Frostbite

Seventeen

"Did you get my flowers?" Pierce taunted as we entered the room, "I'm glad you're here, Nick. And you Miss Stark."

"Really? Cause I thought you had me killed," Fury said coldly. We stopped several feet away from him. Natasha was at the computer disabling it so that we could release all of Hydra's secrets onto the internet.

"You know how the game works," Pierce shrugged. The council was keeping their distance from him and only looked at him in disgust. One still held a pistol by their side nervously.

"So why make me head of S.H.I.E.L.D?"

"Cause you were the best and the most ruthless person I ever met."

"I did what I did to protect people," Fury growled.

"Our enemies are your enemies, Nick. Disorder, war. It's just a matter of time before a dirty bomb goes off in Moscow or an EMP fries Chicago. Diplomacy? Holding action, a band-aid. And you know where I learned that? Bogota. You didn't ask, you just did what had to be done. I can bring order to the lives of seven billion people by sacrificing twenty million. It's the next step, Nick, if you have the courage to take it," Pierce replied, truly believing what he was saying.

"No, I have the courage not to," Fury shook his head, dragging Pierce to the retinal scanner while Natasha trained her gun on him. I stayed back in case someone came through the door.

"Retinal scanner active," the computer spoke.

"You don't think we wiped your clearance from the system?" Pierce scoffed at Fury.

"I know you erased my password, probably deleted my retinal scan, but if you want to stay ahead of me, Mr. Secretary..." Fury removed his eyepatch, revealing his scarred, dead eye, "You need to keep both eyes open." They both looked into the retinal scanner, waiting for the approval.

"Alpha Level confirmed. Encryption code accepted. Safeguards removed."

Pierce glanced over at me smugly, his eyes dancing with delight, not a care in the world. This was a game to him. My hands curled into fists as I tried not to shake in anger. There he stood, the man who took everything from me, and he was laughing.

"I'm glad you're having a good time Mr. Secretary," I sneered, stepping closer to him. Small wisps of energy flared from my fists.

"You've always amused me, Miss Stark. We tried time and time again to make you a strong fighter, our ultimate weapon, and each time you failed beautifully. You're just like your father. A disgrace to humanity, and frankly- a waste of space," he said, looking down at me as if I was a rodent.

"What does my father have to do with it?" I growled, stepping closer threateningly.

"He was a greedy man whose work was to only benefit himself."

"That's a bold lie," I scoffed and suddenly something clicked in my head, "There was some kind of tech that you wanted that he refused to give you, wasn't there? So, when Killian suggested me as a test subject, you couldn't resist. It was your petty form of revenge."

He snorted, and his mouth formed a hard, thin line; I was obviously right. He took a step closer to me, no longer paying attention to anyone else in the room. He removed his hands from his pockets and said, "You're so naive... even now. You think you'll ever know all of Hydra's secrets? You think you can eradicate everything I've built so easily? Rogers will fail, and you'll be dead. Just like your drunken father."

His voice had risen until he was shouting, and he had been inching closer all the while. At his last words, I lunged forward and grabbed him around the throat, smashing him into the wall. He looked terrified, which was probably more satisfying than it should have been. Natasha quickly left her position at the computer and tried to pry me away.

"Stark, he's not worth it. Let go! Melanie. Let. Go," she tried to reason, wrestling with me. I released my grip and he fell forward, gasping for air. I glanced at Nat apologetically and stepped back. I wouldn't become a murderer like him. I wouldn't stoop that low.

"Rumlow's headed for the Council," Hill announced over the comms. I cast a final disgusted look at Pierce and started walking toward the door.

"I'm on it."