Who Am I? » [Stucky]

137. A House Divided

"My team - I know you're used to dealing with o-eight-fours, but this is something far more severe and our top priority as of now. This is the biggest threat we've ever come up against, and is close to home. Everyone's home. So henceforth, our one and only objective is to complete Operation: Hercules..." Coulson introduced the initiative, the edges of his face outlined with a white glow from the television displayed behind him. "HYDRA..." Their logo flashed up on the screen and he sidestepped. "A neo-Nazi organisation. A villainous anarchist fascist organisation who want nothing more than to subjugate the population of the earth..." The skull with the tentacles faded and was replaced by a world map. "And they're halfway there..."

Everyone's eyes were locked on the screen. An ocean of pulsating red dots flickered on the screen, scattered across the world like counters on a monopoly board - just as widely spaced and intermittent. In third world countries they were sparse, but there was a correlation between political injustice and anarchy and where the bases were.

"Washington DC, New York City, Anchorage - Alaska, Bangor - Maine, Minneapolis - Minnesota, The Nevadan Desert, Mountains of Utah, the planes of Colorado... Greenland and Vancouver in Canada..." The map zoomed in on South America. "Mexico City - Mexico, Rio De Janeiro - Brazil, the Amazon Rainforest - Colombia..." It whisked off to the Caribbean. "Cuba..." It whisked off to Europe. "Edinburgh, Dublin and London in the UK... Austria, Hungary, Italy, multiple in Germany, Norway, Russia... Ukraine, Lithuania, Estonia, Belarus, Serbia, Albania, Bosnia and Herzegovnia..." It veered to the left. "Kazakhstan, Uzbekistan..." It moved further to the Middle East and Africa. "Turkey, Egypt, Iraq, Afghanistan, Rwanda, South Africa..." It went off to Asia. "China, North Korea, Vietnam... And finally, Australia." The map zoomed back out.

"Hang on..." Tony interceded to voice everyone's opinions. "So that's forty bases?" He growled out a sigh and flopped back in his seat scratching his nails through his scruffy beard, splotchy with flecks of grey starting to come through.

"Just over... Glad you've been counting: I have to remind you there's more than one in Germany... And there are some obscurities with tracing the HYDRA signals to all these places. With the red dots, there are no discrepancies... But in Germany, signals get a bit messy; they're masked and scrambled and it's where all the signals converge. As if they're all feeding back to one giant transmitter..." Coulson frowned deeply, the lines on his head bolding contemptuously. "So to find the identity and location of the final base, we're going to have to try and trace the signals back from the other bases first. I can only assume there's a transmitter that links them all to this one in Germany that's so important it's been shielded and scrambled. We can only guess that it's the command post for them all..." Coulson scrunched his nose at the screen.

Clint raised his hand, capturing the attention of his handler. "So we're going in and taking out all of these bases..?" Then he looked at the selection of cringe-worthy misfits. "With these kids and May?"

Tony snorted and Natasha slapped him on the hand.

"Hey! We are not children!" Jemma Simmons interrupted. "Isn't that right, Leo..?" She cooed expectantly, grimacing as he was suspended in silence. "Back me up on this..." She begged, sadness pooling in her eyes and she hopelessly awaited a response from her damaged partner.

"Yeah... W-what she said..." Leo spluttered and a cursed look of self-deprecation swamped his features. "We're perfectly..." He chomped on his lip in thought and clutched at his shoulder self-consciously. "C..." He breathed it out hopelessly. "C-" he snapped his fingers. "What's the word, Jemma?" He sadly pleaded with his eyes.

"Capable, Fitz..." She corrected him, placing her hand over his and stroking it to pacify his jitters. She could sense his hand trembling. "The word is capable..." Her British accent was articulate and slashed through the air like a carving knife.