Chapter 10 – The Day S.H.I.E.L.D. Backed Down
About an hour later, word came up from the Sentinel lobby that four FBI agents had entered the building and were on their way up.
Jack stood immediately the moment he heard. Brown, who had been pacing in the adjacent work area, came over as well. He still looked tense, like a coiled spring that wouldn't relax until he saw the so-called FBI walk out empty-handed.
Even Assistant Supervisor Walter Herman opened his office door and stepped outside, smoothing his tie as if this were a routine interdepartmental visit.
Locke remained seated.
He leaned back in his chair and took another sip of the coffee he hadn't finished earlier. The taste still felt off. It wasn't unpleasant, just… wrong. The bitterness hit differently now, flatter somehow. Maybe it was the vampire gene altering his sensory palette. Maybe caffeine just wasn't as appealing when your body no longer relied on circulation.
The elevator dinged.
Four figures stepped out.
Three men. One woman.
Locke recognized three of them instantly.
The man in front with the calm, almost suburban demeanor? Phil Coulson.
To his right, relaxed but alert, posture like a drawn bow? Clint Barton.
To his left, red hair, unreadable expression, every step measured? Natasha Romanoff.
And behind them—
Black sunglasses. Black coat. Black sword strapped across his back in broad daylight.
Locke's gaze sharpened.
Blade.
Of course.
He had been quietly looking for Blade for nearly a year and a half. No trace. No sightings. Now that Locke had found a vampire himself, Blade suddenly appeared like a bloodhound following scent.
Interesting timing.
Coulson walked straight toward Walter and extended his hand.
"Director Herman."
"Director Coulson."
They shook hands.
"Have you prepared the evidence and files?" Coulson asked, polite but direct.
Walter smiled faintly. "There's been a misunderstanding."
Coulson blinked once. "I'm sorry?"
Standing to the side like a human barricade, Brown spoke in a low voice. "The deceased was a mutant. The case belongs to us."
Coulson's eyes shifted toward Brown. "And you are?"
"Brown leads the field unit involved in the operation," Locke said calmly as he stepped forward to stand beside Walter.
Coulson's gaze moved to Locke now, studying him more carefully. Natasha's eyes followed, equally curious.
Walter gestured casually. "Five agents died in that operation. Brown's team."
Coulson's polite expression tightened slightly. "You just said the deceased was a mutant?"
His tone was mild, but the subtext was obvious.
We both know that's not true.
The man who died was a vampire. Worse, he was one of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s embedded assets within a vampire network. That was precisely why S.H.I.E.L.D. had responded so quickly.
Walter nodded cheerfully. "Yes. Initial classification error. Our mistake."
Coulson's smile didn't quite reach his eyes.
Blade, however, wasn't looking at Walter.
He was looking at Locke.
Locke felt it instantly. Even through sunglasses, he could sense the attention lock onto him. Predator recognizing something off about another predator.
Their gazes met.
Neither could see the other's eyes.
But something passed between them.
Then footsteps approached quickly.
Debbie hurried over from the elevator area, holding a printed lab report. Her expression was perfectly balanced between professional and slightly breathless urgency.
"Boss," she said clearly, "the lab confirmed X-gene markers in the blood sample left by Lindsay Perrin."
Silence.
Coulson and his team turned toward her.
Debbie handed the report to Locke and gave him the faintest, nearly invisible wink.
Locke glanced at the report without hesitation and passed it to Walter.
Walter skimmed it, then handed it over to Coulson. "Director Coulson, feel free to review."
Coulson took the paper.
He read.
Behind him, Barton leaned in slightly. Natasha shifted closer.
The conclusion was clear.
Confirmed presence of mutant X-gene markers.
Legitimate Sentinel laboratory seal.
Chain of custody verified.
Coulson's jaw tightened just a fraction.
Under standard federal protocol, whoever claimed jurisdiction needed evidence. Sentinel had just provided laboratory confirmation.
Could S.H.I.E.L.D. prove he was a vampire?
Yes.
Could they present that proof?
No.
S.H.I.E.L.D. operated as a firewall between the ordinary world and the extraordinary one. They did not reveal supernatural classifications lightly, especially not in official disputes with another agency whose mandate also covered "enhanced" individuals.
If they insisted publicly that the deceased was a vampire, they would need to show how they knew.
They couldn't.
Coulson handed the report back slowly.
Walter smiled again. "Sorry to trouble you."
Coulson looked at Walter. Then at Locke. Then at Brown, who was staring at him with unmasked hostility.
He could escalate.
S.H.I.E.L.D. had the leverage to seize the case by force if necessary. But was it worth damaging inter-agency balance over a single vampire asset?
Probably not.
Sentinel Special Service also dealt with extraordinary entities. There was overlap. Conflict didn't help either side.
Coulson extended his hand once more. "Apologies for the inconvenience."
Walter shook it.
Coulson turned. "Let's go."
Barton and Romanoff moved with him without comment. They had barely spoken since arriving, projecting the quiet professionalism of people used to working in shadows.
They headed toward the elevator.
But one person didn't move.
Blade remained where he stood.
The black-coated hunter's head tilted slightly as he continued looking at Locke.
The air between them seemed to grow colder.
Locke met his gaze evenly, posture relaxed, coffee cup still in hand.
Daylight suppressed him.
But it did not weaken his composure.
Blade took one slow step forward.