Chapter 8: Chapter 8
Grant Ward—the name triggered a flood of memories for Holm. He was a seasoned level seven agent, far more experienced than Holm, who had only recently been promoted to level six. The two had crossed paths on several occasions, and through these interactions, Holm had come to realize that Ward, like him, was a Hydra agent secretly planted within S.H.I.E.L.D.
The fragmented memories now swirling in Holm's mind brought a growing suspicion that Ward might have played a role in the problems Holm had encountered recently, possibly even having a hand in his near-fatal situation. Along with this, the flashes of memory also answered the question that had bothered him for a while: why he had treated Daisy so harshly before.
From the very beginning of their partnership, Daisy's background had been a source of unease for Holm. She wasn't just another agent—her rank was kept secret, and she regularly communicated with S.H.I.E.L.D. higher-ups, including someone as influential as Phil Coulson. Holm had long held a deep mistrust for people who had such close ties to the powerful figures within the agency, especially given his own secret loyalty to Hydra. Constantly suspicious of her intentions and wary that she might uncover his true allegiance, Holm had maintained a cold distance, keeping his guard up at all times.
As Holm's mind raced, piecing together the implications of Ward's involvement and his own precarious situation, he spoke to Daisy. "It's not your fault," he said, breaking his train of thought. "You already covered for me, so I doubt it'll affect my leave." His voice was calm, and he gave her a reassuring smile, though internally, the leave didn't matter to him anymore. It had simply been a convenient excuse to gather the information he needed. Now that his task was complete, the approval of the leave seemed trivial.
Daisy, still feeling uneasy about having potentially worsened Holm's situation, simply nodded and took a sip from her coffee. She was trying to process the recent change in Holm's attitude toward her. Could his recent politeness and patience be tied to his leave request? But now, even after they had discussed everything openly, his behavior hadn't changed. He still treated her with the same gentleness, which left her feeling both confused and unsettled.
Before either of them could delve deeper into their thoughts, their phones simultaneously chimed, interrupting the moment. Holm and Daisy exchanged a brief look before checking the incoming message.
Emergency Mission: A meteorite has fallen on the outskirts of Manhattan. Agents Holm Clint and Daisy Johnson, proceed immediately to investigate.
Daisy frowned, a hint of confusion in her voice. "Meteorites? Since when do we handle meteorites?"
Holm, already rising to leave, responded, "It's not an ordinary meteorite if they're sending us." As he straightened his jacket, he turned to her. "Did you drive here?"
Daisy pointed to a nearby taxi idling by the curb. "No, I took a cab. My car's in the shop after an accident."
Holm clicked his car key and motioned toward his vehicle. "Great. I'll drive." Daisy followed him, slipping into the passenger seat without protest.
The drive toward the outskirts of the city was relatively smooth. Holm, focused on the road, said little, and Daisy found herself glancing at him occasionally, still pondering the shift in his behavior. If his newfound politeness had been tied to his leave request, why was he still acting this way now that they had discussed everything? Her confusion grew with each passing moment.
Holm, on the other hand, was focused entirely on the task ahead. His driving was sharp and precise, and with little traffic to hinder them, they arrived at the outskirts in no time. Once there, they parked the car near a forested area, where faint trails of smoke could be seen rising from the trees.
The pair walked for about ten minutes, moving toward the source of the smoke, until they finally reached the crash site. A large crater had formed in the middle of the clearing, with charred trees and smoldering branches marking the area. In the center of the crater lay the meteorite—a jagged, irregularly shaped mass of rock. At first glance, it appeared unremarkable, though the circumstances of its landing suggested otherwise. A few uniformed police officers were speaking with two men nearby who appeared to be hikers—the first witnesses to discover the meteorite.
Holm and Daisy approached the officers, displaying their S.H.I.E.L.D. badges. One middle-aged officer, who appeared to be in charge, greeted them and began briefing them on the situation.
"Is there anything unusual about the meteorite?" Holm asked, cutting straight to the point.
The officer shrugged. "Well, I didn't get too close, but these two guys," he nodded toward the hikers, "said they saw the meteorite moving after it landed. Like there was something alive inside."
Holm raised an eyebrow at that. The officer continued, "One of my guys climbed down there to check it out. He said there's definitely something in the center of the meteorite, but it's not moving anymore. It's more like… breathing."
Holm exchanged a glance with Daisy. Breathing? That was definitely unusual.
The officer handed Holm a file containing notes and the written statements from the witnesses. "I've been on the force for thirty years, and this is the strangest thing I've come across. Figured it was above my pay grade, so I called it in. Looks like I was right to do so."
With that, the officer and his team began to make their exit, leaving Holm and Daisy to handle the investigation. He promised to escort the witnesses back to the station for further questioning and to have them sign confidentiality agreements.
Holm, now standing at the edge of the crater, took off his sunglasses and glanced down at the meteorite. Daisy, still watching the object with a mix of curiosity and wariness, followed suit, removing her sunglasses and hooking them onto her shirt.
"Should we go down and check it out?" she asked, her voice carrying a note of caution. Despite the police report, the situation felt far from normal, and the idea of a "breathing" meteorite had set her on edge.
Holm nodded, his eyes narrowing as he focused on the strange object below. "Wait," he said, his tone firm. "We need to be ready for anything."
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