[Location: S.A.B.E.R. Space Station, High Orbit]
[Perspective: Nick Fury]
Space was silent. It was the only thing Nick Fury liked about it. Down on Earth, noise was the currency… politicians screaming, tires screeching and things exploding. Up here, you could watch the world burn in high definition without hearing the screams.
But right now, the silence was pissing him off.
Fury stood on the observation deck, his single eye fixed on the massive monitor that dominated the wall. It was showing a satellite feed of the Mojave Desert.
Or rather, what used to be a classified sector of the Mojave Desert.
"Report," Fury barked, not turning around.
Maria Hill (or the Skrull currently wearing her face) stepped up beside him. Her tablet was glowing with data streams that were mostly red.
"It's gone, sir," she said. Her voice was professional but Fury could hear the tension. "Thermal imaging shows a heat signature consistent with a localized solar event. But the radiation levels are... negligible. It's clean."
"Clean," Fury repeated, the word tasting like ash. "You don't get a crater that size from a gas leak, Hill. That was an instantaneous massive energy discharge."
He turned to face her.
"My assets?"
Hill looked down at the tablet, then back at him.
"Agent Miller. Agent Chen. Agent Rodriguez," she listed. "All bio signs flatlined at 15:14 EST. The moment of detonation. They were inside the perimeter."
"Of course they were inside," he said softly. "Because I sent them there. To find out what the hell Tyler Hayward was doing with billions of dollars of off book funding."
"It appears he was playing with fire," Hill said. "And he got burned."
"He wasn't just playing with fire," Fury growled, walking over to the holographic table in the center of the room. He swiped his hand, bringing up a schematic. "He was playing with Stark tech. We intercepted the supply manifests three months ago. ARC reactor cores. Vibranium synthesizers. And a cryogenic transport unit large enough to hold a humanoid."
He stared at the schematic.
"He was trying to bring Vision back online," Fury muttered. "The idiot thought he could hotwire a Mind Stone powered synthezoid with a glorified car battery."
"And it overloaded," Hill concluded. "The ARC matrix couldn't handle the vibranium resonance. It went critical."
"It vaporized my agents," Fury slammed his hand on the table. "It vaporized the evidence. And now, Hayward is down there, standing in the ashes, probably already drafting a press release to blame it on a meteor."
He looked back at the screen, at the smoking hole in the ground.
"Get a team on the ground," Fury ordered. "I want physical samples. I want to know exactly how badly Hayward screwed up."
"Sir," Hill warned. "Hayward will interpret that as an act of aggression. SWORD and SABER are already... tense."
"Let him interpret," Fury said, his eye cold. "He just killed three of my people with his science fair project. If he wants a war, I'll drop this station on his head."
[Location: SWORD Blast Site, Mojave Desert]
[Perspective: Director Tyler Hayward]
Tyler Hayward stood at the edge of the crater. His suit jacket was flapping in the hot desert wind.
"Director."
Hayward didn't look away from the crater.
"Director, the secure line is set up," the aide stammered. "The White House is on hold."
"Tell them I'm in a decontamination shower," Hayward lied, his voice hollow. "Tell them... tell them anything. Just buy me ten minutes."
"Yes, sir."
The aide scurried away.
Hayward stared at the nothingness.
It's gone, he thought, a cold sweat breaking out on his back despite the desert heat. Project Cataract. The billions in black budget. Gone.
He had been in D.C. when the alert came in.
He had survived. But his career was currently vaporizing faster than the facility had.
"They'll hang me," he whispered to the wind. "The Accords violation alone... I'll be in the Raft by dinnertime."
He needed a way out. He couldn't say, 'I reanimated a multi billion dollar sentient weapon in direct violation of the Accords and it blew up because I used cheap wiring.'
"Director!"
Another agent ran up to him. This one was holding a tablet encased in a rugged shell.
"We recovered a perimeter drone," the agent panted. "It was shielded by the bunker wall. The footage is corrupted, but... we found something."
Hayward snatched the tablet. "Show me."
The agent tapped the screen. A distorted video played.
It showed the perimeter fence, minutes before the blast.
The camera zoomed in.
Three figures. They were wearing tactical gear. They were moving with professional precision, bypassing the locks.
"Who are they?" Hayward demanded.
"Facial recognition got a partial hit on one," the agent said. "Agent Rodriguez. Formerly SHIELD. Currently listed as 'Inactive'."
"Inactive," he spat. "That's code for Fury."
He watched the footage again. The agents breached the facility. Five minutes later... White out. The video cut to static.
A realization dawned on Hayward. Or rather, a convenient lie that felt like salvation.
"It wasn't an accident," Hayward whispered, his eyes widening.
"Sir?"
"My scientists... they were the best," Hayward said, his voice gaining strength. "They wouldn't make a mistake like this. The containment field was stable. The ARC core was stable."
He looked at the agent.
"Fury," Hayward hissed. "He sent them in."
"Sir, Agent Rodriguez is..."
"He's a spy!" Hayward shouted. "Fury knew about Cataract. He wanted the tech for himself. Or he wanted to shut us down because we were getting too powerful. He sent his goons in to tamper with the core. They didn't know what they were doing and they blew the whole thing to hell."
"Sir, that's a... that's a heavy accusation," the agent warned. "Accusing SABER of domestic terrorism..."
"Look at the crater!" Hayward pointed a shaking finger at the hole. "You think that was a glitch? Fury took out my asset. He took out my people."
Hayward straightened his jacket. He smoothed his hair.
"Get me the President," he ordered, his voice cold. "Forget the shower excuse. Tell him we were attacked. Tell him... tell him we have evidence of a SABER incursion."