Fury sat in his car and called Hill, telling her to prepare to head toward D.C. By now, he had basically confirmed several things. He needed to go to D.C., meet the higher-ups, and explain the situations he had discovered.
After hanging up, something felt off.
Fury glanced left and right. A police car sat beside his, its occupants staring far too intently. More importantly, the traffic around him was unnaturally sparse. Under normal circumstances, he wouldn't have cared. It wasn't rush hour, after all. But after everything involving Noah, he had grown jumpy.
And to be fair, caution was one of Fury's strongest survival traits.
He observed carefully and immediately realized something was wrong. Another police car suddenly roared up alongside him.
This was bad.
"Motherf*cker. Looks like I poked the hornet's nest," Fury cursed inwardly and floored the accelerator. His customized vehicle surged forward, forcing the two police cars to collide behind him.
He didn't relax.
If they dared move on him, it meant they were prepared. Fury scanned his surroundings again. SUVs appeared from multiple directions. Even special forces units were being deployed.
His hands went cold.
These people had made up their minds.
The only thing that gave him slight comfort was that these didn't look like S.H.I.E.L.D. task forces. If they were, he would already be dead.
Grinding his teeth, Fury accelerated again and plunged into the downtown area. The pursuers didn't hesitate. They even opened fire into crowded streets.
"Reckless bastards," Fury cursed silently.
While weaving through traffic, he began making calls. Unlike the original timeline, his car hadn't been damaged yet. Every system still worked. He could activate flight mode and escape, but if he did, they would escalate even harder.
S.H.I.E.L.D.'s refusal to negotiate had always been tied to him.
So Fury decided to respond.
If they dared to target the sitting Director, then they were either desperate or completely unrestrained. In that case, he would remind them exactly who the Director of S.H.I.E.L.D. was.
"Connect me to Steve Rogers… no, wait," Fury paused. "Connect me to Noah Fenrir."
He had considered the Avengers. But his control over them was already thin, and with this happening, who knew how they would interpret it. Noah, at least, was still out "experiencing life."
That made him reliable.
"So, you're being hunted now?" Noah asked into the phone, his expression strange. "What evil deeds did you commit this time?"
He was genuinely curious.
The yacht incident was understandable. That had clearly been Fury's doing. And Noah had warned him. So why keep pushing his luck?
Noah could easily guess Fury had gone to probe or pressure that Pierce guy.
Project Insight wasn't Fury's project. It belonged to the parasites embedded within S.H.I.E.L.D. And they would never allow it to be destroyed. Anyone who threatened it would be eliminated without hesitation.
Noah doubted Fury fully understood how important Insight was to Hydra.
He rubbed his chin, listening to the gunfire and Fury's repeatedly emphasized "motherf*cker" over the phone.
"You want me to save you?" Noah asked.
"Yes!" Fury shouted. "If you don't come, I'm done for!"
"Then drive toward the Continental Hotel."
"Damn it. You infiltrated the High Table?"
"More or less. Do this. You head here. I'll bring John and Jason to you."
"I'm about twelve blocks away. I'll get there as fast as I can," Fury said urgently. "If you can use magic, do it. You're the only one I called."
The line went dead.
Noah stared at the phone.
This idiot didn't even think about it. Without magic, how was Noah supposed to track him? There were at least four or five routes to the hotel alone. Fury was clearly panicking.
After a brief pause, a faint golden glow appeared between Noah's fingers. The glow stretched into a thin golden thread before slowly fading.
Noah nodded to himself.
Others couldn't see it. He could.
He pressed the elevator button. The elevator, which had just reached the eighth floor, began moving again. Noah rubbed his chin. This time, he might run into Captain America's old flame.
He considered his options.
Let him go.
Capture him.
Or end it with a single bullet.
Any would work. It just depended on his mood.
"I'm just saying," Constantine muttered, cigarette in hand, "isn't your S.H.I.E.L.D. friend a bit unreliable? He's a director. How is he getting hunted down?"
"It means he's incompetent," Noah replied calmly. "And S.H.I.E.L.D. changed owners a long time ago. What do you expect him to do?"
"Oh?" Constantine tilted his head, then laughed. "So my promise was empty?"
"You knew?" Noah laughed as well. "You're a trickster. Don't pretend."
"Funny. I feel like I'm the one getting tricked every time."
"Really? Doesn't feel that way to me."
Jason listened in silence, thoroughly helpless. He wanted to remind them they didn't have a car. He never got the chance.
Fortunately, their luck held. They reached the first floor just as Wick came up from the basement.
Wick hesitated when he heard they were going to save someone. Winston had already given him Viggo's location. He knew it was a trap. And if he delayed now—
"If you don't want to come, just lend us your car," Noah said casually. "Some idiot fell into an internal power struggle and is getting assassinated. Help if you want. If not, forget it."
"Who is it?" Wick asked, frowning.
"The former director and the current director aren't on the same side," Noah explained after a moment. "The current one tried to clean things up. The former struck first. Now an idiot is racing through New York."
That was enough.
Wick nodded.
Viggo could wait. If he saved a S.H.I.E.L.D. director, his future would be safer. Noah didn't give him a sense of safety, but something far more dangerous.
A thrill.
Wick disliked it. He wanted stability. Saving this director might buy that.
They moved quickly. With Noah leading, they set off. Three blocks later, they saw a black Chevrolet swerving wildly, chased by multiple black vehicles.
"Looks like him," Noah said after a glance.
Fury wasn't injured. But he was definitely being humiliated.
They parked. All four got out with weapons ready. As the pursuing cars closed in, Noah calmly raised his handgun.
Living life didn't mean avoiding magic completely. Just not using it openly was enough.
He pulled the trigger.
Time seemed to slow.
With a subtle adjustment, Noah fired.
"Bang. Bang. Bang."
Nine shots.
No recoil. No strain.
The chasing vehicles lost control and slammed into the roadside.
Otherwise, it would've looked like blanks.
"…Damn," Wick muttered.
High-speed targets. Rapid fire. Zero recoil.
Who was this guy?
Fury noticed too. He glanced at the wrecked cars, then at Noah casually reloading. Relief washed over him.
He pulled over, parked, and jumped out. Smooth. Efficient.
He had found his savior.
"Listen, Noah," Fury said quickly. "If you still want to play around, we should leave. They've got more people coming."
"It's fine," Noah replied. "Too few people isn't fun."
"Damn it, are you serious?" Fury snapped. "They won't stop. I should gather my men—"
"It's fine," Noah said calmly. "I've got a feeling something interesting is about to happen."
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