Chapter 8

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Chapter 3



Coulson



Coulson stood in front of the small diner, sitting outside of his van. He didn't exit. Not until he received the full report from agent Kressler who had been sent in to receive the hacker. The mission was simple. For him, though, it seemed a bit too easy. With most criminals who had every hacked into SHIELD's conserved and private data base, it was difficult to track their whereabouts due to their decryption having led to a mysterious source, but this woman seemed too trained to be caught so easily. She had taken out trained guards in order to get into the base, hacked into their SSR files and transferred them onto her mobile device, all without capturing her face.

Kressler had gone in undercover in order to track her movements and get her from the restaurant without making a scene where SHIELD would take both her and the chip into custody. He had gone in 13 minutes ago. And they haven't heard from him in 13 minutes. Kressler's microphone was hooked into the van's stereo to enable Coulson to hear every report the Kressler could give.

The car was off, the headlights dim against the street in front of him. No agent was in the car besides him, as he sat in front of the steering wheel, peeking at the restaurant through the tinted windows. More cars were parked to the curb behind him, all filled with armed agents that would get the woman as soon as she came from the building, all waiting impatiently behind the lines, also hooked into Kressler's microphone. Coulson sat for minutes a bit impatiently, the heat beginning to seep into the car's window when suddenly there was a bit of static from the other end, meaning a connection was trying to make itself breached. Coulson leaned himself forward, tampering with the radio to enable him to hear the connection. For a while, however, it was just buzzing.

"Agent Kressler. Agent Kressler do you copy?" Coulson demanded, placing his hand on the knob of the stereo in the corner, allowing the static to dim a moment until it faded. And then came a voice. A cold, hard voice of a girl. A girl that seemed to vicious beyond her years.

"I see you found the tracker I have implanted within my phone and the file, allowing you to trace me to this spot."  The girl gave a small scoff over the speaker and suddenly Coulson stiffened, his hand reaching toward his gun in preparation to storm the place. "I have two things of yours--every file that you have kept secret to the world an Agent Kressler. I have to admit, I am a bit ashamed that I didn't get more of a fight as I expected. No matter, it will just make the next part all the more easy. You have someone. Someone I want. Phillip Coulson." Coulson felt the breath leave him and adrenaline suddenly flooded from his veins. "Come unarmed and alone and I will return both the agent and the chip to your possession. No one gets hurt. If not."  The girl gave a small, dark chuckle, her voice filling the space of the van. "Then I suppose you'll be both exposed for all the lies you've hid from the world and you'll be down one less agent. You have seven minutes."

With that the line went, once again, fuzzy, leaving Coulson to stare at the space in front of him. Hundreds of thoughts buzzed his mind, all too dizzy and noisy to comprehend. But one thought was clear. He quickly pushed himself towards the door and placed his right hand on the handle and pulled it towards him, allowing the door to quickly open and Coulson pushed the door opened further. He pushed himself from his seat, beginning to walk around the curb, staying behind the car, the traffic crazy behind him.

However, he wasn't about to get away that easily. As soon as he got out of the car, so did the few other members, all dressed in armor and padding, their face covered with protective gear, holding their large machine guns in hand. They burst from the doors and Coulson was sure that the patrons in the diner had seen them as they crouched in front of the the doors. Placing their guns on the stands in front of them, loaded and ready to shoot. The last to exit the van was Agent Hill, who wore a black cat suit, hugging her tightly, a hand gun pointed down towards the ground, her almond, colorless eyes staring at the man with intense wondering as she stared up towards the small, hometown café.

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