Chapter 623

The team had finally settled on who would go, but that didn’t mean they could put the plan into action immediately.

Their entry point was the Quinn International shareholders’ meeting, and unfortunately, Quinn hadn’t scheduled it specifically for S.H.I.E.L.D.’s convenience.

So they had no choice but to wait.

For Skye, that waiting period became an opportunity for some crash training.

This would be her first field operation. She had little practical experience, no formal field training, and a dangerous mission waiting at the other end.

Evenson wasn’t exactly optimistic about what could be accomplished in a few days.

Spycraft wasn’t something you picked up overnight. Skills came from years of training, and experience came from surviving enough situations to build it. If becoming a competent field agent were as easy as cramming before an exam, S.H.I.E.L.D. wouldn’t need an entire university to train agents.

Still, some training was better than none.

"I’m done demonstrating it. Your turn."

They were in the lower deck of the aircraft. Ward stood in front of Skye with an unloaded pistol and patiently walked her through the fundamentals of disarming an armed opponent.

"First I do this... then this... no, wait, this way."

Skye fumbled through the motions.

"This is harder than it looks."

Her movements were halfhearted at best, and she clearly wasn’t taking the lesson particularly seriously.

"Do I really need to learn this?"

"If you want to go into the field, then yes."

Ward reset his stance.

"These are basic skills every field agent needs."

Skye didn’t immediately copy him. Instead, she tried to steer the conversation somewhere else.

"Seriously, how many skills does a field agent actually need? And how long does it take to learn all of them?"

Ward lowered the pistol.

"Hmm."

He studied her expression.

"So you want to see the field-agent training manual?"

"There’s a manual?"

Skye’s interest immediately sharpened.

"I definitely want to see that."

Ward stepped away for a moment.

When he returned, he was carrying a small paperback no larger than his palm.

He handed it over.

Skye stared at the book.

"That’s the manual?"

She flipped through it, then her face slowly collapsed.

"I’m supposed to read this whole thing? That’s going to take me a month."

"Don’t get too excited."

Ward folded his arms.

"That’s just the table of contents."

Skye’s eyes widened.

"The contents?"

"The actual manual is stored digitally."

Her mouth twitched.

"So just reading the thing could take years."

Ward put one hand behind his back and turned slightly away with the grave dignity of a veteran passing down ancient wisdom.

"It took me one year to read it and three years to master it."

Skye stared at him.

S.H.I.E.L.D. Academy offered several different specialties, but field operations was one of the strangest.

The program operated with considerable independence from the rest of the university, and its students spent far more time in practical exercises. Even so, it was still a four-year program.

Four years devoted to fieldcraft, operational procedures, and the study of case files.

Ward had completed that same four-year course, yet he’d gone on to distinguish himself quickly, becoming one of S.H.I.E.L.D.’s rising agents and eventually catching Coulson’s attention.

He had every reason to be proud of his abilities.

Skye shook the little book and handed it back.

"That’s a long time."

She sighed.

"So what’s the point of me learning any of this now? I can’t possibly learn enough in time. I barely have time to read through it once."

"We’re not giving you a full course."

Ward put the manual away and brought the unloaded pistol back up.

"This is targeted training."

He pointed the weapon at her.

"Right now, if you try to carry out this mission with what you know, your odds are nine out of ten that you’ll die."

He paused.

"If you skip the training, they’re ten out of ten."

"Please."

Skye glanced at his carefully prepared stance without making any effort to copy it.

"I’ve got an Avenger coming with me."

She waved dismissively.

"Sure, he’s got terrible manners, a lousy personality, dresses like he’s trying to look dramatic, pinches every penny, and somehow always complains about being broke."

Evenson raised an eyebrow.

"But he’s still an Avenger. Protecting a defenseless woman like me shouldn’t be beyond him."

"You should get that idea out of your head."

Evenson entered the compartment.

He was dressed dramatically better than usual.

A sharp suit. Polished shoes. His hair had been carefully arranged with enough gel to survive a hurricane. He adjusted the bow tie at his collar and spread his arms.

"Well?"

He turned slightly.

"How do I look?"

This wasn’t some neighborhood party. They were attending a shareholders’ meeting for a major international corporation.

Showing up in a tank top, jeans, and flip-flops probably wasn’t going to get them past the door.

So Evenson had pulled out the suit Malick had given him the last time they’d met.

"Not bad."

Skye answered without much enthusiasm.

"Really?"

Evenson turned in place, checking the cuffs and adjusting the hem.

"Remember, your cover identity is my date."

He looked at her.

"You don’t want every guest on the island staring at us like we’re lost, do you?"

"Okay, okay. You actually look pretty good."

Skye gave him a proper once-over.

She hadn’t expected Evenson to clean up this well.

Apparently, there was some truth to the old saying about clothes making the man.

"Good."

Evenson turned his back to her and clasped his hands behind him.

"Skye, you need to understand something. I’m not a member of this team. I won’t be joining every one of your missions."

He looked over his shoulder.

"This time we’re working together by coincidence, so I can keep you safe."

He shrugged.

"But what happens next time? You can’t rely on someone else forever."

His tone grew more serious.

"Being a field agent is the kind of high-risk job insurance companies wouldn’t touch with a ten-foot pole. People call it living on the edge for a reason."

He gave her a look.

"If your skills aren’t good enough, sooner or later that edge is going to cut you."

Skye visibly shrank a little.

"But I’m a technical specialist."

"Then you have even more reason to know how to protect yourself."

Evenson cut her off before she could finish.

Then he looked toward Ward.

"Agent Ward, hypothetical question."

Ward’s expression tightened.

"Go on."

"Let’s say you’re an enemy infiltrator. You’ve been given orders to sabotage our team. What would you do?"

A cold feeling dropped into Ward’s stomach.

For half a second, sweat nearly broke out across his back.

Then he forced himself to calm down.

It was just a hypothetical.

Pure coincidence.

He stepped into the scenario Evenson had described.

Luckily, he didn’t have to think very hard about it. He’d considered variations of the same situation countless times.

Ward opened his mouth.

Then he glanced deeply at Evenson.

"If you’re on the team, I’d grab a parachute and jump out of the aircraft."

Evenson nodded.

"Good survival instinct."

Then he continued.

"If I wasn’t there, who would you kill first?"

"The commander."

Ward answered without hesitation.

That was basic tradecraft. Giving some clever evasive answer would have been far stranger.

"Decapitation strike."

Evenson nodded approvingly.

"Good."

Then he added another question.

"But what if the commander is difficult to kill? Suppose he’s heavily protected. What then?"

Ward’s eyes shifted.

"In that case?"

He pointed at Skye.

"I’d kill her."

Skye froze.

"Me?"

She stared at him.

"Why me?"

"Exactly."

Evenson walked over and gently patted her shoulder.

"You need to understand something, Skye."

His expression was unusually serious.

"We don’t live in a television show where every mission gets neatly wrapped up in forty-five minutes."

He gestured toward Ward and then toward Skye.

"Field agents don’t succeed because they charge in with courage and determination. They succeed because they have information."

His voice stayed calm.

"Where are we going? When are we arriving? What kind of enemy are we facing? How many of them are there? Where are they positioned? What training have they received? What weapons are they carrying? What are their routines? Their habits? Their vulnerabilities?"

He tapped Skye lightly on the shoulder.

"All of that has to be established ahead of time and passed to the commander. The commander analyzes it, builds the operation around it, and gives the field team a plan."

His expression sharpened.

"The agents then combine that plan with whatever they encounter on the ground and execute the mission."

He paused.

"That’s why intelligence is so important."

Evenson smiled.

"And you’re a technical specialist with exceptional information-processing skills. You’re an important part of that intelligence system."

His smile disappeared.

"Which means that if an enemy has a secondary kill list, someone like you is going to be on it."

Skye fell silent.

For the first time, the danger seemed to sink all the way in.

She hadn’t been with the team for very long. Even now, some part of her still felt like she’d stumbled into someone else’s life by accident. Everything had happened so quickly that it hadn’t felt entirely real.

She hadn’t truly understood what kind of danger she was walking into.

"Maybe..."

She glanced at the pistol in Ward’s hand.

"Maybe this training is actually necessary."

"That’s the attitude you need."

Evenson could tell she’d finally started taking it seriously.

But he wasn’t finished.

"Don’t expect surrender to save you if you run into an enemy you can’t handle."

His expression hardened.

"Field agents aren’t protected by the Geneva Conventions just because they’re agents. Look at Malta. S.H.I.E.L.D. has no authority there. If one of our people gets caught conducting an operation, they could be executed on the spot."

Skye swallowed.

After that conversation, her attitude changed.

She at least took the disarming drills seriously.

Whether she would ever become truly competent at them was another question entirely.

That was something only time would tell.

Eventually, the day of the Quinn International shareholders’ meeting arrived.

Evenson and Skye walked onto the island with their arms linked, invitations in hand.

And, surprisingly, Skye looked completely at ease.

For someone on her first field operation, she displayed almost no nervousness at all. She moved through the gathering with the confidence of someone who belonged there.

They wandered through the island’s lavish grounds among wealthy executives and influential guests.

After a while, Skye noticed Evenson glancing at her again and again.

"What?"

She looked at him.

"You’ve been staring at me."

"Nothing."

Evenson picked up a glass of champagne from a passing server’s tray and took a sip.

Then he looked at her again.

She’d dressed completely differently for the occasion.

Light makeup.

A pink skirt suit.

High heels.

He gave her another once-over.

"Hmm."

His mouth curled into a grin.

"I always figured you were an A-cup."

Skye stared at him.

Then she looked down at herself.

Understanding dawned.

She rolled her eyes so subtly that nobody nearby noticed.

"You’re blind."

She ground the words out under her breath, released his arm, and walked over to one of the nearby tables.

Evenson took another sip of champagne.

The mission had officially begun.