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Reyes turned as the door to the trophy room opened and Nick Fury stepped out, holding a small golden ball in his hand.
"John Wick, is this the small favor you mentioned?" Fury looked at Reyes with a calm, steady gaze. "Yes, I can confirm it."
"You?" Reyes was skeptical.
Fury produced his identification and spoke in a measured tone. "There is a deal between Taran Industries and the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division. Their weapons have proven very useful."
The moment Reyes heard that long, awkward name, a flicker of apprehension crossed her face. She had not expected John to actually bring in someone who could vouch for those questionable accounts.
As District Attorney, Reyes knew more about S.H.I.E.L.D. than most citizens. While not as famous as the FBI or CIA, their power was immense. So immense that even a local prosecutor with considerable influence had no way to challenge that authority. S.H.I.E.L.D. answered only to the World Security Council.
Reyes took a deep breath, adjusting her composure. "Very well, John Wick, you are more resourceful than I thought."
John shrugged. "I am just a legitimate businessman. If you want, you can check our taxes. Everything is aboveboard."
In America, no matter what business you are in, owing taxes is a more serious crime than murder. On this point, John was not lying. His father had always been law-abiding, even paying taxes on hotel purchase invoices, which showed just how relentless the tax authorities could be.
Reyes realized her goal had slipped away. Her face grew dark with frustration. The most embarrassing part was that she had been outmaneuvered by John. The person holding the leverage now was not Reyes, but John.
Looking at her assistant, John smiled with a glint in his eyes. "If you are ever interested in running for District Attorney, you can come find me anytime."
The assistant was flattered, but Reyes shot John a fierce glare and quickly left the house.
After they departed, only John and Fury remained.
Fury held the golden snitch in his hand. "Last time this little thing flew out, do you not owe me an explanation?"
John's smile faded as he glanced at the golden snitch. "It is just a small flying device with a battery inside. My father liked to collect these little trinkets."
The explanation was flimsy, and Fury released his fingers. The golden snitch vibrated its wings and darted away, vanishing in a streak of gold.
Fury raised an eyebrow. "What kind of battery is that? Can you tell me about it?"
"Magic Power brand," John replied with a smirk. "You cannot buy it anywhere."
If you could buy a golden snitch in the Muggle world, it would be a miracle.
Without even looking, John caught another golden snitch on his left and folded it back into a ball in his palm.
He no longer looked like someone asking for help. Instead, he spoke casually. "Speak up. Sneaking into my house again. Do all you S.H.I.E.L.D. people have this habit?"
Fury's one good eye lingered on the touch-controlled table. "Stark sent you a lot of things."
"I heard from Natasha that you like equivalent exchange," Fury said, pacing the living room. "I helped you, so now you help me. That is what you call equivalent exchange."
John scoffed. "You are mistaken. Equivalent exchange requires equivalence. I cannot kill the President for you just because you helped me once."
Fury bit back his usual retort, his expression darkening. "I am not asking you to kill the President. I want you to save someone for me."
"Rescue someone?" John rummaged through his pockets, pulled out a business card with Dr. Wu's contact number, and handed it over. "Tell him John Wick recommended you. If you cannot afford the medical bills, I can help a little."
Fury gave John a long look. This was not the attitude he had shown when asking for a favor earlier. Sure enough, John was just like his father.
As the Director of S.H.I.E.L.D., Fury forced himself to remain composed.
"I need your help, John," he said, his voice grave. "This matter concerns S.H.I.E.L.D. and even the United States."
He tried to broaden the stakes. John thought for a moment and asked, genuinely puzzled, "From what I see, it has nothing to do with the United States. Why do you think that would move me?"
John Wick, in his previous life, had been Asian. In this life, he was born in Britain to a Russian mother, and now he was the King of the Magical Country. No matter which identity he used, none of them had much to do with America.
John's sincere question left Fury momentarily speechless.
Still, John continued, "However, equivalent exchange. As long as you offer enough, I can help you."
Fury studied John, then glanced at his own reflection in the window, weighing whether he could win in a fight. "What do you want?"
"That depends on what you want me to do," John replied with a smile. "If it is not a big deal, maybe you do not need to pay extra."
Finally, Fury agreed.
***
The Director of S.H.I.E.L.D. drove the car himself, which was a rare honor. Even at a traffic light, Fury glanced at John in the back seat through the rearview mirror and could not help but grumble, "Do I look like your driver?"
Usually only the boss sits in the back, and it annoyed Fury to no end.
John replied with mock sincerity, "I do not like people sitting next to me. Natasha should have told you."
Fury kept a straight face, holding back his irritation.
***
In the hospital ward, John stared at the famous star-spangled shield, then looked at the sleeping figure in the bed.
"So, you brought me here to see a sleeping beauty?" John asked, a hint of amusement in his voice.
Agent Hill stood beside Fury. Coulson had been transferred to Project Pegasus and was not present.
From the time he was found until now, the super soldier had been lying there for half a year. With Dr. House's diagnosis, there was a chance he might never wake up. Fury needed another solution.
"Why did you call me?" John approached the sleeping man and waved a hand in front of his closed eyes.
"Are you really going to play dumb?" Fury asked, exasperated. "You know magic."
"Fine, I will be direct," Fury said, moving to the other side of the bed. "You had a conflict with Stark. He did not share the details, but we pieced together the clues. You thought you covered your tracks, but cameras in some shops caught you vanishing from a burning car."
"If it was not magic, there is no way you could travel from London to New York instantly," Fury said, locking eyes with John. "You are a wizard, John."
John clapped slowly. "As expected of S.H.I.E.L.D."
Fury stepped closer. "Wizards entering the country must report. That is our agreement with the wizarding world. You broke the rules. If you do not want to be deported, stop playing games with me."
Wizards and Muggles had a pact. As the agency that protected the world, S.H.I.E.L.D. could not ignore such things. There were complexities in this world that even S.H.I.E.L.D. struggled to understand. Wizards were one of them.
Unlike the sorcerers of Kamar-Taj, the wizarding world had clashed with the Muggle world before the turn of the millennium. That collision had led to the current agreement between the two worlds. Wizards were no longer hidden outsiders. They had to obey the law and live in various countries. This agreement was known among high-level officials.
After learning about John, Fury had paid close attention and guessed his true identity. A wizard.
Since technology could not wake the patient, perhaps magic could.
After Fury finished, John just looked at the man on the hospital bed.
"I am sorry, you are mistaken," John said with a calm smile. "I am the one making demands, not you."
His gaze lingered on the shield. "That is quite a nice item. Equivalent exchange, right?"
Even as Fury tried to corner him, John's composure made Fury hesitate.
Fury looked at the shield and shook his head. "Impossible. That is his symbol."
"Then give me something else. I will accept the same material," John said, drawing his wand with his left hand. "The choice is yours, Fury."
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