Dum-Dum Dugan #25

Coulson's interest was piqued, but he remained cautious. "Information? About what, exactly?" He added, his voice steady and eyes narrowing. "If you're talking about gangsters, you might as well surrender to the police. That would be a waste of both our times."

I shrugged, leaning back in my chair with a nonchalance I didn't quite feel. "I can tell you about things you and Fury want to know. About underground networks, people with abilities you've never heard of, and, more importantly, about an enemy you don't even know exists."

I crossed my arms, watching his reaction. "In short, I can give you intel that would take you years to uncover."

Coulson frowned, skepticism etched into his features. "That's a big claim, considering we're the single biggest intelligence agency on the face of the planet. Especially the part about this so-called enemy." He gave me a skeptical look, his gaze piercing. "How do I know you're not just bluffing?"

"We'll get to that later," I replied coolly. "My demands come first: full immunity and protection from the police for myself and Carlo. Furthermore, my hideout has been compromised, so I'd need another place away from prying eyes, preferably a private island near New York."

"That's a tall order," Coulson said, his tone a mix of incredulity and cautious interest. "You better have some damn good information to justify even thinking of such exorbitant demands..."

I leaned forward, locking eyes with him. "The information I have is worth even more. I wouldn't have gone out of my way to settle for this much if I didn't have to."

Coulson went silent for a moment, his eyes studying me intently. The room felt tense, the air heavy with unspoken threats and promises. Finally, he nodded slowly. "We have a deal. But I need something concrete first to prove you're not wasting my time."

I paused, feeling the weight of the moment. I hadn't actually expected to get this far. My mind raced through the options. Telling Coulson about the bunker beneath Camp Lehigh, housing the data banks containing Arnim Zola's digital psyche, flashed briefly in my thoughts, but I dismissed it. Too outrageous. Too valuable for a simple proof of credibility.

I leaned back, a calculated smile spreading across my face. "Let's start with something to whet your appetite," I said. "Steve Rogers, AKA Captain America, perished after crashing the Valkyrie into the Arctic on March 1st, 1945."

Coulson's frown deepened. "The exact date and the name of the aircraft weren't disclosed to the public. But this isn't exactly useful intel."

I chuckled, shaking my head. "You interrupted me before I got to the good part. Captain America didn't die as everyone thinks. He's been frozen, but he's still alive. All you need to do is find and extract him from the ice, and you'll have all the proof about my credibility that you need...."

Coulson's skepticism was palpable. "We've been searching for Captain America's remains for decades now. Finding him would take years. This is clearly a poor attempt to waste time..."

I shrugged nonchalantly. "You can find him in the Arctic Circle, more specifically in the waters near Greenland. If that's not enough to narrow it down, you could enlist the help of people like Tony Stark, Hank Pym, or Reed Richards. They could whip up a device to find the crash site of his plane in no time."

Coulson opened his mouth to speak, but paused, his hand moving to the earpiece nestled discreetly in his ear. He listened intently for a moment, his expression shifting from skepticism to resignation. Letting out a sigh, he turned his attention back to me.

"You have a deal," he said, albeit reluctantly.

I allowed myself a triumphant smile. "Thank God for Fury's paranoia. It saved me a lot of time and effort."

Coulson shook his head, his expression a mix of frustration and resignation. "We'll try to find Captain America. But you'd better hope you're right. Fury might have agreed to this, but he doesn't take kindly to wild goose chases."

He stood, the weight of our conversation lingering in the air. As he turned to leave, I called after him. "One more thing, Agent Coulson. Get the police out of here. And tell Detective Vasquez that her secret is safe with me. For now."

Coulson frowned, a shadow of confusion crossing his face, but he didn't press the issue. Instead, he nodded. "I'll take care of it."

With that, he walked toward the exit, his steps measured and deliberate. The Tanzees, ever vigilant, moved to seal the door behind him, their expressions unreadable. I watched him go, feeling a mixture of relief and apprehension. This was a gamble, but it was my only shot at getting out of this mess.

Once Coulson was gone, the warehouse felt eerily silent. Vito's presence materialized beside me, his smug grin a constant reminder of the precarious situation I was in.

"You think he'll bite?" Vito asked, arms crossed.

"He has to," I replied, more to myself than to him. "Or I'll be utterly fucked and screwed..."

Vito chuckled, his laughter echoing in the empty space. "You're really starting to get the hang of this, huh?"

I ignored him, my mind racing with the possibilities and consequences of the deal I had just made. If Coulson and SHIELD could find Captain America so early, it would be a game-changer. But there were still so many unknowns, so many variables that could go wrong.

...

Sitting outside, I lit up a cigarette and watched the spooks surrounding the warehouse, their dark suits and shades making them look like something out of a bad spy movie. I wasn't a smoker, and neither was Vito, but I needed something to help me relax, and cigarettes seemed like a better option than indulging my cravings for a drink.

Despite the calm exterior, I projected while discussing terms with Phil Coulson, I was a nervous wreck, and I could barely keep it from showing.

The flickering flame of the lighter caught my attention for a brief moment before I took a drag, the acrid smoke filling my lungs. It didn't bring the calm I was hoping for, but it was something. Anything to distract me from the mounting anxiety gnawing at my insides.

Vito appeared beside me, his usual smug expression plastered on his face. "You know, I've always treated my body as a temple. Just because you took over it doesn't mean you have the right to destroy it."

I sighed, ignoring him. His presence, though a constant irritation, had become an oddly familiar constant, not a good one, per se. Yet it was a slight constant I could begrudgingly lean on in this chaotic world of ever-shifting variables.

It had been two days since Phil Coulson left, and true to his word, he dismissed the police, replacing them with government agents. These spooks were less volatile, less likely to shoot me on sight, but their inscrutable expressions and silent vigilance didn't exactly put me at ease.

The Pals had finally been able to relax and get back to their tasks instead of standing by, waiting for an attack. The Tanzees and Lifmunks went about their duties, tending to the crops and moving resources to and fro around the warehouse. Even the Tombat, with its eerie, mocking meows, seemed more at ease as it stood over the crafting bench, crafting arrows for me.

But I remained on high alert. I knew how deeply HYDRA had infiltrated SHIELD. Any one of those agents outside could be an operative of theirs, plotting God knows what. The thought kept me on edge, every shadow and every movement a potential threat.

My mind continued to race, conjuring all manner of ways and scenarios where everything could go wrong, but I was snapped out of my thoughts by the figure of a man approaching from within the ranks of the spooks.

Unlike the agents in their dark suits, he wore military fatigues and a bowler hat. His blue eyes gleamed with a knowing look, and his thick, rich uncle mustache gave him an air of old-world charm.

I instantly recognized him: Dum Dum Dugan, a member of SHIELD and, in some interpretations, one of the original Howling Commandos.

I frowned at him, calling out, "Timothy Dugan... I thought you'd be part of the search team out to find Captain America."

Dugan grinned, his Boston accent coming through thick. "Didn't think you'd know about me too, mate."

I gave him a blank look, not in the mood for pleasantries.

Dugan shrugged, unbothered. "Wel, I did want to go, but Fury wanted someone trustworthy here, and Coulson insisted on being a part of the search team..." He trailed off with a chuckle. "Always been a big fan of Captain America, that one..."

I didn't react, maintaining my composure. "What do you want?"

He raised his hands in a gesture of peace. "Just a few words, acting on my own. You can refuse if you don't feel like it."

I paused, considering his offer. I had no idea what he wanted. Dugan was known to be belligerent yet trustworthy-- someone worth befriending. After a moment, I sighed and nodded. "Alright, come on in."

...

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