After Coulson left, Carlos asked, "Why join?"
James shrugged. "It's not just for you. I'm interested myself. Sitting on money doesn't excite me. Joining SHIELD keeps life interesting... Plus, they'll help us clean up any leftover problems. They know how this stuff works."
James smiled, already planning his next move.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The design plan was in his hands. James looked it over. It was decent, but the armory still needed work. He grabbed his phone and called the number Phil had given him.
"I need an armory set up at home. Better if you guys handle it. I can pay for everything," James said straight to the point.
"No problem. We'll take care of it. Any design in mind?" the SHIELD contact asked.
"Let your designer handle it. I was just an accountant before all this. We'll talk about weapons later. Just get it started," James replied.
With that handled, he went to sell his Chevrolet Camaro SS. It fetched for only eight thousand dollars. Not great, but he had pushed the car hard coming to New York, making it used and a little beat up. Time to upgrade to a better car later.
Soon after, he and Carlos boarded a flight. Their destination was East Moravia, to meet Carlos's friend — Peckwalski — who currently worked at a monastery.
Once they landed, they took a taxi near the monastery and hiked the rest of the way. Peckwalski was already waiting at the entrance.
"My friend, you're finally free. Congratulations," Peckwalski greeted, hugging Carlos. He turned to James and grinned. "Your son looks much better than you."
"Yeah, he takes after his mother," Carlos said casually. "Come on. We'll be staying here for a while."
Inside, James noticed several looms set up in the hall.
"These are knockoffs?" James asked, eyeing them.
"Yeah. None of them worked though. The Loom of Fate can't be replicated," Peckwalski admitted.
"Not necessarily," James added. "Someone paid Sloan a lot of money. They tried using a software based on the Loom's calculations to predict targets. But the ones calculated weren't the ones who should die."
Peckwalski glanced at Carlos, who nodded. "We don't know who was behind it. They stayed hidden. But it's not our concern anymore."
"Right. The Fraternity is gone. We're out," James agreed. "I'll deal with the looms later. If you could show us to our rooms — we need to rest."
After a good night's sleep, James woke early. These days, he has gotten used to simple morning routines. He cleaned up and went out for a run.
His body, strengthened by the Fraternity's training plan and Cortana's help, felt light and responsive. He wasn't just a killer anymore — soon he'd be a SHIELD agent. Plus, the Tesseract was on his mind. That was the real prize.
Carlos joined him halfway through the run. They jogged together through the tree line. It didn't take long for James to notice the difference between them.
He wasn't at his father's level. Not yet. Not even close. Carlos moved like a predator—Focused and silent pace. James? Still figuring it out. Against powered enemies, he wouldn't stand a chance with his current stats.
That needed to change.
After breakfast, Carlos set a training schedule.
"Starting today, we go all in on marksmanship. No shortcuts. No gimmicks. Just skill."
James gave a nod and double-checked his gear. The Beretta 92F holstered to his left side and the M1911 on his right were both fully loaded and ready.
"Pistols first. You already know them well. Effective range? Around fifty meters. Everything inside that range is fair game."
Carlos walked him through the pistol logic again. "Environmental effects? Practically zero. That's why we use them. Quick, light, and consistent."
James understood. His Beretta 92F was the lighter of the two, great for quick fire and suppression—high capacity, low recoil. His M1911, meanwhile, was a powerhouse. A solid hit to a vital area meant one kill. Even a limb shot could end a fight.
"Learn how to use both. Not just shoot them—understand them," Carlos said.
Instead of firing off rounds, they started with disassembly drills. Over and over, James stripped and rebuilt both guns. Cortana offered breakdown schematics via HUD, but he ignored her help for now. This was about getting it done with his own hands.
Three days passed like that. Break down. Rebuild. Dry fire. Repeat. It reminded him of the Fraternity's early drills—just more precise.
Then came live firing.
Carlos had built a simple but brutal training course in the woods. Static targets, Moving targets, and Obstacle layouts. James ran drills with hundreds of rounds, burning through magazines while pushing himself harder every day. He tracked every shot, adjusted his stance, and corrected his aim using real-time advice from Cortana.
Turning bullets? Still not there. But at least he was hitting moving targets consistently now.
The next three weeks were nothing but lead, sweat, and reflex work. His accuracy climbed fast. It wasn't just good—it was starting to look elite.
"Not bad," Carlos finally said. "You've got the talent. And the work ethic."
"Next up are sniper rifles," he added.
Carlos handed him one of his old custom rifles. It looked more like a prototype than a weapon—crazy-long barrel, special rounds, and high-maintenance. James held it and immediately shook his head.
"This thing's great, but too high-maintenance. Needs parts, tools, even backup shooters for reloads."
"SHIELD could build them for you," Carlos pointed out.
"Yeah. But handing SHIELD custom bullet tech feels like asking to get backstabbed."
Carlos didn't argue. Instead, they agreed to log the rifle's schematics with Peckwalski, just in case James needed them later.
Sniper training began with lectures. Carlos explained the difference: "Handguns with a shorter range ignore the environment. Sniper rifles don't. Everything affects the shot—wind, humidity, temperature, altitude and weight."
James listened, then smiled. "Yeah… I'm cheating this part."
'Cortana, you're on calculations,' he communicated silently.
[Already started,] she replied on his HUD. [Factoring in ballistic drop and crosswind.]
James didn't feel bad. He was never a math guy. Not in his past life, not as an accountant, and definitely not now. Cortana was built for this.
This time, he'd let the AI take the shot.