Chapter 856

The alien corpse never turned up.

Instead, the excavation team found an alien communication device.

It wasn’t the discovery they’d come to Tahiti for, but it was significant enough to report to Evenson immediately.

His response, however, was surprisingly lukewarm.

"Secure it carefully and bring it back. We can study it later."

Then came the part Moira found even more confusing.

"You’ve been there long enough. If you haven’t found anything else, wrap things up and come back. Don’t stay longer than necessary. We don’t know what might happen if you drag this out."

Moira frowned.

"What happened? Is there some kind of emergency?"

When Evenson had first dragged her out of the laboratory and sent her here, he’d practically been vibrating with anticipation. Now, barely any time had passed, and he sounded like he couldn’t care less.

"Something did happen," Evenson replied. "We’re just not sure what it means yet. Either way, don’t take too long."

The incident had come completely out of nowhere.

Half an hour earlier, the Black Chapter had received an urgent transmission from the U.S. military. Military satellites had detected sudden, extremely high energy readings over California and Nevada.

The wavelength was remarkably similar to energy signatures previously detected in New Mexico and London.

In other words—

The Bifrost.

The military had therefore reached a straightforward conclusion: Asgardians had returned to Earth, and they were somewhere inside the United States.

The U.S. government had immediately forwarded the intelligence to the Black Chapter and ordered them to conduct the initial investigation.

Evenson paced around the room with the authorization papers in one hand and the energy-analysis report in the other. As he finished each page, he casually dropped it onto the floor.

Salorass noticed the growing pile, frowned, and immediately crouched down to collect every sheet.

Once she’d restored the documents to the desk, she rested her chin on one hand and thought for a moment before smiling.

"The U.S. government actually handed this directly to us. That’s unusual."

Since the Black Chapter had been established, the government had granted them considerable authority, but intelligence had always been something they gathered themselves.

Most of it came through public tip lines. At most, local police departments and the FBI would forward suspicious cases for evaluation. Even CIA intelligence was generally kept away from the Black Chapter.

A direct order from the military’s upper command was therefore highly unusual.

And there was another reason.

The Black Chapter had originally been created to combat bioterrorism and enhanced-human threats—people who possessed human-enhancement technology but had apparently decided that using it for crime was more entertaining than using it to make money.

This case was different.

It was an international matter. Technically, it fell outside the Black Chapter’s jurisdiction.

Yet the government had deliberately handed it to them.

The reason wasn’t difficult to guess.

Salorass lifted one foot.

Evenson immediately walked over and began massaging the sole.

It was an arrangement they’d established long ago: in human form, he massaged their feet. In demon form, he rubbed their calves.

Salorass closed her eyes in contentment.

"The government liaison was unusually honest with us."

"Earlier this year, S.H.I.E.L.D.’s budget request was already significantly higher than previous years. Now, less than six months later, they’re asking for another increase."

"And the government pays the majority of that bill."

She paused.

"They ran the numbers. S.H.I.E.L.D. has already spent more in the first half of this year than it did during the previous two years combined."

Evenson raised an eyebrow.

"That much?"

"That much."

The government hadn’t budgeted for anything remotely close to those expenses. Several domestic programs had already been forced to make cuts.

Eventually, the president had been left with an unpleasant choice.

One of the administration’s campaign promises—a nationwide comprehensive healthcare program scheduled to launch that year—had been postponed until the following year.

And that wasn’t all.

Olessesys lifted one foot and, apparently unwilling to wait her turn, shoved it toward Evenson.

He sighed and used both hands.

"The government is also worried this level of S.H.I.E.L.D. spending will become permanent. Or worse, keep increasing."

"So they’re planning ahead."

"Exactly. They’re considering raising the existing tax on the wealthy by another percentage point."

She gave him a pointed look.

"Break a campaign promise. Delay a major public program. Raise taxes. Upset both ordinary voters and wealthy donors."

"In other words, this administration has managed to make itself miserable because of S.H.I.E.L.D."

"Ross even told me privately that the president probably won’t survive the next election."

Evenson chuckled.

"That’s harsh."

"The Republican Party apparently intends to replace him as their candidate in the next election to protect their congressional seats. They’ve already got someone in mind. A real-estate businessman."

She paused.

"What was his name again? Donald something?"

Evenson smiled.

"Donald Trump."

"Right."

"He’s certainly unpredictable, and his personality is... energetic. But at least he’s an America-first nationalist. He isn’t likely to casually surrender ground to S.H.I.E.L.D."

"There was even talk of having Ross run."

"But his old scandals make that difficult, and his relationship with S.H.I.E.L.D. is already far too hostile. The idea was dropped."

"Oh."

Evenson finished gathering the papers and placed them neatly on the desk.

"So the government wants to push back against S.H.I.E.L.D., but doesn’t want to openly declare war on them."

"Exactly."

"So they’ve decided to dump the responsibility on us instead."

It made sense.

Even without a special assignment, S.H.I.E.L.D. would almost certainly have investigated the energy readings. Most U.S. military satellites already shared intelligence with S.H.I.E.L.D., and the organization had satellites of its own.

S.H.I.E.L.D. almost certainly knew about the anomaly already.

Which was precisely why the government didn’t want them handling it.

When S.H.I.E.L.D. had first expanded into an international organization, the United States had invested heavily in its creation. The original idea had been to build something resembling a United Nations for the intelligence community.

The goal had been simple: give the United States a legitimate mechanism for influencing and interfering with foreign intelligence operations.

That was why S.H.I.E.L.D.’s headquarters had been established on American soil.

That was why the United States had provided the majority of its funding.

Unfortunately, political institutions weren’t particularly good at controlling intelligence agencies.

And S.H.I.E.L.D. had grown.

During its early years, the organization had at least remembered who had helped build it. The relationship had been mutually beneficial.

But as S.H.I.E.L.D.’s privileges expanded, it became increasingly difficult for the government to control.

Eventually, the organization had become too powerful to casually push aside.

Take satellite intelligence.

American military satellites were expected to share their information with S.H.I.E.L.D.

But information collected by S.H.I.E.L.D.?

That was treated like a family heirloom.

Locked away. Guarded. Never shared.

The United States had spent years playing exactly that game with everyone else.

Now the same strategy was being used against them.

The government wasn’t amused.

Then came the New Mexico incident.

An alien prince had arrived on American soil.

S.H.I.E.L.D. had known about it and kept the entire matter hidden from the government.

When the situation finally escalated, S.H.I.E.L.D. demanded that the United States deploy troops to fight an extraterrestrial killer.

Fine.

The government sent the troops.

Then, after the battle, S.H.I.E.L.D. publicly disclosed the existence of the Destroyer armor to foreign governments—and proceeded to pack up the alien technology and take it away.

Not even a share.

Not even a piece of the salvage.

The United States had paid the bills, provided the soldiers, and absorbed the risks.

S.H.I.E.L.D. took the prize.

It was difficult not to feel insulted.

You could at least leave us a piece of the meat.

But no.

They took the entire pot.

The United States had helped turn S.H.I.E.L.D. into an international power and had received very little in return.

Worse, it now had to deal with the consequences.

Unfortunately, Washington couldn’t simply cut S.H.I.E.L.D. loose.

Too many things still depended on them.

Which was almost comical when you looked at the pattern.

Earth had billions of people and hundreds of countries.

Yet whenever a terrorist organization became powerful enough to cause real trouble, there was a remarkably high chance they were targeting America, had deep connections to America, or both.

Aliens weren’t much better.

They could ignore Earth for decades.

Then they’d show up and attack the United States.

Or one of its allies.

The British prime minister had even privately called the president after the Dark Elf incident and asked whether the United States had somehow invited the Dark Elves to London.

The president had apparently come close to crying from sheer injustice.

So Washington tolerated S.H.I.E.L.D.

But tolerance had limits.

And the government had reached the point where those limits were rapidly approaching.

That was one of the reasons the Black Chapter had been granted unusual authority when it was founded.

The Aredar twins had promised to share any captured advanced technology with the United States.

More importantly, the government hoped the Black Chapter could become a counterweight to S.H.I.E.L.D.

Ideally, it would eventually be capable of performing the same functions.

If that happened, Washington could finally stop depending on S.H.I.E.L.D.

So far, the experiment had gone rather well.

The Black Chapter had handled several enhanced-human attacks and had repeatedly performed at least as well as S.H.I.E.L.D.—and sometimes better.

Especially the most recent incident.

A certain anonymous concerned citizen had informed them that a senior S.H.I.E.L.D. agent—one of Nick Fury’s right-hand men—had been kidnapped by a group of bioterrorists.

The Black Chapter had immediately verified the intelligence, deployed elite agents, stormed the enemy’s position, and rescued him.

It had been an embarrassing day for S.H.I.E.L.D.

And that "anonymous concerned citizen" was particularly amusing.

A senior S.H.I.E.L.D. agent had been kidnapped.

This wasn’t the president’s toaster going missing.

Everybody knew.

The Black Chapter had almost certainly developed an informant inside S.H.I.E.L.D.

That was what Washington wanted to see.

Results.

Competence.

And, perhaps most importantly, restraint.

The Black Chapter hadn’t behaved like a newly formed agency desperate to prove itself. It hadn’t picked a fight with S.H.I.E.L.D. or tried to publicly humiliate them.

It simply kept accomplishing things.

Even when it stole the spotlight from S.H.I.E.L.D., it did so cleanly enough that S.H.I.E.L.D. couldn’t openly complain.

Sometimes they even had to say thank you.

A department that could solve problems without creating political disasters was extremely valuable.

But the government still had one unanswered question.

Could the Black Chapter handle extraterrestrial affairs?

They had proven themselves against enhanced humans.

That was one thing.

Asgardians were another.

There was too much at stake to simply assume they could do it.

And without a successful example, S.H.I.E.L.D. could always use that uncertainty as an excuse to retain its position.

Now, however, Washington had been handed an opportunity.

An Asgardian had appeared on Earth.

Inside the United States.

Why not use the situation to test the Black Chapter?

They didn’t even need to outperform S.H.I.E.L.D. by much.

If they could simply handle the incident as effectively as S.H.I.E.L.D. would, the government could begin transferring S.H.I.E.L.D.’s domestic responsibilities to the Black Chapter.

Then they could quietly sideline S.H.I.E.L.D.

Stop funding them.

Reduce their privileges.

And, once the next administration took office, gradually withdraw from the S.H.I.E.L.D. Accords entirely.

Washington was confident it wouldn’t be alone.

Other nations were already unhappy with S.H.I.E.L.D.

If the United States withdrew first, others would likely follow.

And once enough countries left, S.H.I.E.L.D. would be an international organization in name only.

It was a reasonable plan.

Unfortunately, it was built on one bad assumption.

The government was so eager to see the Black Chapter compete with S.H.I.E.L.D. that it had made a mistake during its initial analysis.

Once the intelligence reached the Black Chapter, they conducted their own comparison.

The result was interesting.

The energy signature was indeed similar to the Bifrost.

But not identical.

And while the energy output was extremely high, it was nowhere near the level produced by the Bifrost.

The difference was roughly equivalent to comparing a high-speed express train with a battered old train that had changed tracks halfway through the journey.

Evenson’s eyes narrowed.

"Loki’s passage."

That was the only explanation that made sense.

During the Dark Elf invasion, Loki had used a secret route to bring Thor out of Asgard.

If someone could use that route now, they probably weren’t exactly traveling with Asgard’s permission.

Evenson smiled.

"This probably isn’t going to be a friendly visit."

If the person’s identity could be openly revealed, there would be no reason to sneak through a hidden passage.

And if they knew about a secret route that wasn’t common knowledge, they almost certainly had some connection to Loki.

Which meant—

A prisoner.

Evenson’s eyes lit up.

During the Dark Elf invasion, the Cursed Warriors had damaged the Asgardian prison and released nearly all of its prisoners except Loki.

Most had been recaptured.

Some had died horribly after becoming sacrifices for Evenson’s magic.

But there was no guarantee every prisoner had been caught.

And anyone capable of learning the location of Loki’s secret passage certainly wasn’t an ordinary criminal.

Somebody had escaped.

Evenson relaxed.

"This isn’t urgent."

"The military disagrees."

Olessesys smiled and raised her other foot, brushing it lightly against Evenson’s arm.

"They’ve even hinted that if we run into trouble, we can request assistance from the local military forces."

She gave him a knowing look.

"They’re making it very clear that they don’t want S.H.I.E.L.D. getting there first."

"They really thought this through."

Evenson chuckled.

"America is putting quite a lot on the table this time."

"But now that the fugitive has reached Earth, the pursuit team probably won’t be far behind."

"And S.H.I.E.L.D. will probably come looking for me soon enough."

He leaned back.

"Wouldn’t it make more sense to deal with this through both sides working together?"

"Besides, McKenna is back home visiting her family and is operating somewhere in that region."

He shrugged.

"If this is an Asgardian problem, let the Asgardians handle it."

He paused.

Then his expression suddenly became serious.

"Which means there’s one very important issue."

Olessesys waited.

Evenson spread his hands.

"I’ve already sent out all the transport ships. They’re not here."

He looked toward the horizon.

"And that place is a long way away."

"I can’t exactly make them take a bus, can I?"