Hello, everyone! I'm not exactly sure how this is going to go, but since this idea's been bugging for awhile now, I figured i'd give it a shot. I'm far from an expert on this world, so hopefully I don't write anything that's too out of whack...But if I do, just let me know and i'll do my best to correct it!

I really hope you all enjoy!

"This is a level 7. As of right now, we are at war."
"...What do we do?"

What can we do?

The answer is obvious.

But the words come with much more difficulty than Nick Fury expects.

"Get Agent Romanoff on the line!" Fury shouts as he enters the office.

Immediately, his agents cease their idle morning chatter and rush into their perfectly practiced patterns of action, only with more focus and greater drive than usual, today.
They've all heard about the incident that happened just yesterday night. It's why they're all here, after being painstakingly selected and given the proper security clearance to know about this hell of a mission they are about to embark on.

"Agent Romanoff?" a voice asks from across the way.
Amidst all the action, Fury swivels around so his good eye is aimed on the source of the question. This is, of course, more out of pure habit than anything else.
He would recognize the voice of Maria Hill, his second in command, almost anywhere.
"She'll want to know if Barton's been taken." comes the answer.
There is no hesitance in the way he speaks, which is normal for him, but the blue-eyed brunette has worked under the man long enough to understand the way he heaves a small sigh and turns his gaze in the aftermath.
"Yes, sir." she says, giving a sharp bird-like nod.

As she walks away, Coulson wanders over.
"What about the others?" he asks.
Someone waves a phone in his face, the number already dialed in, which he takes, but his attention is still focused on the director of the operation.
"Romanoff shouldn't be a problem. Neither should the Captain." Fury answers. To the rest of the room, "Someone compile the necessary information and get it to his apartment!" Then, he sighs as he rests his hands on the metal railing and stares absently out at nothing. "As for the rest of them...well, let's just say I have a feeling they're going to need some convincing. They're not a group who plays nice with others."

Coulson can attest to that.
He's met nearly every one of them.
"So we call in Romanoff first and get her to help force them." he says, finally following Fury's train of thought.
The other man nods.
Phil dials.

And as he talks his way through some Russian general's spiel, Coulson scoots off to the corner to continue his conversation as Fury starts to dole out even more orders.

"We need you to come in."
"Are you kidding? I'm working." is the first thing she says.
"This takes precedence."
"I'm in the middle of an interrogation. This moron is giving me everything."
There is a pause then, and some sheepishly muttered words in the background that Coulson can't quite make out. "Look, you can't pull me out of this right now."
"Tasha, Barton's been compromised."

Those four words change everything.

"...Let me put you on hold."

And then Coulson has nothing to do but listen in as punches are thrown, property is damaged, and people go flying.
He thinks he hears a chair splinter.
And...the rattle of chains?
A fairly average day, then. Nothing Romanoff can't handle.
And sure enough, after not even the span of five minutes, she is back.

"Where is Barton now?"
"We don't know." Coulson answers honestly, bracing himself for what's next.
"But he's alive."
"We think so. We'll brief you on everything as soon as you get back."
He hesitates.
"But first, we need you to talk to the big guy."

He can hear the smirk in her voice when she answers which is all he needs to know that she's thinking of someone else entirely.
"Coulson, you know that Stark can trust me about as far as he can throw me."
"Oh, i've got Stark. You get the big guy."

There is a long pause before she speaks again.

"Wasn't another agent assigned to keep tabs on him?"
"She left SHIELD not too long ago."
"So get her back." Romanoff answers without missing a beat.
"...She's a difficult person to convince."

"Well, try. Phil, you know she's the only one equipped to handle things, to handle him, if they go wrong."
Phil gives a reluctant sigh.
"I'll talk to Directory Fury. But in the meantime, i'll send you his location. Head over there and be ready to move if she declines."
"Understood."
The line disconnects.

Phil stares down at the phone in his hands for a few moments after, hemming and hawing over what to do.
Fury definitely won't like this.
The man isn't exactly a fan of when things don't go precisely according to his plans.
But, Coulson thinks, it is the truth.
They need her.
Especially as they are about to take the search up in the air and they need to bring the doctor up with them.

"...and get another copy of the file for Stark." Fury is saying to Hill when Coulson approaches.
The man then glances at him expectantly.
"Uh...Romanoff is on her way." Phil reports.
And Fury nods in satisfaction, then turns to head out, expecting nothing else. But Phil knows that he can't just let this go.

"Sir! Uh...She also said that we should bring...her in."
Fury's footsteps come to a halt.
"'Her?'" he echoes, good eye glinting dangerously as he turns back.
Phil shifts uncomfortably.
"...Romanoff says we need her. And...uh, with all due respect, sir, I agree."
For a long time, Nick Fury says nothing; just continues to bore holes into poor Coulson's forehead, trying to get him to take it all back. But Coulson just returns the stare with one of his own, a hopelessly earnest one, as all the other agents in the room listen in with bated breath and pretend to have their noses buried in their work.

It is Nick Fury who relaxes the hard lines in his face first.

"...Get me Simza Sterling's number." he says quietly.

Maria Hill frowns at the name.
Because she knows who that is and she thinks that bringing her on board is a bad idea indeed.

Too curious not to ask, she half-jogs, half-walks to catch up to Fury as he stalks across the room.
"Sir? Wouldn't that just create a higher risk?" she asks him quietly.
"No. He's not even likely to recognize who the damn hell she is." Fury answers wearily. "I'm more concerned about her willingness to cooperate. Especially with me involved."
And before Hill can ask any more than that, the nearest agent, Agent Lee to be specific, pulls the number up on her screen and Fury waves Phil over to him as he turns away.

Hill watches as the director punches in the phone number and then retreats to a different room, Coulson in tow.

"I don't think she's going to pick up." Phil says after a few unanswered rings.
"Oh, she'll pick up alright."

And sure enough, after two or three more rings, someone answers.

"Ms. Sterling-" Fury begins, but that's as far as he gets.
"I've already told you. Stop tagging me! I left SHIELD not even a year ago and you're already-"
There's a loud racket on the phone then, which neither man can recognize the sound of. The noise oddly resembles the crackling of a candy wrapper into the receiver, the screech of an infant, and a bomb going off all at once. To some stranger in the background, she shouts, "No, he's not dead, you idiot! Look at him! Jesus, give the gun to me!"
The earth-shattering crack of a bullet firing thunders out.
After, they hear her say "I thought I told you not to bring him in right now. Take the body and get out!"

Fury and Coulson exchange glances.

And then, there is a heavy sigh as she turns her attention back to the phone.
"As you can probably tell, i've got a few projects going on of my own right now. Leave me alone, Fury. I'm not going to help you. Don't ask me agai-"
"Well, what if I gave you one of my heroic speeches?" Coulson interrupts, cheerfully.

And, recognizing the voice, the person on the other end suddenly breaks off her tirade.
She lets out another sigh, knowing she can't be angry (not at him anyway), and her tone is softer when she finally speaks again.

"...Hey, Phil." she says.
"Agent Sterling." he replies.
"Former agent." the voice stresses. "So sorry but no. Not even one of your speeches is going to convince me this time, no matter how good they are."
"But we have so much history together." he jokes.
"Yeah, well, you know me. Never been big on history."
Coulson laughs good-naturedly at the reference to her unusual abilities, and as they continue to banter back and forth, the edge in the woman's voice nearly lets up entirely.

But then, "Ms. Sterling," Nick Fury interrupts, patience wearing thin. "we have an urgent matter concerning a certain doctor who thinks he's hidden up in Kolkata. Now with the world going to hell, I hope you don't think you're gonna get out clean and free when everything else starts going batshit crazy around here."

"I-" she begins to reply.
But he talks over her.
"Especially," he emphasizes. "not where Bruce Banner is involved."

"...Banner?..." she murmurs. Then, she snaps to attention. "Hang on, did you say Kolkata? He's supposed to be in Canada."
"He left." Fury answers.
And he can feel the balance of power start to shift in his favor.
He just needs one more opportunity...
And then, it happens.

"Left?!' Unbelievable! I thought I told you to keep me updated on his movements-"
He seizes the chance.

"Here at SHIELD, we don't share classified information, not even with former agents. Of course, I might be willing to disclose more details on his whereabouts if you somehow happened to be reinstated or were otherwise involved in our latest operation. But seeing as how you've refused once already, I can see there's no use in trying to convince you any longer so we'll just move on to the next name on the list now." Fury says.

Coulson frowns in confusion at this, because they have no list.
There is just Agent Romanoff, and her.
But Fury merely gives Coulson a sidelong, knowing glance as he continues.
"This call was something more of a formality anyway so goodbye, Ms. Sterli-"

"Wait!" the voice suddenly shouts.

Coulson begins to grin as they wait for her to continue.

"You bastards..." she hisses under her breath.

Fury's brow creases in displeasure.
But then, she follows that with two words that make it all worthwhile.

"...I'm in."

From somewhere far, far away, a rather unremarkable looking woman dressed in somewhat frumpy office clothing with her dark hair tied back, sighs as she drops into the nearest chair to question just how on earth her brain makes life decisions, anyway.

As she thinks, she places her phone on the desk and absently turns it over and over and over again.
And again...
...And again.

And then, she's on her feet, suddenly all business.
She yanks the door of the old, abandoned warehouse's office open and shouts, "Daniel!" out into the hall.

If she's going to be on a plane to India in an hour, she needs to start cleaning up loose ends.

After just a few moments, her assistant appears, rubbing at the back of his neck in concern.

"Listen, i'm sorry about before." Daniel apologizes. "I-I just...I didn't think that he could do that, it was all so-"
"It's okay." Sterling answers, cutting him off.
His blue eyes crinkle up in relief and he grins down at her then, towering over her by a good foot. But all she can give him in return is a tight smile.

"Come on. We have another job to do."

He follows her out happily, like a lost little puppy.

An hour later, average college student Daniel Fischer is standing in the middle of the busy streets of the city, looking as lost and confused as anything.

(Lost and confused, but...strangely happy.
He doesn't know why.
He can't remember...
Oh, he remembers all the details of the jobs he'd been working and things like that, of course, he just can't remember for whom he'd done all of those heinous things for.)

And Simza Sterling watches him from behind the driver's wheel of a car parked just across the road.
She could park closer. She knows that.
It's not as if he would recognize her either way, but still...

She reaches down for her cup of coffee and as she does, she sees his, too; the one he had been sipping from not even a half hour before.

Daniel Fischer blinks up at the dark, rainy sky for just a second longer.
Then, he gives a small shake of his head to clear his mind, and he pulls up the hood of his sweater, and he disappears into the crowd for good.

Sterling knows she shouldn't feel bad about this.
The kid had agreed to it in his contract when they'd first started working together, after all.
But she does.

She sighs as she turns on the ignition and drives off towards the airport.

Hope it wasn't too terrible?...
Oh my god...