Chapter 29: Chapter 29: Fury's Headaches
Director Nick Fury's single eye was fixed on the tablet in his hand, scrolling through encrypted reports. Across from him, Agent Phil Coulson stood at attention, ready to deliver the latest intelligence.
"Sir," Coulson began, his voice steady, "one of the mercenaries we hired has given us some information about the Ten Rings."
Fury's gaze flicked up, his interest piqued. "Go on," he said, setting the tablet down.
Coulson tapped a few commands into his own device, pulling up a classified file. "The mercenary, going by the name Hound, has reported that the Ten Rings have been operating for thousands of years. Their leader is supposedly based somewhere in Tibet, China. Most of their members bear a specific tattoo." He swiped the screen, and an image appeared—a circular design with ten interlocking rings, intricate and unmistakable.
Fury leaned forward, his eye narrowing as he studied the photo. His mind raced, connecting dots from years of intelligence work.
"Are you sure it's this tattoo?" he asked, his voice low, almost a growl. "I've seen this mark before, Coulson. On people who shouldn't have it—senators, CEOs, even a few foreign diplomats. If this is accurate, we've severely underestimated the Ten Rings."
Coulson nodded, his face grim. "That's not all, sir. According to Hound, the group that attacked Tony Stark in Afghanistan wasn't the real Ten Rings. He claims it was a false flag operation—a diversion. The real Ten Rings, he says, wouldn't have been so sloppy."
Fury's jaw tightened. He leaned back in his chair, his fingers drumming against the armrest. "A diversion," he muttered, his mind spinning through possibilities.
'Why divert us? What are they hiding?' He considered the geopolitical implications. Stark's kidnapping had sent shockwaves through the global defense community.
Stark Industries was a linchpin in military technology, and Tony Stark himself was a strategic asset. Someone stood to gain from his absence, but who?
"Russia?" Fury mused aloud, then shook his head. "No, they're too busy with their own internal mess. China? Unlikely—they'd want Stark's tech, not his death."
His thoughts spiraled, considering corporate rivals, rogue states, even internal factions within the U.S. government. Then, a name surfaced, unbidden but chillingly plausible.
'Obadiah Stane.' Stark's right-hand man at Stark Industries, a man with access, motive, and the cunning to pull off such a scheme.
If the Ten Rings were a front, Stane could be the puppet master, orchestrating the kidnapping to seize control of the company.
Fury's eye widened, a rare crack in his stoic facade. "I see," he said softly, almost to himself. "It's like that." But the realization came with a bitter edge. Without concrete proof, accusing Stane would be career suicide.
The military and the Security Council would dismiss it as speculation, especially so soon after Stark's disappearance. SHIELD's influence was vast, but it wasn't limitless. "I'll have to wait," he concluded.
Coulson, sensing the shift in Fury's demeanor, shifted gears. "Sir, there's more on Hound. I've got his file here." He handed Fury a slim folder, its edges worn from frequent handling.
Fury opened it, scanning the contents with practiced efficiency. "Started six months ago, huh?" he noted, his tone laced with skepticism. "And completed this many missions without a single failure? Espionage, spying, stealing documents, assassination—this guy's a one-man black ops unit."
His eye lingered on a particular entry, and his brow furrowed. "Eliminated an entire Mexican cartel led by Pierro Dicosta in a single night?"
Coulson nodded. "That's correct, sir. Dicosta was no small player. Intel suggests he had at least fifty armed men under his command, plus a fortified compound. Hound took them all out. Alone."
Fury let out a low whistle, a rare display of surprise. "Fifty men in one night? Either this guy's the best operative I've never heard of, or…" He trailed off, his mind circling back to a term SHIELD used sparingly. "Enhanced?"
"We believe he might be," Coulson admitted. "But we have no proof. No medical records, no genetic anomalies on file. Just results."
Fury closed the folder, his expression unreadable. "Get this man under our contact. If he's a mercenary, money talks. Offer him a deal to join SHIELD. We could use someone with his… talents."
Coulson hesitated, then spoke. "There's one more thing, sir. Our sources in the Army have picked up chatter. General Ross has taken an interest in Hound. Apparently, he thinks the man might be enhanced, too. He's tried to recruit him for his Hulk problem."
Fury's eye narrowed. "Ross and his damn green monster." He shook his head, frustration evident. "He should just take SHIELD's help instead of playing cowboy. What's he planning?"
Coulson sighed. "Ross doesn't think Hound's capable of neutralizing the Hulk alone, so he's pulling in other mercenaries and Army resources for support. He's going all-in on this."
Fury snorted, a rare moment of dark humor. "Good luck to him. I doubt anything less than a hundred tanks could subdue that monster. But if Hound takes the bait, it'll at least give us a chance to see what he's really capable of." He paused, his mind already shifting to strategy.
"Keep tabs on Ross's operation. If Hound's enhanced, I want to know before Ross does."
Coulson nodded. "Understood, sir."
As Coulson turned to leave, Fury called after him. "And Phil? Get me everything we have on the Ten Rings' leadership. If they're in Tibet, I want satellite imagery, local contacts, anything we can dig up. This isn't just about Stark anymore."
Fury thought 'These ten rings tattoos should have been easy to identify and could easily be connected to ten ring members. But then why did not we have this information until now? Unless someone in SHIELD does not want us to find about the Ten Rings and stop their operations. But why?'
---Author Notes---------
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