow, glancing up at May. “How was that one activated?”

“I set it so the cameras would act as security devices,” explained May. “Movement activates the cameras and they begin taking photos of their surroundings. After what happened with 33 and Morse, it seemed prudent.”

“Wireless transmission?” pressed Coulson, leaning back in his chair with the first folder in hand.

May nodded.

“What about damage to the warehouse?” continued Coulson, flipping through the photos. He tried to pick one up with his new hand, only to drop it rather suddenly. Glaring slightly at the offending photo, he picked it up again, only to wrinkle the edges when his grip was too tight.

“We lost all of the equipment inside,” admitted May, her lips compressing further in a frown. “I checked a few other SHIELD hangers we commandeered. “The Dallas, Philadelphia, LA, and Seattle hangers have all been hit.”

“All under the same name?” asked Coulson, throwing the photo back in the file in frustration. He rubbed a hand against his temple momentarily before finally looking up from the photos, his face pinched slightly in anger.

Again, May nodded, ignoring his clear difficulties. “I took the liberty of having the rest of the hangers sold and bought new ones under other various alias’ in the same airports. I’ve dispatched teams to move the equipment to the new locations under armed guard. Hopefully that will end this.”

Coulson nodded slowly, eyes dropping back to the images again. “Is it the same team each time?”

“Impossible to say,” stated May simply. “Presumably, yes.”

Heaving a heavy sigh, Coulson set the folder aside and scrubbed his real hand over his face. “So Hydra is trying to rebuild itself, again, and Quinn is possibly up to no good.”

“It appears that way,” confirmed May quietly.

Nodding slowly, Coulson hit a few buttons on his computer, then pulled a flash drive from the device and passed it to May. “Here’s what we have on Quinn. I want surveillance on him, if we can find him. This is your only responsibility to me right now.”

“Coulson?” questioned May, raising an eyebrow as she took the device.

“We never recovered the stolen gravatonium,” reminded Coulson with an unhappy tensing of his jaw. “If Quinn has it, I don’t want him to have the chance to use it.”

Taking the drive, May nodded slowly. “Yes, sir.”

“Whatever it takes,” repeated Coulson, though there was a touch of sadness in his eyes.

“I’ll handle it,” assured May. “What about-”

The sound of a knock at the door cut May off, causing both her and Coulson to turn to the wooden barrier. A moment later, it creaked open, Fitz sticking his head inside.

“Director Coulson?” called the engineer, his voice a little uncertain as he glanced around the room.

“You can come in, Fitz,” assured Coulson, flipping off his monitor and shutting the folder on his desk.

Pushing open the door the rest of the way, Fitz slowly stepped into the room, clearly uncertain about what he was about to do. “Sir, I just wanted to come tell you that Daisy and Lincoln are leaving. They found an Inhuman they think might need help.”

“Where?” asked Coulson immediately, his back stiffening as he pushed himself up from his desk. The wood cracked slightly under his new hand as he gripped it too hard, but he didn’t appear to notice or if he did then he didn’t care.

“She just said to tell you-” started Fitz, only for May to cut him off.

“Fitz, some of our resources have been compromised,” stated May, laying her hand on the engineer’s shoulders so she could meet his eyes. “We need to know where they went.”

“Dallas, I think,” replied Fitz, horror sliding over his face. “Are they in danger?”

“We don’t know,” explained Coulson as he came around the desk. “May, I want you to head to Dallas with Hunter. Back them up.”

“Yes sir,” agreed May without objection, releasing Fitz and heading rapidly for the door.

As soon as she was out of the room, Coulson turned his eyes on Fitz. “I need to know everything they said.”

---------------------------------

-Dallas, Texas-

Flipping some switches, Daisy brought up the landing path for the Quinjet. Her fingers danced over the controls as Lincoln sat beside her, the communication headset on and his eyes focused on the navigation computer in front of him.

“Where did you learn to fly, anyway?” asked Daisy, her eyes momentarily sliding to Lincoln. “It’s not exactly medicine.”

“My grandfather was a pilot,” explained Lincoln, scrolling through the flight path information. “It looks like there’s storms around Dallas. We’re going to have to be careful coming in.”

“Got it,” confirmed Daisy, as she began to drop the jet towards the ground. “Contact air traffic control?”

Lincoln nodded, tapping the headset on. “Addison flight tower, this is aircraft X834. We’re coming in from the north and beginning descent. Requesting queue number.” For a moment, he was silent as flight control relayed information to him. “Alright, thanks.”

Muting the headset again, he glanced at Daisy. “We’re clear to land now, but there’s a problem. They’re saying our hanger was vandalized.”

“So we can’t use it?” asked Daisy, brow furrowing heavily. “Wait, vandalized how?”

“No clue, they didn’t say,” admitted Lincoln with his own concerned look. “Will we be able to get where we need to?”

“This thing doubles as a helicopter,” reminded Daisy as she began their descent. “If need be we can take it into the city. I’d just rather not call attention to ourselves that way.”

“Point,” agreed Lincoln, falling silent as they swept towards the ground.

It only took a moment for them to land, Daisy bringing them down easily. Instead of landing on the strip though, she put the jet in hover mode and headed towards their hanger. It was the last one in the line and, even before they could fully see the hanger, they could see the damage.

“Shit,” muttered Lincoln, eyeing the gaping hole in the side of the building that had been poorly boarded up. “Do you think it was the same group that attacked in Chicago?”

“Maybe,” muttered Daisy as she brought the jet down outside the hanger and unstrapped herself. “Stay here and contact Coulson. We need to let him know the hanger has been hit.”

Nodding, Lincoln began pressing buttons on the radio as Daisy jumped from her seat and headed for the back of the jet. She dropped the back ramp without a second thought, moving rapidly down it and jumping off once she reached the end. The air from the hover jets blew her hair across her face, whipping up dust and making it momentarily more difficult to see. Quickly moving around the jet, she headed for the hanger and activated the motors to open the door. It slid open with an ominous squeak and she was inside before it had finished sliding open.

The inside of the hanger was trashed. Canisters of fuel were missing or spilled, the tools were all gone, and all but one SUV had been taken. The one that hadn’t was sitting on its side and possibly didn’t even run assuming they could right it. That someone had ransacked the hanger in search of equipment wasn’t lost on her. In Chicago, she’d been assuming the team that attacked was trying to take them down. Now, she wondered if they’d just hit the hanger looking for equipment.

Ensuring nothing was going to catch fire if she landed the jet inside, Daisy paused momentarily to use her powers to flip the SUV upright again before heading back to the jet. Getting back inside was a little more difficult than out, but she managed. She’s barely stepped back into the cockpit before Lincoln was speaking up.

“May said the hanger was hit when we were in Chicago,” stated Lincoln, watching as Daisy dropped back into the pilot’s seat and navigated into the hanger. “They already inventoried everything.”

“There’s one SUV left in there,” stated Daisy, setting the jet down and powering down the engines. “We can use that to get where we need to, assuming the engine will start. It was on its side when I found it.”

“Should we just take the quinjet into Dallas instead?” asked Lincoln, his brow furrowing. “I don’t like the idea of leaving it here and it might be quicker.”

“Except if something happens, we have no way out of here,” pointed out Daisy as she stood again and headed back towards the ramp down. “Come on, we’re losing time.”

“Why are you suddenly so anxious?” asked Lincoln as he quickly unstrapped and climbed from the seat. “I thought you said there was no evidence she was in immediate danger.”

“Yeah, that was before we found a hole in our hanger,” pointed out Daisy, as she rapidly descended the ramp and headed for the car. “We don’t know who did this or why, so I’m assuming the worst here and the sooner we check on and/or get her to our safe house, the better.”

“Can’t argue that,” muttered Lincoln, following her out and down the ramp. “What if the SUV won’t start though?”

“We’re gonna find out,” stated Daisy as she yanked open the door of the SUV and hopped inside.

The keys were in the ignition, as was common for SHIELD vehicles, and she didn’t hesitate to turn it. Except all the motor did when she turned the key was sputter and click, the ignition clicking but not starting. Cursing, Daisy released the key and took a deep breath, counting to five before she tried the ignition again. This time the engine clicked over by some miracle and she didn’t hesitate to motion for Lincoln to climb in. The other Inhuman didn’t pause, climbing in beside her. He was barely inside before Daisy was gunning it towards the hanger doors, hitting the remote to shut the door as soon as they’d cleared it.

“So where are we heading?” asked Daisy as they approached the exit to the airstrip. She slowed enough for the gate to open, then gunned it out onto the road.

“An apartment complex on the south end of Dallas,” stated Lincoln as he extracted an address and punched it into the navigation computer. “She hasn’t gone to work in a few days since the transformation.”

“What did she do?” asked Daisy as she pulled onto a freeway heading into the city proper.

Lincoln checked his paper quickly. “She was a private investigator.”

“At least that means she can probably defend herself,” muttered Daisy, pressing the accelerator a little harder once she’d confirmed there were no cops around. “How long until we get there?”

“Twenty minutes,” stated Lincoln as he reached up to grab the handhold above his head.

Daisy accelerated a little more. “I’m going to try to make it less. Hold on.”

---------------------------------------------

May set the second quinjet down just outside the hanger, leaving the cloaked aircraft in front of the closed door. Beside her, Hunter unstrapped quickly, glancing out the window. May did the same, scanning the hanger in front of them momentarily for head signatures.

“Looks like they left without us,” remarked Hunter, as he glanced at the readout. Leaning back again, he shot May a sideways glance. “What now?”

Instead of responding, May pulled off her headset and activated the long range communication unit in the plane. “This is Agent May; I need someone to respond.”

In the command center, Simmons looked up from the papers she was scribbling on, furrowing her brow as she hit the button that turned the microphone in the room on. “May, what’s wrong?”

Her voice cut across the line to both May and Hunter’s surprise. The two agents exchanged glances before May responded, her voice kept carefully even. “Simmons, what are you doing in the command center?”

“I was communicating with a few of the scientists on the helicarrier,” explained Simmons, her voice echoing through the cockpit. “What do you need?”

“I need Skye’s GPS tracker activated,” stated May, hitting a few buttons to get the jet back in the air. “And I need her location.”

“Of course!” agreed Simmons immediately, her fingers dancing over the screen in front of her. Immediately, the screen switched to a map of Dallas, a flashing dot appearing on the readout a moment later. “It looks like….” She trailed off however when the dot began to move. It didn’t move far though, bouncing around the same area. “Alright, I have Sky-er, Daisy, in southern Dallas. It looks like she’s at the corner of North Lancaster Avenue and Sabine Street.”

“What’s there, Simmons?” asked May as she took them back into the air and took off towards where Simmons had directed.

“An apartment building it looks like,” remarked Simmons as she pulled up a satellite image of the area. “I’m not seeing anything of particular interest around. Why is she out there?”

“Her and Lincoln are tracking another Inhuman they think might be in trouble,” explained May, her finger reaching out to the button on the communicator. “I need you to stay there, in case we need you.”

“I’ll be here,” assured Simmons, hitting a few buttons to set the maps on the table.

Flipping off the communicator, May glanced at Hunter. “Did you get the address?”

“In the system,” confirmed Hunter as he hit a few buttons. “We’re about five minutes out.”

“Good,” muttered May, her hands tensing on the controls. “I have a bad feeling about this.”

-----------------------------------

“This the place?” asked Daisy as she leaned forward to look up at the bland, three-story apartment building. It didn’t look particularly impressive, but that was probably a good thing.

“This is it,” confirmed Lincoln, checking the address before he opened the door to the car. “Come on, she’s expecting us.”

Daisy’s head snapped towards Lincoln before she scrambled out of the SUV after him. “What do you mean ‘she’s expecting us’?”

“I told her we were friends, people just like her, and that we’d come help her,” stated Lincoln as he headed quickly to the stairs up.

“Lincoln, you can’t just post that stuff online!” hissed Daisy, following him rapidly up the stairs. “What if it’s a trap?”

“She’s a private investigator,” snapped Lincoln, keeping his voice low. “She’s one of us and she’s scared. Don’t you remember being that way?”

Daisy paused on the stairs, wincing at his words. Still, she took a deep breath and pressed on after him. “It’s a security thing, Lincoln. People aren’t exactly comfortable with the whole ‘powered people’ thing.”

Rolling his eyes, Lincoln jogged up the last few steps and headed down the second floor. He stopped in front of door 203, knocking just as Daisy reached the door.

Jiggling her foot uneasily, Daisy took the moment to scan the area, searching for any signs something might be wrong. Down the hall, she noted a man and a woman who were loitering in the hall. There was nothing suspicious about them though and they appeared more interested in making out than anything she and Lincoln were doing.

The sound of the door creaking open caught her attention again, and she did her best to focus on the woman in front of them. A woman stood in front of them, a hoodie on with the hood pulled low to just above her eyes. The fearful way she glanced at them and the way her eyes darted around uneasily confirmed this woman was probably the one they were looking for at minimum, but Daisy still felt the need to ask.

“Are you Desidera?” asked Daisy as gently as she could, glancing at Lincoln to make sure she’d used the right name.

The woman in front of them nodded, eyes darting between Lincoln and Daisy suspiciously. “Can I help you?”

“I’m Lincoln,” introduced Lincoln, offering her his hand. “I sent you an e-mail earlier saying we’d be by to help you.”

“You don’t look…” her words trailed off there, eyes again scanning both Daisy and Lincoln for some something.

“Physically abnormal?” suggested Lincoln with a soft smile. “Daisy,” he gestured to Daisy, “and I didn’t physically deform when we went through the mists. We do have powers, though. Daisy can manipulate the vibration of molecules to make things shake and I can generate electricity.”

Nodding slowly, Desidera glanced down the hallway suspiciously before moving away from the door and gesturing for them to enter. “Sorry for the suspicion. I think one of my neighbors might be responsible for some of the violence around here. We keep getting this ‘anti-powers’ propaganda stuff. I’m not sure I have powers, but I definitely don’t…look normal anymore.”

Stepping into the apartment with Daisy not far behind, Lincoln turned to look at Desidera as she shut the door. “Can I ask what changed?”

Desidera paused momentarily, glancing at them with the same suspicion from before. Lincoln just smiled and held up his hands, letting some electricity spark between his appendages. She jumped a little at the sight, cursing slightly.

“Like I said, we have our own powers,” repeated Lincoln with a charming smile. “I promise, we are who we say we are.”

Nodding slowly, Desidera reached up and pushed her hood back, revealing the top of her head. The bald, transparent, top of her head. Blond hair started at about halfway down her head and her eyes were revealed to be little more than black pupils. She stood there uneasily for a moment, though neither Lincoln nor Daisy reacted. When they didn’t, Desidera took a deep breath and explained. “I took this fish oil pill. It’s supposed to be healthy, you know? And the next thing I know, there’s this black cocoon growing around me. When I broke free, my head was clear and I was bald.”

“Sometimes that happens,” assured Lincoln, standing and approaching her carefully. “The important thing right now is getting you somewhere safe and helping you finish transitioning.”

“Finish?” repeated Desidera, fear filling her voice and causing it to rise. “I’ve already got a transparent skull! What the hell else is going to happen?!”

“We don’t know,” admitted Lincoln, gently laying a hand on her shoulder, “but I promise it’ll be alright. We’ll help you adjust and get you to a place where you’ll be safe among others who are like us.”

Taking a deep breath, Desidera nodded slowly, opening her mouth to speak. The sound of a fist banging on her door cut her off though and brought Daisy to her feet. It wasn’t a friendly fist either; it was harsh pounding that couldn’t be mistaken for anything other than aggravated and tense.

“Desidera, you okay in there?” shouted a rough male voice, edged in promises of violence.

“I’m fine!” shouted back Desidera, her voice tensing as she glanced fearfully up at Lincoln. His shoulders tensed as well and he nodded at Daisy, who’s hand immediately went to her hip where her gun rested.

The doorknob rattled then, indicating this man was clearly hell-bent on getting inside. “Dessie, open this door!”

“I’m fine Jakobs,” repeated Desidera, backing away from the door slightly and pulling open a drawer beside her couch. She pulled a snub-nosed revolver from inside, flipping off its safety and keeping the gun in hand. “Just got a little excited!”

For a moment, the noise stopped and it seemed the man had left. Then half a second later, the door crumpled in front of them, leaving a big, biker man standing in the doorway. A baseball bat hung in his hand and to say he was a wall of muscle was an underestimate. Almost immediately, his eyes swept to Desidera. It was practically visible when his vision went red.

“The hell is wrong with your head, Dessie,” snarled the man, stalking his way towards the woman. She didn’t hesitate to raise her gun, leaving the muzzle with surprising stable hands. “You one of those freaks now? The powered people that’re gonna destroy us all?”

“No one is going to destroy anyone here,” spoke up Daisy, stepping forward a little and trying to draw the man’s attention onto her. “No one is going to get hurt here, either. Not if you walk away.”

“Walk away?” asked the man with a snarl. “I ain’t walkin’ away. This here is my apartment building, you see? And I don’t want some super-powered freak living here. Don’t wanna be responsible for any runnin’ around either. You people are abominations and I ain’t gonna let you get away.”

Daisy shrugged then, lowering her gun. “Fine.” Without warning, she raised her hand, palm down towards the floor. The ground beneath their feet began to quake almost immediately, sending the wall of a man flying backwards into the couch against the wall. He groaned as he hit, but otherwise didn’t appear to be severely injured.

Lincoln didn’t pause, grabbing Desidera’s hand and pulling her towards the door as Daisy followed them out. Desidera shouted slightly as Lincoln pulled her along, but she didn’t fight them either. Instead, she got her feet under her amazingly well as Lincoln made a dash towards the stairs.

They skidded to a stop at the top however, Lincoln cursing as he did. Four men of equal size to the first stood at the bottom, all either sitting on or standing around the SUV that should have been their getaway vehicle. Daisy nearly ran into them, cursing as she spotted the group as well.

“Is there another stairway?” asked Daisy as she pulled Lincoln and Desidera back into the stairwell, starting down the hallway in the opposite direction.

“At the other end of the hall,” confirmed Desidera as they heard the men scrambling after them.

“I really hope SHIELD can afford to replace another vehicle,” remarked Lincoln as they skidded around a corner.

“They do,” confirmed Daisy, bolting ahead.

Two more men stood in this hallway, but Daisy didn’t hesitate to blast them out of their way. She led both Lincoln and Desidera around and over the men, darting to the stairwell and barreling down it.

“How many people are in Jakob’s group?” asked Daisy as she paused near the base of the stairs, scanning the area for more hostiles.

“Maybe thirty?” suggested Desidera as she paused as well to catch her breath. “I’m not sure. They might not all be here.”

“We shouldn’t assume that,” pointed out Lincoln, glancing at Daisy. “We need to find a way to get out of here.”

“Well our car is back there, so unless you have a better option-” started Daisy, only to be interrupted when a gunshot suddenly echoed in the area.

Immediately, Daisy grabbed Lincoln and Desidera, dragging them behind her and focusing on where the gunshot had originated from. Ten men stepped out, all armed with shot guns and rifles and all looking hostile.

“There they are,” shouted the voice of Jakob’s just before he stumbled into view rubbing his head. “Get ‘em.”

The guns almost all rose at once and Daisy grounded herself, prepared to block the bullets. She never had to though. Half a second later, a large rock came flying from the left and barreled into the men closest to it. Almost immediately the men scattered, shouting. Half a second later, a gorilla like creature suddenly dropped onto the group, throwing men left and right. The mob tried to gather their wits and many reaching for their weapons only to have the weapons become snakes before their eyes.

“Are you guys alright?” asked a female voice, a woman appearing behind them suddenly. She had long, dark hair and very pale eyes set into darker skin.

“We’re alright,” confirmed Daisy, eying the woman who offered them smile before darting past them with a gesture for them to follow.

Daisy and Lincoln momentarily exchanged a look before following, Lincoln still leading Desidera along. The new woman lead them towards an alley, darting down it with marked ease. Daisy, Lincoln, and Desidera followed, Daisy only pausing slightly when she heard banging behind them. However, it was only the men who’d intervened before running behind them.

The group wove through what felt like endless alleys and streets for several minutes before finally ending in a large, abandoned parking lot save for one black SUV. There, the woman slowed and finally stopped, breathing hard and turning to the group with an apologetic smile.

“Sorry for the run, but I thought it might be better if we escaped the situation rather than attempted to talk while there,” apologized the woman. Then, almost as an afterthought, she added: “I am Kurani.”

“Daisy,” introduced Daisy, gesturing to herself then Lincoln. “This is Lincoln.”

“Devlor,” introduced the gorilla-looking man, his body slowly appearing to shrink before them.

“Payne,” added the man who had thrown the rock.

“Are you alright?’ asked Kurani, tilting her head slightly as she looked them over. “I hope we arrived quickly enough.”

“I think we’re fine,” stated Lincoln, glancing at Daisy curiously.

She nodded in response, eying the group of three. “Where did you guys come from anyway?”

“We were sent by our boss to assist Desidera,” explained Kurani, gesturing to the woman in question. “Ava, our hacker friend, saw her distress call and we were dispatched to handle the matter.”

“You’re working with Ava?” asked Daisy, her curiosity piqued.

Kurani nodded, tilting her head a little curiously. “You said your name was Daisy, correct?”

“Yeah,” confirmed Daisy, pausing momentarily before adding: “but I used to go by Skye.”

Recognition crossed Kurani, Devlor, and Payne’s faces.

“You’re the Inhuman woman working for SHIELD,” spoke up Payne, nodding his head slightly. “We were told about you.”

“Told what about me,” demanded Daisy suspiciously, her body shifting into a defensive position.

“We were told to keep you safe,” assured Kurani, as if she could sense Skye’s suspicion. “Don’t worry.”

“Who’s your boss?” asked Daisy suspiciously.

Kurani just gave them an innocent smile though. “He is of like mind and body.”

Behind her, the van suddenly started. As if that were some signal, she turned to Desidera. “We would like it if you would join us, but if you would prefer to go with Skye and Lincoln right now, we will understand.”

“Daisy,” corrected Daisy with a slightly irritated tone. “It’s Daisy.”

Kurani nodded slowly, as if she were committing the comment to memory. “Daisy then. If you would prefer to go with Daisy, we understand.”

“I, uh…” Desidera glanced between Kurani and Daisy for a moment, as if she weren’t sure what she wanted to do. “Lincoln said they could help finish my transformation?”

“Then it may be best if you go with them,” stated Kurani with a nod. “We are not in the business of guiding those who are new. We are working to protect those who are under threat.”

Desidera nodded slowly, glancing between Daisy and Kurani again before stepping towards Kurani. “Look, I’m a private detective. I’ve fought through worse than this. I need to get my bearings, but eventually I’d like to step up and join you.”

“Our team is looking to protect people, too!” objected Daisy, stepping forward angrily. “We’re working just as hard to keep people safe.”

“Under SHIELD’s supervision,” remarked Kurani with a cocked eyebrow. “They do not care about us beyond our worth as weapons. I would prefer my current boss to one who doesn’t understand what it means to be different.” Holding her hand out to Desidera, she offered the woman a smile. “Welcome. Please, come. We need to return.”

Daisy opened her mouth like she wanted to object, but Lincoln grabbed her arm to stop her. He shot her a look that said not to fight it and pulled her away.

“Come on Daisy, let’s see about getting our SUV back,” encouraged Lincoln as he started leading her back towards the apartment complex.

Behind them, she heard the van open as people stepped in but did her best to follow Lincoln’s lead. As much as she hated to admit it, he was right. They couldn’t force Desidera to join them; all they could do was work to keep her and others like her safe.

A roar overhead caught Daisy’s attention, prompting her to look up in an attempt to figure out where the noise was coming from. Behind them, she heard the van speed off and, half a second later, another quinjet uncloaked over their head. It spun slowly for a moment before sitting down behind them. A moment later, the ramp dropped and Hunter offered them a smile from the top.

“Need a lift?” he called out, waving at them a bit.

Daisy and Lincoln exchanged looks then before shrugging, climbing onto the ramp. Hunter helped pull them inside then before the ramp shut and the jet flew away.

---------------------------------------------------

-The Playground-

Spinning the map of Dallas around slowly, Simmons watched from a satellite view as the group of Inhumans climbed into their van before speeding off. In a notebook, she made a note of what she’d seen, closing it a moment later before collecting her things and leaving the command room.

Chapter Text

-Episode 3-

-Boca Caliente-

A man dressed in construction gear with a hard-hat tucked beneath his arm strolled calmly down the darkened hallway. The grid-like floor echoed with every step as he moved further and further into the hall carved. Carved stone walls rose on either side, illuminated by bright florescent lights hung in the ceiling. His steps ceased as he reached a wooden door, knocking once before being commanded to enter. Stepping into a lush office, the man removed his construction hat to reveal thick hair and produced a tablet while approaching the desk in the middle of the room.

Ian Quinn glanced up from behind his desk as soon as the man entered, offering a smile as he gestured towards the tablet in the man’s hands. “Eric, how’s the work progressing?”

“We have power to levels 5 through 7 and the equipment has been installed,” informed Eric, handing the tablet to Quinn. There was a rigidity to him that spoke of both professionalism and years of experience working with clients. “Everything appears functional in those sectors.”

“Excellent,” stated Quinn with a smirk as he took the tablet and began scrolling through the data there. “It looks like we’re ahead of schedule. Well done.”

“Thank you, sir,” replied Eric as Quinn hit a few buttons on the tablet and passed it back. “Should we focus on Sector 3 now?”

“You remembered, good man,” applauded Quinn with a nod, his hands folding in his lap. “Focus on Sector 3 next. I’d like to get our physics department up and running. Also, send Garth up if you see him. I have a job for him.”

“Yes sir,” agreed Eric before he headed for the door again.

Quinn turned away again as soon as Eric was gone, standing from his desk and heading to a table against the far wall. A floating, 3 dimensional rendering was projected just above the desk. An image of an island hovered just above the table, rising with an upward swipe of Quinn’s fingers to reveal large networks of tunnels and rooms spreading out beneath the island. They stretched into the ocean, some clearly resting on the sea floor while others were contained beneath the island’s bedrock itself. Tapping the diagram in several places, multiple levels of the diagram positioned in the center of the network lit up yellow, joining a large number of other, scattered areas. Smirking, Quinn spun the diagram a quarter of the way to the left, then circled an area with his fingers. Immediately, the rest of the design fell away so only that circled area remained.

“Sector 3,” murmured Quinn with a grin. “Oh, what wonders you’ll bring the world.”

----------------------------------------

-The Playground-

Bobbi leaned back a little in her chair, pursing her lips slightly as she stared at the information laid out before her. Her fingers danced over a few more keys before she let out a frustrated sigh and stood, grabbing the laptop and heading out of her bunk. She zigzagged through the halls until she reached Hunter’s supposed office. It was more like a broom closet, but he’d claimed it as his and no one had argued with him on the matter.

“Lance?” called Bobbi, knocking slightly at the door as she pushed it open. “You in?”

“Give me a minute Bob!” called back Hunter. It was followed by the sound of frantic scrambling that had Bobbi rolling her eyes as she pushed the door open further.

“Seriously Hunter?” asked Bobbi in disbelief as she stepped inside. “It isn’t like I haven’t caught you watching porn before.”

Immediately, the monitor flashed off and Hunter was spinning to face her looking more than a little uneasy. “Porn, right. That was porn.”

Bobbi’s eyes narrowed suspiciously, moving from the monitor to Hunter. “Lance…”

“It’s nothing Bob,” cut off Hunter, offering her a tired smile. “Coulson asked me to look into something, that’s all.” Glancing at the computer she was holding, he nodded at it. “Did you find something?”

Glaring slightly at him, Bobbi set her computer on the table and flipped open the lid. Multiple windows were open, displaying a wide range of data. “I think I found how they smuggled the equipment out of the country.”

“Out of the country?” repeated Hunter, raising an eyebrow. “Are we sure it isn’t still here?”

“It doesn’t seem like it,” stated Bobbi as she clicked on another screen. “I tracked the equipment to several carrier ships, but I’m having trouble figuring out where the cargo was unloaded. It looks like it just disappears between leaving the US and docking in the first port on the manifest.”

“Do you think they’re making an unlisted stop?” suggested Hunter, tapping his fingers a little against his chair arm and swiveling a bit.

“There aren’t a lot of places they could stop unless they’re unloading this stuff in the middle of the ocean,” explained Bobbi as she stared at the list of equipment as if it might bend if she tried hard enough. “I just can’t figure out what someone would be using this stuff for.”

“Maybe it’s being broken up and shipped to various buyers,” suggested Hunter as he clicked through a list of ships on the screen. “Do we have shipping paths for any of these boats?”

“None of them cross through the same area,” replied Bobbi with a frustrated sigh as she opened a second window displaying several lines across the Atlantic, none of which crossed or even went less than a hundred miles near each other. “I had the same thought.” Watching Hunter for a moment, she appeared to zone out momentarily before letting out a frustrated groan. “I feel like, if we could just figure out what someone would want with all this equipment, we could figure out who was responsible for this.”

“You and me both, Bob,” agreed Hunter with his own frustrated huff. “Unfortunately, I think the only way we’re going to figure that out is if we find a piece of the stolen equipment.”

“Which we can’t do unless we can figure out where it’s going,” muttered Bobbi, shoving her hand through her hair. “What if we went out and followed the shipping paths?”

“What do you mean?” asked Hunter wearily, eyeing Bobbi slightly. It was pretty clear from the look he shot her that he knew exactly what she was trying to do. “I don’t know if you going in the field is a good idea.”

“It’s reconnaissance,” stated Bobbi, tapping a spot on the shipping map. It was the only area where the shipping lines really came near each other. There was easily a hundred miles between the lines, but it was the closest clustering. “The only similarity in their paths is this point. It’s possible there’s some kind of a mobile drop-off point in that area.”

“That could be worse,” remarked Hunter, gesturing to the area she’d pointed at, namely the open ocean around it. “We don’t know what’s out there.”

“Yeah, I know,” confirmed Bobbi, raising an eyebrow like she thought he was dense. “That’s why we should go check it out.” Clapping him on the back, she straightened and stretched. “C’mon Hunter, let’s go see what’s out there.”

“We don’t know there’s anything there,” pointed out Hunter, his brow furrowing as Bobbi turned and started towards the doors. “It might not be safe, Bob.”

“So we take the Quinjet and cloak it,” countered Bobbi with a shrug, pulling open the door again and cocking an eyebrow at Hunter from over her shoulder. “Look, are you coming or am I doing this alone?”

Hunter’s lips compressed into an unhappy line, but he stood and followed Bobbi to the door all the same. “I don’t like this.”

“Your objection is noted,” assured Bobbi with a roll of her eyes, turning into the hall. “Now come on, let’s go see if we can figure out where the new Bermuda Triangle is.”

------------------------------------

Growling slightly, Fitz slapped his palm against the brick wall beside him, glaring at the open box he was currently half leaning on along the right wall of the engineering lab. That he was irritated was apparent; the look on his face couldn’t be mistaken for anything else.

“Turbo?” Mack’s curious voice cut through the room half a second before the large man himself stepped in. “What’s going on in here?”

“Uh, nothing!” called Fitz, cursing faintly as he quickly closed the box and tried to rapidly cross to the room to where his lab bench was. However, he never made it away from the box; Mack was already behind him when he turned around.

The large engineer cocked an eyebrow at Fitz curiously, tilting his head a little. “What’s going on Turbo?”

“I was just looking for….um....my screwdriver for Simmons?” tried Fitz, giving Mack a hopeful look. The disbelieving look Mack gave him just reinforced the fact Fitz was a terrible liar. Cringing slightly, Fitz turned back to the box he’d had open before in defeat and opened it again so he could continue looking through its contents. “Weaver is making Daisy nervous. She thinks the woman might do something stupid.”

“Weaver isn’t exactly rash,” pointed out Mack. He shifted behind Fitz, stepping around to rest a hand on Fitz’s shoulder and giving him a hard look. “What’s going on with Daisy?”

Compressing his lips, Fitz turned completely towards Mack, shifting a bit. “Daisy wants to set up a computer network outside S.H.I.E.L.D., so only she and Lincoln can see the Inhuman work they’re doing. It’s a safety thing so no one gets the data without her permission and uses it.”

“She thinks Weaver might target the Inhumans she’s finding,” surmised Mack with a frown, his brow furrowing.

“She’s just worried about her people,” defended Fitz, his shoulders tensing as a scowl curled over his face. “I would be, too.”

Sighing, Mack rubbing his head a bit and then reached up to lift down a box well over Fitz’s head. “Weaver isn’t stupid or rash, but she’s not the most level-headed person when it comes to Inhumans either. Much as I want to say Weaver would never to anything to hurt them, I can’t.”

“Isn’t Weaver your friend though?” prompted Fitz uneasily, his eyes narrowing somewhat suspiciously at Mack.

Mack just shrugged in return, carefully setting the box on the ground and lifting another down beside it. “This Weaver is different from the woman who used to teach at the Academy. I mean, I get why, but I’m not sure she’s as rational as she was before. At least, not about this.” Sighing, he leaned slightly on the box he’d lifted down, leveling his gaze at Fitz.

Mack smirked a little at Fitz, opening the box and pulling some server drives out of it. “I’m saying we’d better make sure Daisy has everything she needs for this system. Wouldn’t do for someone else to get ahold of the information she’s trying to keep safe just because Weaver made her nervous enough to move.”

---------------------------------------

Clicking a few more keys, Lincoln hit send on the email and leaned back, rubbing his eyes a little. A heavy frown rested on his face, covered by his hand. Idly, he began clicking through documents on the computer, eyes scanning the screen without seeing what was actually there. However, the sound of a door opening caused him to break free of his thoughts. Immediately, he straightened in his seat, rapidly closing windows as he listened to someone enter the room.

“Sorry Daisy, I don’t have any leads yet,” apologized Lincoln, turning towards the door. However, Coulson stood in the doorway instead- not Daisy. “Oh. Coulson.”

“Yes, oh,” agreed Coulson, his voice calm. There was a look to his eyes though; they were sharper than normal, like he knew something Lincoln didn’t.

“Uh, Daisy isn’t here,” stated Lincoln, leaning back a little in his chair. “Honestly, I thought you were her. She’s supposed to come back any minute if you want to wait.”

“Daisy isn’t the one I need to speak with,” stated Coulson as he crossed the room to stand directly behind Lincoln and forcing the inhuman to crane his neck to meet the man’s eyes. “You are.”

“Me?” questioned Lincoln, his brow furrowing even as his fingers twitched slightly. “What do you need me for? Is Daisy alright?”

“Daisy is fine, as far as I know,” replied Coulson, eyes narrowing onto Lincoln. “My issue is with you and your apparent disregard for the seniority of my people.”

Lincoln’s brow furrowed further, his fingers stilling as he stared up at the Director in confusion. “Wait, what?”

“Agent May told you to wait for her and Hunter,” stated Coulson calmly, though a slight clenching of his jaw indicated how angry about that he truly was, “yet you and Daisy proceeded to leave the hanger and contact the Inhuman woman anyway.” His voice rose a little as he continued, his anger clearly beginning to get the better of him.

“She told you to stay put because there was evidence of trouble in the area and I would understand if Sky-” he paused momentarily, taking a deep breath to compose himself; his voice was far calmer when he began speaking again. “If Daisy blatantly disregarded that order, then I wouldn’t be surprised. However, she said you never relayed that part of Agent May’s message. Though she readily admitted that she would have probably left anyway, the fact that she didn’t receive the order to begin with is problematic. It indicates you don’t respect Agent May’s authority.” Glaring down at the inhuman, Coulson stepped forward to lean on the desk beside where Lincoln was sitting, folding his arms over his chest as he did so. “I know you aren’t a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, but as long as you work with Daisy, you will respect our chain of command. I’m not going to let her get hurt because you don’t want to follow our orders.”

“I’m not going to let her get hurt either,” stated Lincoln, his eyes narrowing slightly at the Director, “but Desidera was in trouble. There was an anti-Inhuman hate group in the area and her online messages suggested that she had sustained some physical deformation from her transformation. We couldn’t just sit there and twiddle our thumbs while we waited for them to arrive. We didn’t know how safe she was, if anyone knew she was an Inhuman yet, any of it. Her life was in serious jeopardy and we needed to act.”

“What you needed was backup,” stated Coulson, his eyes narrowing at Lincoln. “Being chased by an angry mob of xenophobes is something we try to avoid, particularly when they are angry and armed.”

“Inhumans have been taking care of their own kind for hundreds of years,” countered Lincoln as he pushed out of his chair. “That was not the first angry mob I’ve ever seen and it won’t be the last. Daisy and I can handle a group of angry, ignorant men. I’m more worried about the damage ignorant people masquerading as friends could cause.”

“We’re all friends here, Lincoln,” stated Coulson, his voice dropping dangerously low as he calmly straightened up, “and I don’t want to hear you imply anything else to anyone. Got it?”

“Yes, sir,” growled Lincoln, his voice a touch mocking.

Coulson didn’t remark on that though, just headed for the door with a nod and calm stride. He paused once there however, glancing back at the young man. “And Lincoln? If I find out you’ve failed to relay information from another S.H.I.E.L.D. member to Daisy again, you will never step foot near her or this base for the rest of your life.” Then he was gone.

As soon as Coulson left the room, Lincoln let a bolt of electricity go towards one of the empty walls. It exploded on impact, leaving a dark burn pattern splattered across the spot. He was practically vibrating with anger as he stood there, staring at the scorch mark. It was a moment before he took a deep breath and returned to his seat, reopening the windows from before and beginning to, once again, scroll through the information on his screen.

--------------------------------

Humming slightly, Simmons leaned back from her microscope, her lips pursing as she shifted to make some notes on a clipboard beside her. Her eyes darted across the attached papers, fingers lifting some pages to check the ones beneath; her lips moved slightly as she did, mouthing words without speaking. Idly, her fingers drummed against the counter momentarily before freezing. Like a switch being flipped, her eyes went vacant, hands curling into fists against the table. Her nails bit into her hands hard, eyes closing and shoulders tensing. She just stood like that for a moment, frozen in that stance save the faint tremor of her shoulders.

“Simmons?” called Bobbi, the door to the lab creaking open.

Simmons’ eyes snapped open again immediately, wide and terrified. Then she blinked and her eyes were back to normal, shoulders relaxing as she straightened up and pushed away from the table, turning to face Bobbi with a smile. “Hello Bobbi! I thought you were going to be out for a bit?”

“Hunter and I are heading out shortly to see if we can find the transport point for the stolen equipment,” confirmed Bobbi, crossing the room to pull an inhaler from the draw in her desk. “Just wanted to make sure you didn’t need anything from me before I leave.”

“And collecting your medication,” added Simmons, nodding at the inhaler.

Bobbi made a face at the small device but pocketed it all the same. “I’m pretty sure it’s overkill.”

“I would rather you carry it as a safety precaution,” stated Simmons as her arms folded in her classic doctor’s pose. “We’ve had this discussion before.”

“And I’m taking it with me,” reminded Bobbi with a faint smirk. “That doesn’t change the fact that I don’t think I need it.”

“Your objection has been noted,” assured Simmons with a faint roll of her eyes. Crossing her arms over her chest, she sighed slightly and gave Bobbi a worried look. “Just be careful. Your body is still healing and I’m afraid you’re going to push yourself too hard.”

Rolling her eyes, Bobbi shot Simmons a reassuring look. “Trust me, Hunter won’t let me push myself. He’d carry me everywhere right now if I let him.”

“Which you won’t, of course,” remarked Simmons with a sigh, shaking her head. “Just be careful, please.”

Bobbi waved her hand around dismissively, approaching Simmons and offering the biologist a grin. “It’s recon, I’m pretty sure I can handle it.” Pausing, she carefully raised a hand to Simmons shoulder and gave her a gentle squeeze. “You be careful yourself. I’m worried about you, Jemma. Something is bothering you; you should discuss it with someone, me or Fitz or whoever. We’re a team and you don’t need to carry whatever this is on your own.”

“Nothing is wrong,” assured Simmons with a shake of her head, reaching up and squeezing Bobbi’s hand lightly. “I promise, I’m fine. Just tired and a touch overworked since Coulson stole my other lab partner from me.”

Laughing slightly, Bobbi nodded and dropped her hand back to her side. “I’ll be back in the lab borrowing your equipment and harassing you before you know it.” Then Bobbi turned away, heading to the lab doors.

“I’m holding you to that,” called Simmons, crossing her arms over her stomach. Bobbi just waved a little in response and walked out of the lab. As soon as the other biologist was gone, Simmons turned back to her station with a relieved sigh, returning to her seat and her work.

--------------------------------

“You’re sure we can take all of this?” asked Daisy as she eyed the pile of computer parts and cases Fitz was rapidly amassing. Half of it looked like it might not work, but some appeared pretty new, though it might not stay that way if Fitz kept piling pieces onto it. “I really don’t need all of this to set up the computer network.”

In front of her, Fitz paused halfway inside a box that apparently acted as a home for wayward computer equipment. His head popped up a little around the side a moment before he carefully righted himself, giving her an uncertain look. “You said you needed equipment.”

“Yeah, like a couple of computers, a server, a modem, and some routers,” stated Daisy, eyeing the more advanced networking equipment Fitz had thrown in. “I’m not going to be breaking into the NSA here; if I need to do that, I’ll do it from my office. I just want the ability to move our search from here to the Warehouse. I don’t need anything that advanced.”

Fitz made a face, glancing over at the technology he’d piled together. “I still think you should consider taking all of this. It would give you more options.”

Furrowing her brow, Daisy looked over the technology again, noting many pieces were identical to pieces she had in her office now, at the base. “That’s true…”

“Plus you could do everything you can do here in private,” added Mack suddenly, appearing seemingly out of nowhere with a large box in his arms.

Daisy almost jumped at his sudden appearance, spinning to face the large engineer. Her face was set in a carefully neutral state, but it was clear by the slight shake of her hands that she hadn’t heard him. “Mack, what’s up?”

“Just bringing by the old equipment I was getting ready to scrap,” stated Mack, setting the box beside Fitz’s pile. “Thought you could use it.”

Glancing at Fitz, Daisy shot him a questioning look, to which he just shrugged. “Mack runs this place. I wasn’t going to take any equipment without his permission.”

“I get it, Daisy, relax,” assured Mack, turning to Fitz’s pile and making a face. “Weaver isn’t bad and I get why she’s weary of powered people, but it’s not going to be reassuring for you and that’s fine. You and Lincoln have your jobs, we have ours. If you don’t feel comfortable keeping information on base because of people like Weaver, it’s fine. This way at least we know no one else is going to get the data either.”

“That is a concern,” pointed out Fitz as he grabbed one final thing from a box somewhere and set it in the stack. “There, this should be everything you need.”

“And then some,” muttered Daisy, eying the stack of equipment. “How am I supposed to get this stuff to the Warehouse?”

“We can take it,” offered Mack, jabbing his thumb towards a truck behind him. “Not like it’s far from here or anything.”

“It’s kinda secret though,” reminded Daisy uneasily, her lips twitching slightly in a frown. “Can you guys sneak it in?”

“There’s a back loading dock, right?” asked Mack, even as he began to move around the room gathering empty boxes. “We can just use that and leave it inside the doors. You and Lincoln can situate it however you want to from there.”

“That could work,” confirmed Daisy slowly, though she didn’t look any happier about it. “Just make sure you aren’t caught.”

“Daisy?” asked Fitz curiously, furrowing his brow slightly. “What’s wrong?”

For a moment, Daisy glanced between both Mack and Fitz. Whatever apprehension she was feeling wasn’t enough to stop her from explaining though. “I listened to Ward’s messages, the ones Coulson was hiding from me.”

“You think they’re valid?” asked Fitz almost immediately, his lips tilting into a frown.

Mack gave her an equally uncertain look, lips thinning slightly. “The man is a murderer and a traitor. Can you really trust him?”

“Something bad is going on,” stated Daisy firmly, shifting slightly. Her arms crossed over her chest as she spoke, an exasperated frown crossing her face. “I just haven’t been able to figure out what yet. These attacks against Inhumans don’t feel random though.”

“You think there’s coordination?” asked Mack curiously, as he pulled out a box and began carefully loading equipment into it.

“I think there’s funding at minimum,” corrected Daisy with an unhappy sigh. Her eyes zoned out as she spoke, like her brain was trying to see something it couldn’t. “It might even be as bad as coordination, but I think it’s more likely whoever’s supporting this just wants to cause chaos.”

“Or harm Inhumans,” pipped in Fitz as he joined Mack in loading the box. “Could be someone just doesn’t like powered people.”

“They wouldn’t be alone,” muttered Daisy with an unhappy shake of her head.

“Weaver just needs time to forget what that gifted guy did to her,” assured Mack, offering Daisy a sympathetic look. “We were all betrayed by the Hydra reveal, but some of us are taking longer to work past that betrayal than others.” Pausing, he reluctantly added: “Plus, you’ve gotta remember, Jiaying did kill Gonzales and start a small war between the Inhumans and S.H.I.E.L.D.”

Daisy’s eye twitched slightly at that remark, her gaze narrowing with a scowl. She clearly bit her tongue on whatever she wanted to say though, instead straightening up and headed for the door. “Just get the stuff to the Warehouse if we can have it. Otherwise, I’ll figure something else out.” With that, she left the room, the walls slightly vibrating as she shoved the door open.

The vibrations ceased a moment later, but Mack’s thin-lipped look spoke volumes. Fitz twitched slightly, his fingers tightening against his arms in clear anger. He didn’t speak though, just kept loading equipment into the boxes. Mack returned to doing the same and, for a while, they worked in silence.

It wasn’t until everything was safely packed that Fitz spoke up. “You shouldn’t have said that.”

“It’s kinda true, Turbo,” reminded Mack as he stacked the boxes up with a sigh. “I get that Daisy is mad about that whole thing, but it happened. She needs to remember who she’s working with here.”

“Except reminding her makes her feel like more of an outsider,” stated Fitz with a slight scowl. Running a frustrated hand through his hair, he paced slightly before speaking again. “She already feels like she doesn’t belong because everyone keeps reminding her that she isn’t human and reminding her that her mum almost caused irrevocable harm doesn’t help. Especially based on what she said Hydra did to her mum.”

“But she can’t pretend that it didn’t further Weaver’s views of the Inhumans as dangerous,” countered Mack as he set the boxes on a dolly and headed towards the trucks. “Her and Weaver aren’t gonna see eye to eye right now, and she can’t reasonably believe that Weaver is going to change her opinion any time soon.”

“Yes, but if we keep reminding her then she might leave S.H.I.E.L.D. all together,” pointed out Fitz with an unhappy frown. “I don’t want us to lose Skye because Weaver can’t separate her feels about what one powered person did to her from who Daisy is. This whole thing has been a mess for her from the beginning and no one is trying to make it easier.”

“Sometimes life ain’t easy Turbo,” stated Mack as he loaded up the boxes into a truck before turning to the engineer. “I’m not Daisy’s enemy, though. I trust her and the Inhumans at least to the extent that I believe they largely want to be left alone.” Folding up the dolly, he turned back towards the main garage, adding over his shoulder: “I’m not the one she needs to convince though.”

Fitz didn’t follow though or even respond. Instead, he immediately turned towards the exit into the main base, half running and half storming from the room and out into the halls.

---------------------------------------

Opening the door to Coulson’s office, Hunter paused in the entryway blinking slightly in surprise. May was sitting in the room, staring off at something Hunter couldn’t see. Her eyes were almost unfocused and her fingers idly circled the rim of a glass that might have at one point contained something alcoholic.

Hunter’s eyebrow rose slightly in disbelief as he took in the scene in front of him. “I expected to find Coulson drowning his sorrows in his office, not you.”

May didn’t even twitch in surprise, just smirked slightly, almost disbelievingly, and stood from the couch. “Coulson has better bourbon than I do. Why are you here?”

“Bobbi and I are heading out to do some recon,” explained Hunter, glancing at the woman wearily. His eyes darted again to the glass before he carefully approached May, hands jammed in his jacket pockets. “So, what’s got you hitting the bottle before sign off?”

May shot him an annoyed glance before picking up the glass and crossing towards a cabinet. “Nothing.”

“Does it have to do with Flower and Sparky ignoring the hold order?” asked Hunter, nodding at the glass and bottle even as she put them away.

May glanced at the tumbler where it now sat in the cabinet, her gaze turning a little hard. “Just thinking.”

Pausing, Hunter considered the senior agent before moving to sit on the edge of the coffee table. His fingers laced together, arms bracing on his legs. “I know that face. You’re having second thoughts.”

“I’m fine,” stated May, closing the cabinet a little harder than necessary. “I was thinking, something Bobbi says you need to do more of.”

“I think when I need to,” dismissed Hunter with a wave of his hand, propping his foot on his knee casually and tossing an arm over the back of the couch. “Besides, I’m more interested in what you were thinking about.”

“I’m thinking about how much I want to punch you right now,” stated May with a slight growl, clearly done with this conversation.

Hunter opened his mouth to say more, maybe to argue even, but whatever he was going to say was silenced by the door to the office opening once more as Coulson strode inside. The Director paused almost immediately, cocking an eyebrow at the sight before him momentarily. His gaze moved from May to Hunter and back again, giving his right-hand a curious look. “I’m a little disappointed I wasn’t invited to a party being held in my office.”

“Hunter was just stopping by to let us know he’s leaving with Bobbi to scout out a potential lead on the missing equipment,” stated May, straightening completely and shooting a warning look at Hunter.

Immediately, the merc clapped his hands against his legs and stood, nodding almost rapidly. “That’s exactly right. Bob and I are going to grab a jet and scout a spot over the ocean where we think the equipment may be getting dropped.”

“Why the ocean?” asked Coulson curiously, furrowing his brow slightly as he crossed to his desk and deposited a file on top of it.

“Bob found records of the equipment being loaded on shipping containers but it’s always gone by the time the containers reach their destinations,” explained Hunter with a shrug. “Way she sees it, someone is dropping it off along the way. We’re going to see if we can figure out where.”

“Could be anywhere along the shore, too,” pointed out May, her own lips pressing into a thin line. “You should talk to the crewmembers of the ships as well. They might know something.”

“I’ll look into it on my own,” confirmed Hunter, nodding a bit as he headed for the door. “We’ll keep you posted.”

“Check in every hour,” ordered Coulson as he dropped into his chair. “I don’t want you two disappearing on us. Not after what happened before.”

“Believe me, Coulson, I’m not letting Bobbi out of my sight,” stated Hunter before he stepped out of the room, leaving Coulson and May behind.

As soon as he was gone, Coulson’s shoulders relaxed slightly, his attention turning to May. “Do you think they’ll actually find anything?”

May just shrugged. “Someone is moving that equipment around under our noses. The middle of the ocean is a good place to hide something.”

Nodding, Coulson spun a little in his chair momentarily before leaning forward suddenly. “Something is on your mind.”

The put-upon look May shot him said this topic had clearly already been discussed. However, she crossed to his desk all the same and dropped into one of the chairs there. Leaning forward a little, elbows braced on her knees, she levelled an uncertain look at Coulson. “We need to discuss my place in S.H.I.E.L.D.”

----------------------------------------

-The Atlantic Ocean-

“See anything, Bob?” asked Hunter as he carefully guided the jet thirty feet above the ocean’s surface. His hands worked to carefully hold the plane steady, fingers gripping the controls tightly enough to turn his knuckles white.

“Just a lot of ocean,” stated Bobbi over a comm line, her voice somewhat distorted by the sound of rushing wind. That same windy sound echoed through the whole jet, directly related to the open cargo door Bobbi was currently leaning out of with a rope around her waist to secure her to the jet.

“Maybe we should turn back,” suggested Hunter as his eyes danced over the scanners in front of him. They registered absolutely nothing appearing below the water either. “The ocean looks empty. Whatever they’re doing, it’s probably only happening when a cargo shipment is coming through.”

Bobbi’s frustrated groan could just be heard over the comm line, though it was cut off rather abruptly by a muttered ‘what the hell?’.

“Bobbi?” called back Hunter with a slight edge to his voice. Without thought, he glanced back towards the open cargo bay door, trying to determine if something was wrong without leaving the pilot’s seat.

There was a scrambling sound a moment later followed by Bobbi’s sudden appearance in the cockpit. Hunter jumped a little, immediately on high alert as his ex-wife jostled her way into the copilot’s seat and pulled up a map of the area.

“Um, not that I don’t appreciate your company love, but do you want to tell me why you just ran in here like a frantic bird?” asked Hunter with a faint yelp, rapidly righting the ship as it began to tilt due to his distraction.

Bobbi didn’t really respond so much as hum before she pulled a tablet out of the seat pocket and began rapidly hitting buttons. “There’s an oil field to our left.”

“Alright,” stated Hunter slowly, one of his eyebrows rising in question. “And this is significant because…”

“Because there’s no oil fields listed as being this far out,” stated Bobbi, tapping the tablet slightly before flipping it around and half shoving it in Hunter’s face. “Look, the closest oil field to this location should be about 40 miles back along the Atlantic shoreline. The ocean shelf out here is too deep for drilling.”

“So maybe you saw a mirage,” suggested Hunter as he began to turn the jet towards the left. “Or maybe Bermuda decided to begin oil drilling operations.”

“There were also only five rigs,” continued Bobbi, taking back her tablet and setting it aside before typing a set of navigation coordinates into the computer. “We need to check it out, Hunter. This could be important.”

“It could also just be an oil field,” pointed out Hunter, though he made the coordinate adjustments to do as Bobbi said. Bobbi smirked a little as he turned the plane towards what she’d seen, but otherwise said nothing.

“Except I just checked- there’s no registered oil fields out here,” stated Bobbi, shifting in her chair to get a better look out the window.

Hunter’s brow furrowed slightly, his eyes narrowing a little. “Maybe Bermuda decided to start drilling oil and didn’t tell anyone?”

“Right,” scoffed Bobbi, waving her hand a little as she leaned forward some to check one of the scanners. “Because they could get away with building big oil rigs without being caught.”

“Are they big oil rigs?” challenged Hunter, throwing a sidelong glance at his partner. She didn’t exactly turn to meet his eyes, remaining resolutely focused on the scanner in front of her. “Bob…”

“I couldn’t tell,” admitted Bobbi with a huff, glaring at him slightly out of the corner of her eye. “Look, it’s recon, right? We’ll fly overhead and just see what’s going on. If they don’t look like oil rigs, we call it in. If they do, we go home. Deal?”

“I doubt you will let us just go home,” muttered Hunter, double checking they were, in fact, cloaked. “We’d better not get shot down, otherwise I’m going to be cross with you.”

“Noted,” muttered Bobbi, her attention fully forward now as they approached the rigs. Her brow furrowed slightly the closer they got, her lips thinning until, finally, she spoke again. “I don’t think those are oil rigs.”

“They don’t look like any I’ve seen,” confirmed Hunter, his lips thinning.

The structures rising from the water in front of them didn’t really resemble oil rigs so much as large cement platforms with huge columns through the middle. From a distance, the structures strongly resembled an oil rig, but this close it was clear they weren’t. In fact, this close, they didn’t look anything like oil rigs. The platforms sat too low and more resembled landing pads than drilling platforms. Similarly, the skeletal structure was narrower than a rig would have been, the central column was comprised of one long tube that didn’t rise particularly far off the landing pad. In all honesty, the structure looked like it might have been built out of pieces of an old oil rig without having been constructed to function like a rig. There was a mark on the side of the rig, too- a crossing pair of ‘x’s inside of a circle that suggested the rig (or at least parts of it) might have once belonged to Roxxon.

“Could it be a deep-sea mining rig?” suggested Hunter as he maneuvered the jet closer to the platform, but staying far enough away that they wouldn’t generate a downdraft that could give their presence away.

“Never seen a deep-sea mining rig that looked like that,” muttered Bobbi, shaking her head slowly. “Not unless the facility is…” Suddenly, she turned back to the radar, hitting a few buttons to adjust the frequency of the system.

“Not unless the facility is what?” asked Hunter, glancing over at Bobbi curiously. “What are you thinking?”

“Underwater,” muttered Bobbi, leaning back with a sigh and faint grin. “The facility is underwater.”

“Bob, are you sure-” started Hunter uncertainly, glancing at his ex-wife like she might be losing her mind.

She cut him off with a wave of her hand though, pointing at the radar image on the screen instead. Sure enough, he could make out what appeared to be a rather large shape on the screen. They couldn’t see it well - the jet wasn’t equipped with powerful enough sonar to map what was down there. Something large was beneath the surface though, and it didn’t look natural.

“We should investigate,” remarked Bobbi, staring down at the rig-like structures. “Find out what’s going on.”

“No, we should report back to Coulson and let a recon team handle this,” corrected Hunter, already reaching for the comm system. Bobbi’s hand on his wrist stopped him though, and when he glanced at her, he was met with a pleading look.

“I meant we should land on one of the rigs and take a look around,” corrected Bobbi, glancing back at the rigs suspiciously. “I mean, what are we going to tell Coulson, ‘we spotted some weird looking oil rigs in the middle of the Atlantic and we think they might be something but we don’t know’? He’ll never take that seriously.”

“Coming from us, he will take it very seriously,” objected Lance firmly, glancing at Bobbi like he thought she was crazy. “We aren’t rookies, Bob. We’ve seen these things blow up before.”

“And what’s Coulson going to do?” continued Bobbi with a challenging look. “Scramble to assemble a strike team we don’t have the people for in order to hit a facility we don’t actually know is dangerous?”

Lance’s lips thinned as he glared at Bobbi, even as he checked the cloaking on the ship. “I will go down there. You will stay here and radio Coulson.”

“No, I’ll go,” countered Bobbi, her arms crossing her chest as she let out a huff. “I can handle recon, Lance. We don’t even see any signs of people on the surface.”

“That doesn’t mean there aren’t cameras or a slew of other threats, Bob,” insisted Lance, his eyes narrowing on Bobbi even as he flipped the jet around to hover near the platform. He checked once more to make sure the jet’s cloaking was activated before standing and headed for the cockpit exit. “I’ll go down there, alone, and poke around. And if I find anything suspicious, I’ll radio and you can call Coulson.”

“Like hell you’re going down there by yourself,” growled Bobbi, her patience clearly wearing thin. “I’m not going to be doing backflips off boxes and diving into the ocean from the platform. I’ve been working on things in the gym; I can handle this.”

“Until Simmons clears you for duty-” started Hunter, only for Bobbi to wave her hand and cut him off.

“Simmons should have already cleared me,” stated Bobbi firmly, her shoulders tense as she popped up from her seat. Her eyes locked on with Hunters, attempting to stare him down. He didn’t budge though, folding his arms across his chest and glaring at her.

They kept up the staring contest for about a minute, eyes locked together and bodies ridged until Bobbi finally spoke again. Her words were firm, even as her shoulders dropped slightly. “I’m fine, Lance.”

“Except you aren’t, Bobbi,” countered Lance, though he let some of the edge fade from his voice. “You were shot, several times. There was damage to your lungs. I know you’ve been working around it, but I don’t want you in danger. Getting you killed is not the plan.”

“But I’m not going to get killed,” assured Bobbi, sighing a little in frustration. “How am I going to get killed walking around a deserted platform?”

“What happens if someone comes up?” asked Hunter, his voice worried. “Or what if someone sees us and tries to stop us?”

“Then we take them out and escape,” answered Bobbi, as if it were the most rational thing in the world. Stepping away a little, she let one hand drop to the baton at her side. “I can still fight; I’ve made sure of that. Yeah, running a mile is probably out of the question, but dropping some bad guys isn’t.” Gesturing out the front window towards the platform, she added: “That platform down there isn’t a mile long. I think I can handle myself on it.”

Hunter’s shoulders tensed, clearly prepared to argue or attempt to refute her claim. It also foreshadowed his attempts to talk her down further, to argue or convince her somehow that it wasn’t a good idea.

Before he could respond however, the quinjet lurched hard to the right, throwing both agents to the ground. The whole ship tilted with the motion, sending them tumbling into the side of the jet rather violently. A second jolt and tilt rolled the ship to the right and sent both Bobbi and Hunter flying before they could even begin to stand. All Hunter could do was grab Bobbi and try to shield her from colliding with the unforgiving steel of the jet. His back slammed painfully into the wall a moment later, followed by Bobbi’s body landing on top of him. At least he’d broken her fall.

Bobbi was the first to recover, scrambling to her feet for half a second before she again crashed into the ground as the jet began a shaky and forceful descent. It continued to rock the ship for several minutes as the jet fought whatever was attempting to force it to the ground. The motion and jolting was too violent for either Hunter or Bobbi to manage to stand.

None the less, Hunter attempted to scramble to the ship’s controls. He’d barely made it to the cockpit door when an explosion raing out, followed by a screeching crack as the egines of the ship suddenly gave out. He grabbed onto the doorway of the cockpit, shouting for Bobbi as the jet went into freefall for a few terrifying seconds before slamming into the ground and throwing him forward into the control console for the jet.

Hunter’s vision swam as he attempted to hold onto consciousness, lifting his head as best he could in search of Bobbi. He spotted a few tendrils of her hair through the doorway, watched as they shifted as her groan echoed through the ship. It was a relieve that lasted for only a few seconds as a second screeching sound echoed from somewhere near the jet’s bay door. His vision swam hard as the noise hit his ears before it gave out altogether, his mind falling into darkness a moment later as his body collapsed forward and he lost consciousness.

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-Playground-

Coulson drummed his fingers against the desk, eyes locked on the phone in front of him. The device did nothing though, simply sat there to the clear annoyance of the S.H.I.E.L.D. director. Pausing his drumming, he reached for the phone, only to curl his fingers into a fist and retract his hand. Clear frustration crossed his face as he resumed his drumming, obviously discontent to sit still.

The creak of his office door finally broke his futile staring contest with the hard plastic communication device, drawing his eyes upward to meet those of his visitor. Mack stepped into the room wearily, his face drawn in worry equal to Coulson’s own.

“Any luck?” asked Mack hopefully, nodding down at the phone as he came to a stop in front of the desk. The draw of his brow belied the depth of his concern for his friends.

“None,” stated Coulson with an unhappy sigh. “They’re almost 30 minutes late for check-in.” His fingers drummed on the desk one more time before he stood and looked towards the office door. “I don’t like this. Something feels wrong.”

“Maybe they found something,” suggested Mack as he followed Coulson’s line of sight before looking back down at the phone on his boss’ desk. “They might be checking on a lead.”

“I told Hunter every hour on the hour,” stated Coulson as he rounded his desk and headed out of his office. Mack followed immediately on his heels, the director continuing in what had the potential to become a rant quickly. “They’re flying over the ocean, scanning for anomalies. There should be anything out there to check out and they should have radioed in before they checked on any lead.”

“So, what are you going to do?” questioned Mack as he followed Coulson through the hallways and towards the security center. “We don’t know exactly where they are. Hunter said it was a hundred-mile area; they could be anywhere in that space.”

Coulson paused as he reached the security center doors momentarily before turning to Mack. “Go find May. I’m going to see if Daisy can track the quinjet. May be she can contact the.”

“And if not?” asked Mack, raising an eyebrow curiously.

Coulson’s lips thinned. “Then we go find them the old fashion way.”

Nodding, Mack turned away with a quiet ‘right’ and headed back down the hall at a trot. Coulson turned back to the security center and entered silently. Inside, the usual array of computers hummed away, but no one was actually in the room. All of the monitors were switched off, though the hum of the servers and computers told him everything was up and running like normal. Daisy was nowhere to be found though, no was Lincoln.

Cursing, Coulson pulled out his cell and punched in a number before raising the device to his ear. It rang for a minute, though to Coulson it clearly felt longer. When a click echoed over the line indicating the call had been picked up, his shoulders relaxed a little, relief clearly palpable on his face.

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-The Warehouse-

Letting out a heavy breath, Daisy secured the last of the wires for the computers they’d bought over to the warehouse and dropped into her chair. The space they’d set up wasn’t huge, but it was in an isolated part of the building, away from any external windows and surrounded on two sides by brick walls, with the other two being metal. One metal wall contained a bank of semi-transparent windows that looked down into the rest of the warehouse, the other a door that was currently propped open leading onto a catwalk.

A bank of seven monitors were mounted on one wall, all hooked up to the same computer server. Each displayed video footage from a different room or angle within the warehouse. Another, separate computer was set up on the other wall, with one chair in the room that could move between both workstations. The isolated computer was also complete with speakers and two monitors. There was no other hardware in the room. With the room up and running, the Warehouse’s server space was now complete.

Spinning her chair slightly, she took a moment to gaze around the room at her handy work. When she turned back to the desk though, her eyes fell on a flash drive- the one Hunter had brought her containing Ward’s messages. Idly, she picked up the drive, turned it over in her hands, and considered the device carefully. She flicked off the lid of the device, staring at the USB end of the device pensively for a moment.

The moment was broken by the sound of a phone ringing. Blinking a little, she fished her phone out of her pocket and stared at the screen for a moment. With a sigh, she accepted the call, pressing the phone to her ear.

“Yeah DC?” asked Daisy distractedly, eyes falling back to the drive. She turned it over in her hand, spinning the device idly.

“Where are you?” demanded Coulson, his tense voice laced with anger.

“The Warehouse,” replied Daisy, blinking as her eyes rose from the device to look at one of the walls. Her fingers curled over the device idly, sealing it inside her hand. When she spoke again, her attention was clearly focused on the call. “What happened?”

“Hunter and Bobbi have failed to check in,” stated Coulson with a sigh. “I need you back here tracking the quinjet. And bring Lincoln in case we need you two to retrieve them.”

“Right, we’ll be there soon,” agreed Daisy with a whooshing breath before ending the call and setting the phone on the desk. Her fingers curled tighter around the flash drive for a moment before she replaced it on the desk beside her mouse and stood, heading for the door onto the catwalk.

Stepping out, she turned down the catwalk and stuck her head into the room beside her own. Lincoln set inside, typing away at his own computer, though he lacked the server and most of the monitors Daisy’s own set-up had.

“Hey, Lincoln,” spoke up Daisy, her knuckles rapping on the door to catch his attention.

Lincoln nearly shot out of his seat, spinning rapidly towards her. He flipped off the monitor as he moved, blinking at Daisy in surprise. The surprise relaxed back to normal after a second, but Daisy still filed the information into the back of her head. Nervous, secretive behavior was never a good sign.

“What’s up Daisy?” asked Lincoln as he stood, clearly ready for something bad to have happened.

“DC called,” replied Daisy, refocusing her attention on the matter at hand. “Hunter and Bobbi disappeared following some evidence related to a case. We need to head over to the Playground and see if we can locate them. This might turn into an extraction, so I need backup.”

“Alright, let’s go then,” stated Lincoln, snatching up his jacket from his chair and gesturing for Daisy to go before him.

She stepped back out of the room, nodding before doubling back towards her own office. “Head down to the truck. I’ll be there in two minutes, I just need to grab my laptop.”

“Got it,” agreed Lincoln, pulling the door to his computer area shut and jogging towards the motor pool.

Daisy doubled back to her office, snatching up her computer then pausing before she double checked the back-up sequence for the computers, including Lincoln’s, was running. Straightening again, she paused once more before grabbing a piece of paper and scribbling the words ‘sniffer on L’. She left both the paper and pen on the desk as she headed out of the room with a deep breath and quiet murmur. “Focus Skye, you can worry about Lincoln later.”

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-The Playground-

Tucking his phone back into his pocket, Coulson turned back out of the security office and towards the labs. However, instead of entering the labs, he entered a room right beside them that looked like it might have been a broom closet. Inside, SSR-era furniture decorated the crowded space- a desk, chair, and file cabinet- along with a modern computer and a laptop.

Immediately, Coulson crossed to the desk and flipped on the computer. Entering his login credentials, he watched as the desktop flicked on revealing nearly empty screen save two files and the recycling bin. One fold was named ‘psycho’ and the other ‘you snooze’.

“Really Hunter?” muttered Coulson as he selected ‘you snooze’ and clicked to open it.

A window filled with documents flicked onto the screen. Most were video files containing footage from the various robberies that had occurred and detailed reports of what had been taken. There were no signs of any files pertaining to the Atlantic that might suggest where their exact search area was though.

Letting out a heavy sigh, Coulson turned towards the laptop. It wasn’t Hunters; he knew that. Hunter hadn’t wanted a laptop; he said they were a bigger pain than they were worth. Apparently, the man had destroyed more than a few of them in his life. If he had to guess, it was probably Bobbi’s.

Powering it on, he again logged into the device with his own information. This time, he found a desktop covered in folders- half of which appeared to be case files and the other half related to research projects Bobbi and Simmons were running. Three minimized windows sat along the bottom and, when Coulson clicked on them, a map, a shipping manifest, and a list of ships from a New York port all appeared. It was the map the caught his eye though: there was a 100-mile are that the ships all seemed to cross near. It was still a 100-mile area, but it was the only thing he could see that they might be heading out to check out in the area. It was a start a minimum.

Snapping the lid shut on the laptop, he picked it up and exited the room, heading back into the hall. Pulling out his cell, he selected a number and pressed the device to his ear. The call was picked up almost immediately. “Mack, change of plans. Grab May and head for the command center. I think I found the area they’re in.”

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-Unknown Location-

Blinking, Bobbi slowly opened her eyes, though they shut again almost immediately due to a blinding light above her head. The bed beneath her creaked slightly as she moved faintly, though bindings holding her wrists and ankles in place kept her from moving too much in any direction. It took another minute for her to try again, after turning her head away from the light above. White walls met her gaze, surrounding her with nothing else apparently in the room.

Her breathing shuttered a little as she tugged at the restraints to her wrists and ankles. They didn’t budge. She tried bending her knees to angle her feet, but the restraints were too well latched and made it impossible. She tried the same thing with her wrists, but found the same issue. Biting her lip, she twisted her wrist around in a clear attempt to force her thumb passed the edge of the cuff, but the sound of a door flinging open stopped her. Whoever entered was out of her range of sight momentarily, before a woman appeared near her feet.

The dark-haired woman offered her a sharp smile, short black hair swaying slightly as she tilted her head. Chocolate brown eyes flashed in the bright light from above, not cruel per say but not kind, either. A black, military-style shirt hugged her upper body, edged with an acid green that matched a shade of green painted across her lips.

Without preamble, she pulled a stool out from beside the bed and perched on it, her sharp smile shifting into more of a smirk. “Well, well. It looks like we’ve caught ourselves a little mockingbird.” Leaning back a little, she extracted a small device from her pocket, flipping the object on. It hummed as it turned on, lights flashing in a line across the top while the mystery woman fiddled with something on the screen. She didn’t lift her eyes from the device as she added: “I hope you like to talk as much as your namesake, because we are going to have a nice little chat.”