Chapter 624

Skye’s transformation had been remarkable.

People really were creatures of presentation. Put someone in the right clothes, give them proper makeup, and suddenly the whole picture changed.

Skye was young, attractive, and naturally blessed with a striking Eurasian look. She had never been particularly concerned with fashion, though, and her usual wardrobe had done very little to showcase what she had.

There was a reason for that.

Skye had grown up practically on her own, and she’d spent years working for Rising Tide without getting paid. At one point, she didn’t even have a proper place to live, sleeping in a battered van and drifting from place to place.

She’d been even poorer than Evenson.

Now, for perhaps the first time in her life, she had an actual mission budget.

She could finally afford decent clothes and cosmetics instead of making do with whatever she already owned. She’d dressed up properly for the shareholders’ meeting, and the result was probably the most polished she’d ever looked.

There was, however, one obvious downside to becoming more attractive.

Flowers that bloomed too brightly tended to attract bees.

"Who are you?"

The voice came from behind her just as Skye picked up a small appetizer from a passing tray.

She nearly jumped out of her skin.

Had someone identified her?

She immediately turned and forced herself to remain calm.

The man standing there was elderly, probably well into his sixties. His beard and hair were almost completely white, and he wore thick black-framed glasses. He was also carrying more weight than a typical security officer.

More importantly, his English was terrible.

Skye relaxed.

Not security.

"I’m sorry," a younger man hurried over beside him with an apologetic smile. "He isn’t very good at English."

"It’s fine."

Skye smiled politely.

"I’m Skye."

She extended her hand toward the older man.

He shook it firmly.

"Kasim Zagler."

Skye’s eyes widened.

"Of course. It’s an honor. You’ve practically built half of Dubai."

She gestured excitedly.

"That includes the Arabian Blade Building, right? I love that place. It looks like something out of a science-fiction movie."

The old man smiled, clearly pleased.

Having a beautiful young woman praise your life’s work was apparently universal.

Skye hadn’t recognized him because she was secretly an expert on the world’s wealthy elites.

She’d simply had help.

The communications device hidden on her let her remain connected to Melinda and the others aboard the aircraft. The moment Kasim had introduced himself, the team had pushed a quick profile of him to her.

The experience drove home what Evenson had told her during training.

Intelligence could make or break an operation.

Without that information, she might have stood there staring blankly at him and exposed herself before the mission had even started.

Unfortunately for Skye, she wasn’t the only person listening to the briefing.

Evenson had heard everything through his own communicator.

And he wasn’t happy.

He had watched the elderly man approach Skye and immediately decided he didn’t like the look of it.

An old man hitting on a beautiful young woman was bad enough.

Then the intelligence report arrived.

Kasim Zagler wasn’t merely rich.

He was a Dubai billionaire.

Two strikes against him.

An old man chasing young women and a Dubai billionaire, both happening right in front of Evenson?

Absolutely unacceptable.

"Hmph."

Evenson happened to spot one of the small bells sitting on a nearby table, the kind meant to summon a waiter.

A white feather used to decorate one of the dishes lay beside it.

An idea occurred to him.

He picked up the bell and removed its clapper.

His lips moved silently as he murmured an incantation.

A faint green glow flickered across the metal, so subtle that nobody nearby noticed.

Then Evenson picked up a spoon and quietly moved to a position behind Kasim.

He tapped the bell once.

Dong.

The sound that came from it was nothing like the tiny ring the object should have made.

It boomed through Kasim’s ears like the toll of an enormous cathedral bell.

No one else reacted.

Kasim spun around in confusion.

Evenson smiled.

Then, with deliberate theatrical gravitas, he sent a deep, ancient-sounding Arabic voice directly into the old man’s ears.

"Listen. The final bell reveals your name."

Kasim went rigid.

His eyes bulged in terror.

Cold sweat instantly broke across his forehead.

Before he could recover, Evenson flicked his finger.

The white feather rose from the table and drifted slowly through the air.

It landed directly in front of Kasim’s face.

"The Feather of the Dead..."

Evenson didn’t get to finish.

Kasim gave a strangled gasp and collapsed.

He hit the floor hard and immediately began convulsing, foam appearing at the corner of his mouth.

"Medical staff!"

"Someone call an ambulance!"

His translator rushed to his side, shouting for help.

Fortunately, an event of this scale had medical personnel on standby. Several people in white coats hurried over almost immediately, loaded Kasim onto a stretcher, and carried him away.

Evenson watched them go.

"Hmph. Heh."

He walked back toward Skye.

She raised one eyebrow.

"What did you do?"

The man had been perfectly healthy a moment ago.

Then, out of nowhere, he’d looked as though he’d seen the Grim Reaper himself before collapsing.

And Evenson was standing there wearing the satisfied expression of a man who had just completed a minor work of art.

It wasn’t difficult to connect the dots.

"Me?"

Evenson casually draped an arm around Skye’s shoulders.

Considering her cover identity was his date, the gesture was perfectly natural.

"I didn’t do anything."

He smiled.

"I may have borrowed someone else’s reputation for a moment."

Skye frowned.

"What reputation?"

"I didn’t realize that legend still scared people this badly."

"A legend?"

Skye was still trying to figure out what he meant when Evenson leaned closer and spoke quietly.

"Three o’clock."

His expression sharpened.

"Target’s here."

Skye immediately abandoned the question.

She glanced discreetly in the indicated direction.

Ian Quinn had just entered, surrounded by several associates.

Evenson gave Skye’s shoulder a light pat.

"You stay here."

He released her.

"I’ll be back."

With a wineglass in hand and an easy smile on his face, he walked toward Quinn.

Skye watched him go.

Then her eyes shifted.

A sly little smile appeared on her lips.

She had just gotten an idea of her own.

"Mr. Quinn."

Evenson reached Quinn and extended a hand.

"Pleasure to meet you."

"Oh, the pleasure’s mine."

Quinn had intended to make a brief appearance at the shareholders’ meeting, give his speech, and get back to more important business.

When some stranger suddenly intercepted him, his first instinct was to exchange the necessary pleasantries and move on.

Then Evenson gave his name.

"My name is Leon."

He smiled.

"Leon Scott Kennedy. It’s a pleasure to meet you."

Quinn’s attitude changed instantly.

"Ah... Mr. Kennedy."

He shook Evenson’s hand warmly.

"A representative of Mr. Malick. It’s a pleasure to meet you."

Quinn might have considerable influence of his own, but Gideon Malick operated on an entirely different level.

A representative sent by Malick was someone Quinn needed to treat carefully.

Especially because Malick had already contacted him about a certain matter.

True, the two men had only spoken over the phone.

But Quinn was interested in what Malick had proposed.

"It’s wonderful to finally meet you."

Quinn smiled.

"You’re here to discuss that matter, aren’t you? The one Mr. Malick mentioned..."

Evenson raised a hand, cutting him off.

With exaggerated casualness, he adjusted one of his cuffs.

"Mr. Quinn, are you really planning to discuss that here?"

Quinn paused.

He looked around.

They were surrounded by guests.

Far too many ears.

"You’re right."

He smiled apologetically.

"I got ahead of myself. Give me a moment."

"Of course."

Evenson nodded.

Inside, he quietly exhaled.

He had asked Malick for one simple favor: an invitation.

That was it.

He had absolutely no idea what business existed between Malick and Quinn.

If Quinn started discussing the details right here, Evenson’s bluff would collapse in spectacular fashion.

So he needed to keep Quinn interested.

Then he needed Quinn to take him somewhere more private.

Once they were deep enough inside the island’s security perimeter, whether Quinn discovered the truth wouldn’t matter nearly as much.

Quinn walked onto the stage and began his speech.

His words were filled with attacks on S.H.I.E.L.D., denunciations of political hegemony, and talk of freedom.

He practically cast himself as the world’s newest champion of liberty.

What Quinn didn’t know was that two S.H.I.E.L.D. agents had already arrived on the island.

Coulson and Ward had come ashore at a secluded beach in a small inflatable boat.

Ward dragged the boat onto the sand and covered it with vegetation.

"Honestly, I think we’re unnecessary this time."

He looked toward Coulson.

"That man is handling this personally. Do we really need to be here as backup?"

"Always be prepared, Agent Ward."

Unlike Ward, who wore full combat gear, Coulson was still dressed in his immaculate suit.

Unfortunately, formalwear wasn’t designed for beach landings.

He leaned against Ward for support, pulled off one shoe, and emptied a respectable amount of sand from it.

Then he straightened his jacket.

"You’ll understand once you’ve worked with him long enough."

Coulson shook his head.

"Sometimes that guy is completely unreliable. He acts like everything is a joke and that he’s easygoing, but when he actually decides to hit someone..."

Coulson gave Ward a pointed look.

"He hits hard."

He had seen what Evenson had done to Obadiah Stane.

He remembered the Abomination being nailed to the ground after throwing things where they didn’t belong.

And then there was the fire in Peru.

"You know that wildfire in Peru?"

Ward glanced at him.

"It was only officially declared extinguished two nights ago."

Ward’s mouth twitched.

That fire had lasted that long?

The economic damage must have been enormous.

Fortunately, the Peruvian government had been the one to start the confrontation in the first place, and S.H.I.E.L.D. had apparently found something they could use as leverage afterward.

Otherwise, the aftermath could have been much uglier.

Coulson steadied Ward long enough to dump the last grains of sand from his shoe.

Then he adjusted his tie.

"So..."

He looked toward the distant estate.

"Our primary purpose here is making sure this island doesn’t suddenly erupt, shake itself apart, and sink into the ocean."

Ward stared at him.

Neither man said anything for a moment.

Then Coulson straightened his jacket.

"Let’s get to work."