Trap
“Daisy, Mack, everyone in position?”
“We’re ready and waiting for your signal, AC/DC,” Daisy replied over the com.
Coulson smirked and rolled his eyes toward May. Her attention did not waver from the road. White-knuckled fists gripped the steering wheel and her eyes darted from one side of the windshield to the other, scanning for potential threats.
Coulson frowned and turned off his com.
“Hey,” he said, turning toward her. “You okay?”
“Fine,” she replied. “Just want to get this over with.”
He could not fault her for that.
There was no part of him that enjoyed riding in an armoured vehicle with the decapitated, yet fully-functional head of the man that wanted to kill him on the floor at his feet. If this plan worked though, the Watchdogs and Anton Ivanov would all be behind bars soon enough.
What they needed was a way to draw the Ivanov out and make him come to them. As Coulson explained to his team earlier in the Director’s office, the head was the bait. Now all they needed was Ivanov’s “superior” body to come and retrieve it. To make sure it could accomplish that, they had to provide a window of opportunity.
Daisy sent out a message to select members of SHIELD on the line that she and Simmons knew was being hacked by the Watchdogs. The notice informed SHIELD personnel that “an 084 of great value to the Watchdogs” was being transferred to an off-site facility. Daisy included a comprehensive description of the facility, complete with obvious flaws in security.
When Ivanov and his lackeys analysed the information, they would discern that the best time to retrieve the head would be at 6:30pm after the cargo was transferred. Upon raiding the facility, the Watchdogs would be met with the full force of SHIELD, the FBI, Homeland Security, and every other government agency that they had pissed off.
May and Coulson were overseeing transportation of the object from their base to the off-site storage unit.
Coulson turned his com back on and watched the buildings fly by. The streets were devoid of cars and pedestrian traffic by design. They had chosen a back-route that would take them away from civilians and had tasked the local police force with keeping their path clear.
“How much longer?” May asked.
“We’re just about half a mile out,” he replied. “So I would guess—
He broke off when a loud thunk from the roof of the van interrupted him.
May slammed on the breaks and a man clad in black tactical gear flew off the roof and landed on the asphalt in front of them.
“—about now,” Coulson finished.
May cut her eyes over at him, wearing a shade of a grin. She hit the gas, swerving to miss their would-be assailant sprawled on the road.
“That won’t be the last of them,” May warned.
“Let’s hope not,” Coulson agreed.
He did not try to hide his smile. He was in his element and the pieces were falling into place.
“Guys, stay sharp,” he said into the com. “They’ve taken the bait.”
“We’ve got eyes on you, Coulson,” Mack said. “Take this next left and—woah! Incoming!”
Coulson saw it right before Mack spoke: a road-spike strip laid out right in the path of their vehicle. May did not even blink as she pulled the emergency brake and turned the wheel of the van, spinning them 180 degrees in the other direction.
When the smoke from the tyres cleared, May and Coulson saw them. At least twenty Watchdogs armed to the teeth formed a wall across the street. They were trapped.
“What now?” May murmured through clenched teeth.
“Wait for it,” Coulson assured her.
Sauntering up to the passenger’s side of the armoured car, like he was in a goddamned Western, came Anton Ivanov. Coulson tried not to flinch as the Russian grabbed his door by the handle and wrenched it out of its frame like it was a scrap of tin foil. May’s hand went to her ICER and Ivanov grabbed Coulson by the shirt collar.
“You’ve taken something that belongs to me,” he spat.
“If you don’t surrender now, you’re going to lose a lot more than just your head,” Coulson retorted.
The man’s face twisted into something resembling a smile.
“Always so sure of yourself, Phil Coulson,” he growled. “That is your weakness. You thought you had the perfect strategy to trap me. You underestimated me. Again. You think that box just contains my mind? It’s still alive, Coulson. And I could hear every word of your plan.”
“Oh, I was counting on it,” Coulson replied.
The smirk vanished from Ivanov’s face and his grip on Coulson slackened perceptibly.
“Okay guys,” Coulson said into his com. “You’re on.”
The scene in front of the armoured van erupted into chaos.
Yo-Yo, Mack, Mace, Fitz, Simmons and May’s tactical team came at the line of Watchdogs from either side. Coulson was awarded a clear view of the battle when Daisy leapt in front of the van and blew Ivanov back with a tectonic burst that nailed him to the pavement.
“Remember me?” Daisy asked him. “Things didn’t go to well for you last time we met.”
Ivanov snarled and struggled against the waves of energy that hammered at him.
“Go easy on him,” Coulson warned Daisy. “Remember, we need him alive.”
Sparing a glance at the street brawl between his team and the Watchdogs, Coulson decided the rest of them could use a reminder as well.
Yo-Yo was a blur, racing from one combatant to the next, disarming them and placing their weapons in the hands of her fellow agents. Mace, no longer enhanced with the Patriot serum, joined the tactical team in firing ICER bullets from the side-lines. FitzSimmons released a swarm of the latest model of D.W.A.R.F.s into the fray, modified with an array of non-lethal tranquilizing agents.
In spite of SHIELD’s best efforts, the Watchdogs were holding their own. These were people recruited from some of the roughest gangs and prisons in the country. They were not going down without a fight.
Coulson watched as Mack slammed the butt of his shotgun-axe into the temple of his attacker, pumped a round into the magazine and took aim.
“Careful!” Coulson admonished his team over the coms. “The goal is to capture, not kill. This isn’t all of them. We need them alive if we’re going to question them.”
A grunt, followed by the dull crunch of bone on steel, diverted his attention to May’s side of the van. Coulson looked over to see her standing over the body of an unconscious Watchdog, who was sporting a nasty gash over his eye.
Coulson raised his eyebrows at her.
“What did I just say?”
“You said not to kill them,” May replied. “He’ll live.”
He opened his mouth to retort when a gunshot exploded in his ear.
Coulson whirled around and watched Daisy sink to her knees onto the road. Blood blossomed from a bullet wound in her shoulder.
Ivanov got to his feet slowly, still training the smoking gun on the fallen agent.
“Sometimes the old ways are still the best,” he taunted.
Coulson knelt facing Daisy, placing himself between her and Ivanov. His ICER was still clipped to his belt. There was no way he would be able to move fast enough to get off a shot before Ivanov put two bullets in them.
“Turn around, Phil Coulson,” Ivanov instructed. “I want to see your face when I kill you.”
Daisy shook her head and grabbed his hand, pleading with him. Coulson shot her a tight smile in reply and turned to face the man who had made it his life’s mission to hunt him down.
“Despite what you may think, I don’t actually take pleasure in killing,” he said. “But this, I am truly going to enjoy.
Ivanov’s face split into a grin, took aim at Coulson’s chest, and fell backward as an ICER bullet hit him squarely in the forehead.
Daisy and Coulson looked up, slack-jawed, to see Melinda May still holding her weapon in front of her.
“If you want to kill someone, just do it,” she muttered. “Try not talking about it so much.”
Coulson let out a sign of relief and Daisy even managed a dry chuckle.
“You okay?” May asked Daisy.
She crouched alongside Coulson to get a better look at the wound in Daisy’s shoulder.
“Bullet’s still in there,” Daisy gasped. “But I’ll live.”
“Alright,” Coulson muttered.
He took off his jacket, balled it up and pressed it against her shoulder to staunch the flow of blood.
“We need to wrap this situation up,” May said. “She needs medical attention.”
“Guys…” Daisy started.
“Don’t worry,” Coulson assured her. “As soon as the Watchdogs realize we have their leader—
“No, Coulson, look!” Daisy said, pointing behind them.
May and Coulson turned around to see blank pavement where Ivanov had fallen. He was gone. May got to her feet and looked in the van.
“He took the head,” she announced, slamming the door behind her.
“How the hell did the ICER wear off that fast?” Daisy asked.
“It doesn’t matter,” Coulson said, standing up. “If we let him escape now, we lose all of our leverage.”
He cast a concerned look back in Daisy’s direction.
“Go,” Daisy told him.
Coulson nodded and ran off down the nearest side street.
“You’d better follow him,” Daisy urged May. “I’ll be fine.”
May hesitated, avoiding Daisy’s eyes.
“Hey,” Daisy said. “You got this. Besides, you know one of us has to watch his back.”
May rewarded her former protégé’s pep talk with a tight-lipped smile. She squeezed the girl’s uninjured shoulder and took off after her partner.