SHIELD (A Captain America Story, Book 1 of the SHIELD Series) COMPLETE

Prologue: The Beginning

​It had been a beautiful day in Topeka, Kansas, and now the moon was shining. However, this had almost no impact on the two men meeting at the top floor restaurant of the Starview Hotel. The building was mostly deserted at this hour, their waitress seemed to be the only one working. They didn't really notice, though.

"You expect me to pay you $100,000 for that?" one drawled. In his mid-fifties, he had short salt-and-pepper hair and an attitude that could only have come from a life of ill-gotten gains.

"What if I can bring something else to the table?" The other man asked. This one was younger, still eager to please.

​"Like what?" the older man sounded suspicious.

​The two men were so deep in their discussion they didn't even notice the waitress hovering beside them until she cleared her throat.

​"Mr. Dorris, there's someone outside asking for you," her voice was timid, apologetic as she refilled their wineglasses.
​
The older man grunted his approval. "Yes, I was expecting someone. Let him up."

"Of course, sir," the waitress dipped her head and walked away to let the third member of their party into the private meeting Mr. Dorris' people had reserved the entire restaurant for.

​"Now, Anderson," Dorris turned back to his companion, "What was it you were promising?" He lifted his wineglass and sipped it slowly.

Anderson pulled a USB out of his jacket pocket and laid it on the table, keeping one finger pressed on it. "This," he said, "Is an untraceable blueprint from a secret government database."

"And?" Mr. Dorris passed a hand over his mouth, unimpressed.

"This agency—it's the stuff of conspiracy theories," Anderson insisted, "And this blueprint... It's for weapons you couldn't imagine." He looked back up to find the older man now rubbing his lips furiously, ignoring him completely. "Mr. Dorris?"

"I- I can't feel my face," Dorris stammered, "I can't..." He slumped in his chair, chin falling onto his chest.

"Mr. Dorris?" Anderson reached across the table and tapped the other man's shoulder.

No response.

"Sir?" He heard the waitress approaching, apparently oblivious to the unconscious Mr. Dorris.

Anderson looked up and cried out as a small, triangular blade whizzed past his arm, cutting his shoulder. He grabbed at the torn fabric of his suit, wincing.

The waitress stood behind him with another blade held expertly in one hand, ready to throw.

He wanted to reach for his gun, but he seemed to be slowing down. His vision blurred and his limbs grew heavy as he stumbled back, holding the chair in a feeble attempt to keep himself standing.

"Three," the woman said, a strange smile on her face.

"What-" he was barely conscious, but reached shakily for the gun concealed beneath his coat.

"Two." Anderson noticed that the waitress' eyes were an unnatural violet color as his mind grew foggy. He wondered vaguely if he was hallucinating.

"One." A numb feeling spread through Anderson's body and he lost hold of the chair as he sank to the floor, landing heavily on the carpet.

Behind the woman, a team of SHIELD agents ran in. Two medics rushed forward to lever both men onto stretchers, whisking them out of the room like so much dirty laundry.

"Mild toxins, just enough to keep them knocked out for an hour or two," the waitress explained to one of the medics, "Oh, and get a team on the second elevator, they've got their, ah, business partner heading up. Unarmed, as far as I know, but be cautious." The man nodded curtly and left as the woman turned away, clicking on her earpiece, "Coulson? They're secure."

"Ava, did you have to knock them out?"

"Would you have preferred a firefight?" Ava raised an eyebrow.

"Thank you for your efforts in recovering the files," Coulson ignored her barb, "but I'm going to have to pull you out of there."

"You're joking," she crossed her arms, "It's supposed to be my week off, Coulson. I just finished a month of undercover work."

"I know, and I'm sorry. It's the only time I could get Director Fury to let me borrow you for," he explained.

"What do you need?" She asked, untying the apron of her waitress outfit and tossing it aside.

"I need another volunteer for a special mission... In Greenland."

"Couldn't you just get some trainee to do it?"

"I would, but I can't."

"Why not?"

"It's a Level 9 Classified mission. I only have clearance because Fury put me in charge of it."

Ava froze. Level 9 missions were the highest any mission could be. Ava only knew of a few Level 9 agents and one of them was Maria Hill, SHIELD's second-in-command. Something that was Level 9 classified was usually kept between Fury and his confidantes only, so letting field agents work on it was unusual.

"What are we doing in Greenland that's so important?" She asked.

"We are forming a...well, I guess you could call it a search party."

"Searching for what?"

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you."