Prologue
Downtown NYC was the picture of chaos—with choppers flying high, disturbing the stark cold night air with their turbulent winds and blinding spotlight. Constantly moving, in search of their nimble target.
Below, multiple police cars painted the buildings with jarring noisy hues of red and blue, speeding down the lanes. On another side, two deep black cars with reinforced windows sped down another lane, following three dark blue-clad agents on their bikes weaving through the minimal traffic.
On the forefront of the chaos was one man. Covered in black, camouflaging with the night—as if he was born out of darkness, his midnight coat wildly thrashed in the harsh winds. Like a matador leading his bull, he held the attention of the squad hunting him like a deer, leading them on in a game of cat and mouse.
In the dark, the man smirked before skidding his bike to a rough turn, sending him straight into the direction of a night market.
The cars stopped behind him whilst the three agents on their bikes chased him through the mass of people and products.
Hysteria followed in their wake, the man slithering between stalls with expert precision whilst the agents following him looked like dolts in comparison, overturning the stalls and breaking merchandises.
A rush of curses from stand owners and tourists followed them like a mob, but the agents ignored them to chase their target who was constantly outrunning them. They followed him like a moth to a flame, into alleyways and main streets before one turn led them to a bridge with a police barricade on the other side.
The man swerved and stopped his reckless driving. Body half on the bike and half balancing on the road. The agents immediately hopped off their bikes and pulled out their agency issued guns, aiming right at him.
He was cornered, body inches away from the railing of the bridge atop a river.
“Give it up.” One of the agents warned him, his finger hovering over the trigger. “You’re trapped.”
The mysterious man looked behind him into the dead end of a deep fall into deeper destructive waters, then turned to face the three agents with a mocking smile on his face and an alluring tone in his voice. “I don’t think so.”
Before any of them could move, the man fully turned and leapt over the railings before plummeting down and out of their sights.
One of the agents yelped before running to the railing in hopes of catching him. He turned back to his two senior agents who was stood there doing nothing. Confused, he felt the need to state what just happened. “He—he killed himself!”
“No, he escaped.”
The panicked agent looked down across the bridge once more, at the rushing water that seemed unsurvivable. “No one could survive that fall.”
“Yeah. Normally no one could. No one but him, that is.” The leader of the trio ran his hand through his hair in frustration.
“Was that really him, then?” The youngest one of the three asked the man in the front, looking over the bridge. “Sorry, I just got assigned to this task force—I’ve never met him.”
The leader eyed the new and motivated recruit with curiosity glinting in his eyes. “The one and only.”
Biting on his lips, the younger struggle to stay silent whilst his seniors called in to the others in their chase, before he finally gave in to his curiosity. “He’s different—from all the stories. He doesn’t seem like a—“
“Mass murderer, terrorist and a traitor to the country?” Canvassing the area for clues, the eldest of the trio who mostly stayed silent reprimanded with a sour tone. “Don’t be fooled by his sunny personality and joking demeanor. We’re hunting a monster, make sure to remind yourself of that. The moment you show him mercy as a human, you’ll die.”
“We were all fooled.” The leader reminded his partner in a small defeated voice, a hint of pain from betrayal seeping into it. “Let up a little bit, you’re scaring him.”
The eldest scoffed, standing up from kneeling to investigate the railing, he glared at their youngest to indefinite silence. “He should be.”
Giving up, the leader took his communicator out, heaving a breath before reporting in. “This is SHIELD Task Force 1, reporting back to HQ. We’ve lost the target.”
Looking out towards the tumultuous overlapping of strong currents, he knew that despite the impossibility, the man he once considered an ally had survived and would be long gone from their grasps.
After all, he once was the damn near best agent the world has ever seen.
And now, he’s their worst enemy.
“I repeat, Stiles Stilinski is in the wind.”