Chapter 593

"If you don’t mind me asking... what exactly are you people doing?"

Evenson teleported back to the aircraft after dealing with the pyramid.

The moment he arrived, however, he was greeted by a scene so bizarre that he genuinely wondered whether he’d stepped into the wrong reality.

Ward, Skye, Simmons, and Fitz had all been restrained to varying degrees.

Melinda lay on the floor nearby with her hands bound behind her back, apparently unconscious.

Evenson stared.

I discovered a few disturbing things inside that pyramid, and the world immediately decided to become even more insane?

"Whoa!"

Fitz nearly jumped out of his restraints when Evenson suddenly appeared.

Melinda, meanwhile, spoke without moving.

"Took you long enough."

Only then did she slowly open her eyes.

She glared at everyone around her.

"And nobody ever discusses me behind my back again. Especially not by calling me the Cavalry."

The reason for her irritation quickly became apparent.

While the team had been tied up, Skye had lamented that if Melinda hadn’t been busy piloting the aircraft, she could have turned the entire situation around and prevented them from being captured.

Fitz and Simmons hadn’t believed her.

As far as they knew, Melinda had been transferred from an administrative department. They’d assumed she was essentially a desk agent with little combat experience.

Ward, however, had corrected that misconception.

And, unfortunately, he’d also brought up the nickname Melinda hated most.

The Cavalry.

"Okay, guys."

Evenson looked around the cabin.

He finally understood that they weren’t playing some bizarre game.

They had genuinely gotten themselves into trouble.

"Someone want to tell me what happened?"

"Reyes," Melinda said.

She shifted slightly against the floor.

"Camilla Reyes. The Peruvian military commander. She and her people took us hostage. They’re after the 084 artifact we recovered."

Melinda explained what had happened.

Once Camilla had boarded the aircraft, she’d gone into one of the rooms with Coulson under the pretense of catching up with an old acquaintance.

Meanwhile, her soldiers had spread throughout the aircraft.

They’d behaved perfectly amicably toward the SHIELD personnel, but that friendliness had been an act.

Their actual objective had been to quietly seize control of the aircraft.

Coulson and Ward had realized what was happening and attempted to respond, but the situation was heavily stacked against them.

There were simply too many noncombatants aboard.

Skye and the members of the science team had been captured one after another.

Eventually, Coulson and Ward had been forced to surrender as well.

Evenson listened.

Then slowly shook his head.

As if the universe had decided the situation wasn’t humiliating enough, a Peruvian soldier appeared on the upper level of the aircraft and began making his way through the cabin.

He hadn’t even figured out why there was suddenly an extra person standing in the aircraft when Evenson casually waved one hand without looking back.

The soldier’s body went limp.

He tumbled over the railing.

By sheer bad luck—or perhaps remarkable good luck, depending on one’s perspective—he landed headfirst.

Crack.

His neck broke instantly.

Evenson looked at the others.

"So let me get this straight."

He covered his eyes with one hand.

"You were on your own aircraft, and a group of unarmed Peruvian soldiers managed to capture an entire SHIELD field team."

He lowered his hand.

"Please tell me you’re not actually a troop of Boy Scouts wearing SHIELD badges."

He sighed.

"I don’t think I’ve ever been this embarrassed to work with people."

Peru was a difficult subject.

Evenson didn’t want to sound prejudiced, but the country wasn’t exactly renowned for having the world’s most intimidating military.

And yet somehow, SHIELD’s elite field team had been taken down by them on their own turf.

Ward’s face turned a shade darker.

As the team’s primary combat operative, he took Evenson’s words personally.

"They clearly planned this in advance."

His voice was tight.

"During the assault, their people were organized and moved almost simultaneously. That level of coordination doesn’t happen by accident. They couldn’t have improvised it after boarding the aircraft, either. They deliberately avoided gathering together because they didn’t want us to become suspicious."

He frowned.

"So how did they coordinate their assignments? Telepathy?"

Evenson raised an eyebrow.

Ward continued.

"They must have started planning the operation as soon as they learned SHIELD was coming to retrieve the 084. And the rebel attack at the pyramid may have been part of the same plan."

Evenson listened quietly.

When Ward finished, he gave him a calm look.

"Agent Ward."

"Yes, sir?"

"Don’t make excuses for yourself."

Ward’s expression stiffened.

"The enemy isn’t going to wait until you’re ready before they attack."

Ward swallowed his frustration and nodded.

"Understood, sir."

As an operative trained for combat in the field, he knew Evenson was right.

Reacting under pressure mattered far more than explaining everything afterward.

If you couldn’t adapt when the bullets started flying, there wouldn’t be an afterward.

Anyone could be a genius after the fact.

History books made it easy to sit safely in the present and explain exactly what some long-dead general should have done.

Put that same person back in the middle of the battlefield, without the benefit of hindsight, and he’d probably discover that even the least competent historical ruler had been operating with considerably more information than he was.

"Actually, this is partly your fault."

Melinda suddenly glared at Evenson.

"If you hadn’t insisted that I not use my abilities, things would have gone very differently."

Her eyes narrowed.

"One round of martial arts and these people would have been dancing on the floor for the rest of their lives. I wouldn’t have needed to fake being unconscious and let them drag me around like a sack of potatoes."

She paused.

"And if you weren’t going to let me fight, you could have done something yourself."

"But no."

She looked toward him accusingly.

"You had to stay behind at that ridiculous pyramid. What were you even doing in there for so long?"

Her expression became even more pointed.

"With your luck, you could sacrifice yourself on the spot and still somehow fail to draw a decent artifact."

Evenson gave her a helpless shrug.

"Fine. This one is on me."

He glanced at the restraints around her wrists.

"But are you going to keep waiting for me to untie you, Cavalry?"

Snap.

Melinda broke the restraints around her wrists with a single movement.

"I told you. I hate that nickname."

"Really?"

Evenson’s eyes drifted upward as he tried not to smile.

"But, in certain respects, you really do live up to the name."

"Hmph!"

Melinda gave him a murderous look and immediately turned her attention to freeing everyone else.

Meanwhile, Coulson was still restrained on the other side of the aircraft, tied to a metal support pipe.

He hadn’t stopped trying to persuade Camilla to surrender.

If she called off the operation now, he assured her, he would be willing to overlook what had happened out of consideration for their previous relationship.

More importantly, Coulson still couldn’t figure out what Peru actually hoped to accomplish.

It wasn’t as though no country dared challenge SHIELD.

There were countries willing to push back.

But the ones that pushed the hardest were the world’s five major powers.

They could repeatedly cross SHIELD’s red lines, step back, cross them again, and practically shout, Go ahead. Do something about it.

And they had the power to back up that attitude.

The World Security Council—the organization that ultimately oversaw SHIELD—was dominated by representatives from those five permanent member states.

They had every reason to believe they could get away with a little defiance.

But Peru?

Coulson stared at Camilla.

What exactly makes you think you can do this?

That was the part he couldn’t understand.

Why was Peru willing to challenge SHIELD this openly?

There had to be a reason.