A/N Shameless Note from a Shameless Author 😎
Merry Christmas, readers! 🎄🎅 Thanks for joining me on this journey. Yesterday, I dropped several chapters, and today, here's Chapter 6—keeping the momentum going! 😜 While I'll try to post regularly, life has its own plans 🤷♂️, so it won't always be weekly. But with your support, I'll keep pushing forward! 🙌
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Thanks for reading and being here. Let's keep going! 🚀
Wishing you an amazing Christmas full of surprises and good vibes! 🎁✨
----
Nicholas Fury was in his office, a stark room filled with history. The gray walls were adorned with photographs of old missions, awards, and maps marked with strategic points. A bookshelf full of classified files occupied one corner, while a large wooden desk dominated the center of the room, polished but scarred by the passage of time. On it, several monitors displayed information on active operatives and global threats.
He leaned back in his chair, letting the weight of the past few days settle on his shoulders. Among the many worries filling his mind was the recent disappearance of some key figures on the board, one of them in particular unsettling him. The pillars of global security cannot keep wobbling, he thought, furrowing his brow slightly.
A beep on his private line pulled him from his thoughts.
"Nicholas Fury, code 47-Kilo-Alpha, ex-agent ID 1995-0327. Put me through to your office immediately."
The voice he heard left him frozen.
"Clare..." he whispered, as if saying her name would confirm it wasn't a hallucination.
The voice was clear, authoritative, one he hadn't heard in that tone for years. Clare Jones.
Fury remained still, his mind quickly processing. Clare had been out of the game for years. Since the mission that changed everything, she had become a shadow of what she once was, trapped in a cycle of confusion, her days marked by both physical and mental fragility.
"Director Fury, no time for sentimentality," Clare replied, her tone firm, unmistakable like it was in her glory days at S.H.I.E.L.D.
For a moment, Fury closed his eyes, letting a mix of emotion and nostalgia wash over him. Clare had been one of the best, someone he trusted completely. Hearing her like this, like the old times, stirred something in him—hope, perhaps, but also suspicion.
"Clare, how...?" he began, but she interrupted him.
"This isn't a social call, Fury. My son, Maximus, has been arrested. I need you to free him, now."
Fury leaned back in his chair, massaging his temples.
"Why are you calling me for this? If he was arrested, there must be a reason."
"For a simple theft? No. You and I know it wasn't for that. Max is careful, Nicholas. He always has been. This doesn't add up."
Fury hesitated. Clare was good at detecting patterns; she had proven it countless times in the past. But now... she wasn't the same.
"Clare, you know that... after everything that happened, I'm not sure I can trust your judgment. Not now."
"Do you think I don't know that?" she responded coldly. "You don't trust me because you know I'm not always okay. But I'm not delirious, Nicholas. I'm lucid. Lucid enough to know Max wouldn't make a mistake so big he'd get caught for something so trivial. Something doesn't fit, and you know it."
Fury frowned, letting the pieces begin to fall into place in his mind.
"Clare, it's not as simple as just making a call," he replied, letting out a sigh. He wanted to hang up, let it go. But then Clare played the card he knew he couldn't ignore.
"You owe me one, Fury. For Gabriel."
The air seemed to grow heavier. His mind drifted back to that fateful day.
---
HYDRA Laboratory 1995
The air was thick with a metallic and chemical odor. The underground HYDRA laboratory was a monster of steel and glass, with polished metal walls reflecting the flashing red lights and explosions. The corridors were narrow and claustrophobic, with wires hanging from the ceiling like electric snakes and pipes vibrating with a constant hum. The cracked concrete floor resonated with every hurried step.
Clare was crouched in front of the main control panel, a wall full of blinking lights and buttons labeled in languages she barely understood. Her fingers, encased in tactical gloves, moved with surgical precision, unraveling a tangle of colorful wires that crackled as they were manipulated. Sweat ran down her temple, but her gaze stayed fixed on her task, not blinking.
Behind her, Nicholas Fury and Gabriel Jones held the line. Both African American, their shadows cast against the glow of the alarms made them appear larger, almost titanic. Fury, with his iconic eye patch, fired precise bursts from his assault rifle, his posture tense but controlled. Gabriel, bulkier with an imposing presence, fired with a shotgun, each shot reverberating like thunder in the enclosed space.
The atmosphere was a hellish cacophony. The alarms shrieked with a high-pitched beep, blending with the roar of gunfire, the clash of boots against concrete, and the distant shouts of HYDRA soldiers. A strobe light flickered above their heads, casting erratic shadows on the walls.
"How much longer, Clare?" Fury growled, not taking his eyes off the soldiers advancing from the far end of the corridor.
"Give me one more minute!" Clare shouted, her voice barely audible over the chaos.
"We don't have a damn minute!" Gabriel snapped, firing a shot that took down two soldiers with a single blow. The smell of gunpowder and burning metal filled the air.
"Then make one up, Gabriel," Clare growled, not taking her eyes off the energy core she was manipulating. Her hands shook slightly, but her determination was unwavering.
Finally, with a snap and a flash of sparks, Clare disconnected the core. The energy sphere powering the biotech weapon went out, and the deafening hum that had filled the lab ceased abruptly.
"Done!" Clare exclaimed, jumping up and grabbing the bag where she stored the deactivated core.
"Well done. Now let's get out of here," Fury said, taking position to cover her.
The trio began their retreat, moving through the corridors with trained precision. Clare held the deactivated core in a sealed bag, while Gabriel and Fury dealt with the soldiers attempting to intercept them.
The buzzing of the alarms filled the air, along with the echo of gunfire and orders shouted in German. Each step brought them closer to the exit, but also increased the feeling that something was about to go terribly wrong.
When they reached the main lobby, a group of HYDRA reinforcements was already waiting for them. The soldiers blocked the only exit, aiming automatic weapons at them.
"Damn it," Fury murmured, raising his weapon.
Gabriel frowned, quickly scanning the area. His eyes stopped on a metal structure in the ceiling, a pipe hanging dangerously above the group of soldiers.
"Leave without me," Gabe said suddenly, with a calm that made Clare stop dead in her tracks.
"What?" Clare asked, turning to him.
"I'm going to take that down. It'll give you the time you need to escape," Gabriel explained, aiming his rifle at the pipe.
"No!" Clare shouted, but Fury had already understood.
"Gabriel, there's no need for this. We can get out together."
Gabe shook his head, his gaze fixed on Clare.
"Max is only 3 years old, he needs his mother. And you, Nicholas, still have work to do in this damned world."
Before either of them could respond, Gabe fired. The pipe shattered with a metallic crash, falling onto the HYDRA soldiers and blocking the entrance. The impact created a secondary explosion that filled the hallway with smoke and fire.
"Run!" Gabe shouted, as metal fragments began falling around them.
Clare tried to move towards him, but Fury grabbed her arm and pushed her toward the exit.
"We can't stay here!"
With tears in her eyes, Clare ran alongside Fury down the hallway toward the exit. But before they could reach a safe place, a more powerful explosion resonated behind them. The entire lab shook, and a nearby container holding the biotech gas burst open, releasing a glowing blue cloud that spread rapidly.
"Clare, watch out!" Fury shouted, covering himself with his jacket as the cloud enveloped them.
Clare was hit directly by the gas. Her body staggered, and her breathing became erratic as the chemical began to take effect. Fury managed to drag her out of the facility just before another explosion collapsed the ceiling.
End of Flashback
---
Back in the present, Clare's voice broke him out of his thoughts.
"He gave his life for you, Fury. For your people. I'm not asking you for a favor; I'm reminding you of what you owe us."
Fury closed his eyes, letting the weight of those words sink in. Gabe had been a friend, a brother. And though he'd never admit it out loud, the memory of that mission haunted him.
"Alright, Clare. I'll make some inquiries. But if this turns out to be nothing more than a mother overprotecting her son..."
"It's not," she interrupted him. "Do your job, Nicholas. Not for me, but for Gabriel."
The line cut, leaving Fury in heavy silence. He looked at the file he'd been reviewing.
First Stark missing, and now this...
Fury stood from his chair with a fierce determination on his face. He looked at the on-duty assistant, who was standing by the door, waiting for instructions.
"Prepare a helicopter for me," he ordered in his usual cold tone. "I'm going to Manhattan. I'll handle this myself."
---
MAX'S POV. Present
It had been a while since he was processed, and now Max found himself in a cell, the cold walls and heavy air pressing against his lungs. He had been processed as an adult, which meant his future could be very different from other kids his age. The matter was serious, and that's why he was in the same cell as Scott. When Max saw him, it was hard to read his expression. There was something in Scott's gaze, a deep defeat, a resignation that cut to his bones. Max wanted to speak, say something so he wouldn't feel so alone, to offer some comfort, but he first had to convince himself that there was still something worth fighting for.
Maybe the good side is that I'm underage. Maybe they won't send me to prison... maybe to a reform school, a couple of years and that's it... he thought, though the doubt gnawed at him.
Then suddenly, an idea hit him like a punch. Shit... he thought. What if they take my mom to a mental hospital? What if they deem her incapable of taking care of me? Then... His stomach tightened instantly. Then they'll send me to an orphanage. A damn orphanage, until I'm of age. That's still a year away, and though it seemed like little, it felt like an endless sentence.
The fluorescent lights flickered above him, and the idea wouldn't leave him. What would he do if that really happened? He knew his mother didn't have the mental strength to face something like that, and the worst part was that the people around them wouldn't understand, they wouldn't see her for who she was...
"Maximus Jones, you have a visitor."
His thoughts were abruptly interrupted when he heard his name.
Max looked up, expecting to see his mother or maybe some officer, but instead, he saw a burly man, around 30 or older. His expression was serious, his posture firm, and the clothes he wore weren't that of a police officer. Instead of the usual uniform, what stood out the most was the penetrating gaze of the man, one Max couldn't decipher. He didn't recognize him, but something about this man's presence felt unsettling, almost intimidating.
"Who...?" Max began, but before he could finish, the man interrupted him with a deep voice.
"First, come with me. We can't talk here," the man said, his tone cold and authoritative. "The only thing you need to know is that I'm a friend of your mother."
Max didn't say anything, he just nodded, not fully understanding, but his curiosity was stronger than his distrust. Maybe he's a friend from the army, he thought.
He remembered that his mother had once mentioned being linked to something like the military, but the details had always been vague. The little she had told him slipped out in moments of delirium, and what she said never made much sense. That curiosity, which he had always had about his mother's past, had never been satisfied. But now, with this man in front of him, something told him that he might get some answers.
The man snapped him out of his thoughts when he led him to what appeared to be an interrogation room. The cold, austere environment didn't help alleviate the growing tension in the air. The man closed the door with a soft click and gestured for Max to sit at a table dimly lit by a faint light.
Max tried to speak, but was interrupted once again.
"Do you really know who your mother was? I mean, her past..." the man asked, his tone even graver.
Max fell silent, not knowing how to respond. The little he knew about his mother was all she had told him in her most fragile moments. He had never dared to ask more, accepting the little she shared, even though he knew there was more, something she couldn't or didn't want to share.
"She told me she was part of a government group... something related to the military..." Max started, unsure of how to continue.
The man let out a suppressed laugh, but his serious expression didn't change.
"Military? Well, you could say that." He paused before continuing. "Your mother was part of a very secretive government group, just like your father. Gabriel and Clare Jones. Both were active members of what is now known as S.H.I.E.L.D."
Max furrowed his brow. The name sounded familiar, but he didn't know what it referred to. The man continued, as if reading his thoughts.
"S.H.I.E.L.D.," he repeated with almost military precision. "Strategic Homeland Intervention Enforcement and Logistics Division". A high-level intelligence agency dedicated to protecting national and global security. Your mother and father were highly trained agents. Your father, Gabriel Jones, was a key member of the elite group known as the Howling Commandos. Covert operations, high-risk missions, espionage, fighting global threats, often off the radar of official agencies."
The man observed how Max processed the information, and then continued, his voice deep and calculating.
"Your mother, Clare, had a similar role. She was part of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s most sensitive operations, working as a field operative and strategist. Both of them were essential in keeping this country safe from threats you would never understand, threats that operated in the shadows. They both sacrificed a lot to keep us all safe."
The man continued, his voice maintaining a grave, authoritative tone, but there was something in his gaze, something beginning to change, as if the shadows of his true nature were starting to emerge.
"And well, one of the most dangerous groups your parents faced was Hydra."
Max looked at him confused, not understanding what could be so important about this group. But the man didn't give him time to process, beginning to explain with a calculating coldness.
"Hydra," he continued, "is a secret organization, created with a single purpose: absolute world control. Their ideals are simple: the survival of humanity under a totalitarian regime, a society where they rule. They see themselves as superior, the rightful leaders of the human race, and only those with enough strength should hold power. Extremists, thirsty for control. No matter how much damage they cause to reach their goal."
Max tried to absorb all of this, but he couldn't grasp the magnitude of what he was hearing. Hydra? A group so large and powerful? He thought it was just something from the movies or conspiracy theories. But the man continued, his tone lower now, graver, as if his words were laced with poison.
"Your mother and father fought against them. For years, they carried out covert missions to dismantle their cells, destroy their operations. Hydra shows no mercy. They have left a trail of destruction throughout history, and every time they thought they'd wiped them out, they always resurface, hide in the shadows, and reorganize. They're like a snake: you cut off one head, but two more grow back."
Max could feel something shift in the air. The atmosphere in the interrogation room grew heavier, more oppressive. The man in front of him, who had only moments ago seemed like an authoritative figure, began to show a cold, calculated smile. His posture grew more threatening as he spoke.
"Your parents tried to stop them, but Hydra is still there. Stronger, more insidious. They infiltrate governments, corporations, and the minds of people, manipulating those in power. And now, after all this time, they are closer than ever to getting what they want."
The man took a step closer to Max, his face now illuminated by the dim light of the room, but his expression had turned far more dangerous, darker. The same shadow of authority and control that emanated from him had transformed into something far more visceral, something far more sinister.
Max tried to lean back in his chair, but he couldn't move. The air felt thick, as if the entire life of his mother, her past, was beginning to unravel before him. The man's figure loomed over him like a tangible threat, something he could no longer ignore.
"And that group," the man said, his smile turning darker, almost showing a twisted satisfaction, "the same one your parents tried to destroy time and time again, but was always stronger. They always managed to hurt them, but never defeat them. That group now..."
He leaned in towards Max, his eyes glowing with a chilling intensity. His voice turned cold as ice, cutting through the silence of the room with precision.
"They are one step away from taking revenge on their enemies."
Max felt the weight of his words like a burden. With a sinister grin, the man got even closer, until Max could hear his whisper, his words like knives to the throat:
"Hail Hydra."