Coulson looked at the big screen displaying Lake's nationality and immediately understood why Lake had such an attitude toward law enforcement agencies earlier at the repair shop.
One word.
Nationality could explain everything.
As for why he would say that? It was simple. The historical relationship between the United States and Great Britain made it abundantly clear.
In the eyes of the British, America? Nothing more than the descendants of prisoners and the poor.
In the eyes of Americans, Britain? A nation so elegant it bordered on perverse, where even coughing wasn't something you could just do when you felt like it. To put it simply, the British were a people capable of riding a little scooter with an inexplicable sense of pride.
Coulson instantly imagined why Lake, a man in a sharp suit with the air of a successful person, would ride a scooter.
In a nation elegant to the point of absurdity, where even drinking coffee required a sense of ceremony, nothing a Brit did could be considered surprising.
"Sir!"
An agent from SHIELD's New York Operations Center spoke up, looking at Coulson, who stood with his arms crossed in front of the big screen. "Do we need to bring him in for questioning?"
Coulson snapped back to reality and shook his head. "No need. We have more important matters at hand. How many alien-related emergency calls are still unverified?"
An agent sitting at a computer glanced at his screen and said, "After filtering, there are still eighty-three calls."
Coulson asked, "How many field agents are out there?"
Just as the agent was about to respond, a tall woman walked in from outside. "The operations center is already running at maximum capacity, Phil. I need an explanation. You do realize April Fool's Day was yesterday, not today, right?"
Coulson saw the woman, flashed a slight smile, and gave her a brief hug. "Hill, it's been a while."
Natasha, standing nearby, said, "Hey, Hill!"
"Natasha."
After Hill, the director of the New York Operations Center, let go of Coulson, she glanced up at the big screen displaying Lake's information, then turned to Coulson. "You rushed over from Washington this early in the morning, mobilizing all my personnel just to search for this guy? Who is he? British? Another member of some terrorist organization?"
Coulson shook his head. "No, he's just a strange guy I ran into on the road. Just checking him out as a precaution."
Hill nodded. "Phil, your vigilance is as high as ever."
Coulson shrugged and gave his signature good-guy smile.
Hill then said, "You still haven't answered my earlier question. What exactly is going on that made you come all the way from Washington to New York?"
Coulson smiled faintly, glancing up at a room on the upper floor. "Maybe we should talk in the office."
Hill nodded. "Of course."
In the second-floor office of the operations command center's main hall.
"Sorry, all I have is ice water."
Hill took two bottles of ice water from the office fridge and handed them to Coulson and Natasha before inviting them to sit on the sofa. "So, can you tell me now? Even if Washington's Triskelion is headquarters, according to the Security Council's regulations, New York's affairs fall under the unified command and arrangement of the New York Operations Center. And based on the Council's agreement, the New York Operations Center is on equal footing with the Triskelion headquarters."
As the head of SHIELD's New York Operations Center, Maria Hill was a stickler for rules. Rules were what kept everything in order.
Coulson opened his bottle of ice water, took a sip, and glanced around the not-entirely-sealed room.
Hill smiled, walked over to her desk, and pressed a switch underneath it.
Clang!
Clang!
Clang!
Clang!
Four metal panels dropped down in response, completely blocking out the light as the office's soft lighting instantly turned on, making it as bright as day.
Hill looked at Coulson and Natasha on the sofa. "Now, can you tell me?"
Coulson nodded toward Natasha.
Natasha understood, clenched her right fist adorned with a bracelet covering her palm, and with a buzz, a laser projected into the air.
Coulson said from the side, "Hill, do you remember eight years ago today?"
Hill nodded, the corners of her mouth curving slightly upward. "Of course. It was right after that day that the Security Council transferred me to New York to take charge of the operations center."
Eight years ago, Hill had been the deputy director of operations at the Triskelion headquarters in Washington. The director at the time was a certain dark-skinned guy.
Coulson let out a dry laugh but didn't pick up on that thread.
After all, even Coulson wasn't sure whether Hill's transfer was part of a normal process or the result of his boss pulling strings.
Nick needed his subordinates to be obedient—not just to SHIELD, but to him personally.
Maria Hill was clearly not a blindly obedient agent.
Coulson said, "Eight years ago, an extraterrestrial visitor claiming to be hunting a god arrived in the city of Marita, Georgia."
Hill frowned slightly. "Sorry, a god? Hunting? Coulson, you'd better rephrase that."
Coulson spread his hands. "Yes, more accurately, an angry alien came to hunt down her god boyfriend who left without a word."
Hill was speechless.
Coulson mentally reorganized his words again. "Back then, Director Fury made contact with this alien and struck a deal, a mutually beneficial one. She joined us, and we helped her find that god."
Hill snapped back to attention and gave a sudden smile. "A deal? Coulson, if what you're saying is true, why would an alien capable of reaching Earth need our help?"
Coulson said, "Yes, she does need our help."
"Why?"
"Her exact words were that the god she's hunting calls himself the God of Miracles in their universe."
"And?"
"Why do you assume there's an 'and'?"
Hill smiled. "There's always an 'and,' isn't there?"
Coulson chuckled. "In their universe, they call him the God of Oddities. Almost no one has seen his true face. If she showed up to hunt him herself, he'd vanish the moment he sensed her."
Hill frowned again. "Vanish? You just said she's here to hunt him. Why would he disappear?"
Coulson's expression turned odd. "Because the alien we're working with is just the advance party. Once she pinpoints this god's exact location, more than a dozen goddesses—actual goddesses in the truest sense—along with a dozen more near-demigod women, all in a state of righteous fury, will arrive here instantly to apprehend their… husband and drag him back."
"Wait!"
Hill's brows furrowed deeply. "Sorry, what did you just say? Their husband?"
Coulson nodded. "Yes. Let's just say the original universe this alien comes from is one similar to ancient Eastern kingdoms. And the one they're hunting is a male god. According to her description, this male god is, well, a bit wild by nature."
"Does this alien visitor have a name?"
"Yes."
"Her name is Catherine, and she's the commander of the Piltover Branch of the Cosmic Law Enforcement Bureau in their universe."