Nick Fury blinked.
Then blinked again.
Surely he'd heard that wrong.
The man who had publicly beaten both the Hulk and Abomination into submission was now a member of the World Security Council?
Not only that, he would be directly overseeing matters related to S.H.I.E.L.D.?
It sounded absurd.
Unfortunately, it was also reality.
Fury forced himself to maintain a professional expression.
"Director Valen."
"Director Fury."
Drex Valen smiled pleasantly.
The conversation began with a brief discussion of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s recent operations. After a few minutes, the other Council members signed off one by one.
They all had responsibilities to attend to.
All except Drex.
Soon, only the two of them remained connected.
Fury studied him carefully.
During his years as Director, he had memorized the backgrounds of every influential figure connected to the World Security Council.
Potential future members.
Political power players.
Intelligence chiefs.
Military leaders.
He knew them all.
But Drex Valen?
He had appeared out of nowhere.
One day he was unknown.
The next, he was sitting on the Council.
That wasn't normal.
Not even by Fury's standards.
"Is there anything else, Director Valen?"
Fury finally asked.
Being scrutinized by the world's most famous one-eyed spy tended to make people uncomfortable.
Drex didn't seem affected.
Instead, his expression cooled.
"Director Fury."
"You've disappointed me."
The statement landed like a hammer.
Fury's eye narrowed.
"I don't agree."
"Oh?"
Drex glanced sideways.
A figure standing partially out of frame behind Fury shifted slightly.
Bodyguard.
Agent.
Observer.
Whatever the role, Drex ignored it.
Several files suddenly appeared on Fury's display.
Mutant conflicts.
Reports involving Magneto.
Damage assessments.
Civilian casualties.
Property losses.
The usual cycle of Magneto causing trouble and Professor X trying to stop him.
More files followed.
The recent battle between the Hulk and Abomination.
The destruction of Manhattan.
Emergency response reports.
Drex looked directly at Fury.
"Is S.H.I.E.L.D. understaffed?"
Fury frowned.
"No."
"Underfunded?"
That question gave Fury pause.
Nobody ever complained about having too much money.
If another Council member had asked, he might have immediately started listing budget shortages.
In fact, he had already begun formulating several convincing arguments.
Budget cuts.
Equipment costs.
Operational expenses.
The usual.
Then Drex interrupted his train of thought.
"So funding isn't the issue either."
The words jammed themselves neatly into Fury's mouth before he could speak.
Drex folded his hands.
"Then why are the results so poor?"
"The public feels unsafe."
"Every day they wake up wondering whether some catastrophe is going to drop out of the sky and destroy their city."
"The people are disappointed."
Fury's eye twitched.
Most civilians didn't even know S.H.I.E.L.D. existed.
But Drex was already in full motion.
There was no stopping him.
"You've spent enormous amounts of money."
"And what do you have to show for it?"
"Does that not bother you?"
Drex looked genuinely pained.
As if the funding had come directly from his own pocket.
Inside his head, Fury was inventing several new curse words.
Outwardly, he remained calm.
Arguing with a superior rarely ended well.
Especially when that superior had enough authority to make budget approvals disappear.
So Fury swallowed his irritation and apologized.
Professionally.
Politely.
Painfully.
Drex seemed pleased by the response.
Good.
The man could be taught.
Or at least managed.
Maybe.
Then Drex handed him an assignment.
Take custody of Abomination and Bruce Banner.
Surprisingly, Fury didn't think the request was insane.
Ordinarily he would have.
Normally, asking S.H.I.E.L.D. to seize two of the most dangerous beings on Earth would qualify as insanity.
But this was the same man who had beaten both of them unconscious on live television.
He had earned the right to make outrageous requests.
"The military won't agree to that," Fury replied.
"They already have."
Drex shrugged.
"I've spoken with them."
That caught Fury off guard.
Apparently the new Council member possessed more than brute strength.
Connections mattered at that level.
And nobody joined the World Security Council through raw power alone.
At least, not usually.
The transfer process proceeded far more smoothly than expected.
If anything, the U.S. military seemed eager to hand over both prisoners.
That struck Fury as deeply suspicious.
But he wasn't about to complain.
After the transfer was complete, he reported the success to Drex.
Later that day, Drex arrived at one of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s secure facilities.
The moment he stepped through the door, he shattered the atmosphere Fury had spent hours cultivating.
Drex glanced around casually.
Then asked:
"Interesting."
"I don't remember seeing this facility listed in S.H.I.E.L.D.'s official records."
He paused.
"Was it built with misappropriated funds?"
Fury nearly choked.
The question hit far too close to home.
Because technically...
Yes.
The facility wasn't officially registered.
It was one of several black-budget sites and safe houses hidden within layers of classified accounting.
"Its only purpose is temporary containment."
"It's not an official S.H.I.E.L.D. installation."
The answer came out a little too quickly.
Standing nearby, Clint Barton and Natasha Romanoff suddenly found the floor very interesting.
Both of them knew exactly how their Director handled budgets.
Neither wanted to be involved.
Drex nodded thoughtfully.
"Really?"
"I could make a phone call and determine ownership in less than five minutes."
He smiled.
"Perhaps we should conduct a comprehensive audit of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s finances while we're at it."
The room went silent.
Fury's expression darkened.
This wasn't a normal politician.
Normal politicians could be pressured.
Manipulated.
Intimidated.
Removed.
Drex was different.
After the previous night's battle, the entire world knew what he could do.
No one was sending a deranged gunman after him.
No one was arranging an unfortunate accident.
And if Drex became obsessed with auditing S.H.I.E.L.D.'s books...
Fury could easily lose his position.
Possibly much worse.
The sheer number of accounting irregularities accumulated over the years would probably keep prosecutors occupied for decades.
He exhaled slowly.
Then looked directly at Drex.
"Director Valen."
"What exactly are you trying to say?"
He already knew the answer.
Drex was offering him a choice.
The problem was that it wasn't really a choice at all.
...
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