Ghostwalker ▷ b. barnes [2]

xxi. the squat bald henchman

WHAT NEXT?

Sam regretted asking that question.

Jasper Sitwell didn't have an interesting life. Outside of SHIELD, the man stuck to a strict schedule of moving from his apartment, to the nearby coffee shop, then back to work at SHIELD. There were a few times he was called away to DC for business, but the trips never seemed to last longer than a day.

If Sam had to follow him for one more day, she was going to go mad with boredom.

Steve, Natasha, and Clint had been recruited for a handful of STRIKE team missions since Fury had given them consent to snoop around. But with her trying to stay out of the spotlight, Sam hadn't been extended an invitation to join.

She didn't realize how much she enjoyed punching people until she couldn't anymore.

On the bright side, Steve was talking to her again.

In short, clipped sentences that made his continuing dislike of the mission clear. But talking on the same.

Sam stood in the back of the line, the smell of coffee strong in the air, and watched Sitwell order his usual. A plain bagel, black coffee.

The man didn't even have good taste.

But this time, instead of getting it to go, he sat across the table from a taller, well-dressed woman in the corner. Blonde hair was pinned neatly back and she had her hands folded, steam rising from a mug to her side.

Sam moved over and sat at another table with her back to them. Close enough she could hear their words without being suspicious.

"Baroness."

"Sitwell."

"I trust this meeting was called for a reason? It's rather out in the open."

"I could be anyone, Sitwell, don't concern yourself with being seen. We're here because Alexander Pierce has been avoiding the council's calls."

Sam tensed a little. But Sitwell had gone silent.

"The other Heads are growing tense," the woman continued. "Not only did Pierce lose the scepter and the Tesseract, but our sources report that Nick Fury has doubled SHIELD security."

"Sources?"

"We all have them. Don't act so surprised, Jasper."

Sam brought her coffee to her lips, but didn't take a sip. Instead, she gazed across the crowded room and tried to stay relaxed. But her mind was spinning.

"Fury's been more vigilant since the attack on New York," Sitwell said. "That's all."

"Is it?"

"What are you implying?"