Marvel's Agent Belova

"How have you been my friend." The faceless man says as the scenery turns from a spruce, damp swamp to a dry, warm desert. This guy has been trying to ware me down mentally by putting me in the most exhausting places I've ever been in. I can't say it's not working though.

I let him hear mental silence as I bide my time. Although he's shown a bit of weakness, it isn't good enough for me to act on it.

I turn my face to look at him and I scowl.

He smiles. Not with his teeth. He doesn't have any. It's just a crease on his blank face that I've assigned to the act of smiling. His voice raises by a pitch and his body movements are more fluid when he has that expression. The fact that he has this dumb a.s.s convulsion whenever he laughs with that expression also helps me know he's laughing.

But this helps me learn a few things from him none the less.

Unlike him, I'm no mind reader. I'm no mind mutant. What I am is experienced. Although I can't see his facial features due to the fact that he has none, I could examine his body language. He thinks he has me beat. That I've finally cracked under all this pressure. That's he's won. Like he always has.

Although I don't know about mutants, professionals have a sort of arrogance that varies between each person. But I know that their arrogance always peaks just before they win. Just before they think they've won.

I look at the faceless man, although he has no features, you could see the indents in parts of his face. He's smiling pretty wide by now and it's going to cost me sleepless nights to continue to look at him.

This is leading to his arrogance and carelessness peaking. And I will use that to my advantage.

"Aww, you poor little boy," He says with a clear mocking tone, "What happened to Mr. Agent? What happened to your strength? What happened to your pride as a professional?"

He almost snarled the last bit.

He looks for my reaction but I don't give him one. I just stare at him and he stares back.

He starts crackling. His unsettling voice that even a mother wouldn't love rang out in my ears.

'F*ck you', I thought.

He, reading my mind, goes into an even bigger laughing fit.

"You - haha - you thin-" Before he could muster an insult, I used [Mental Spike].

I felt a warm feeling lessen in my body. I felt a portion of energy disappear. My eyes threatening to close, permanently.

I'm tired. Dangerously tired. I have to finish this quickly.

I felt the world stop moving. Time became irrelevant as everything around me froze.

This isn't good. Guardian, what's happening?

「You caused a rift in the Mutant's mind, effectively causing permanent brain damage」

This makes me smile. That man who thought he was the king of the world permanently damaged. I wondered which part of his brain was affected. Hopefully the part that made him special. The part that granted him this wonderful gift. The part I envy.

I took a deep breath to gather myself. I was getting distracted.

Can I kill him from here? End this permanently?

「Yes, but you risk not returning back to your own mind. Currently you reside in the bridge made of mental energy. If his mind becomes dead, the bridge will lose a pillar and collapse.」

I sigh as I start thinking about my choices. Strategizing my options and ranking them biased on my training.

The best option would be leaving this place and killing the mutant on the outside. If he's not brain dead by now and he still has his abilities, I would have effectively gotten myself a dangerous nemesis. So it's either killing him now and risk not making it to my brain or risk the chance of him surviving this if I can't kill him on the outside.

Forget it, he's probably already a vegetable. I'll kill him when I return to my body. I'll make him stay down permanently. Even if I can't, what's he going to do?

Weakness has no place in Russia. They'll eat him up alive before he has a chance to speak.

Suddenly a prompt flew up to me. The intricately designed system panels showed one question.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

「Return to body | Accept | Decline」

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Is that even a question you need answered.

I pressed [Accept]

...

I open my eyes and I tried to look at my surrounding.

Sadly, those bots already blind folded me.

I took in a deep breath. This would be very difficult if I didn't already have a tool for that.

[Tactical Mode]

The walls turned bluish and transparent as I was able to see the position of everyone around me.

There were two main guards guarding where ever I was. They had rifles with scoped optics.

Their choice of weaponry was balanced and suited a solo mission, not guarding a base or a potential person of interest. If I were them, I'd have a shotgun. It's perfect for Close Quarter Combat. In a place where there is cover everywhere, you need something that has a lot of spread damage. Seeing as how life isn't a game, one pellet can permanently down someone.

But this inches the odds so ever in my favor.

I looked around more and an unconscious person was in front of me. Their vitals were constant but slow.

I took a sigh of relief.

Sharon was okay. A little banged up but okay.

I released a breath I didn't even know I was holding.

Look, I'm not superstitious or anything but if I lose an agent on my first mission back, I might have to reconsider this Agent of S.H.I.E.L.D. thing.

I take another deep breath and push those thoughts to the back of my mind.

I have to focus on the mission.

Although I was kidnapped and mentally exhausted from the mental torture, I still have a mission to complete.

"Agent." I whispered low as I acted as if I was still unconscious. Although the guards were outside, I still couldn't rule out possible surveillance systems.

She didn't respond.

Great, she's out cold. And I probably can't wake her up without getting the attention of the guards. I'm alone on this one. Again.

I mentally step back and make a mini list of information I gathered.

I had only one shot at this and I didn't want to waste it.

I move my wrists to see how tight my bindings were.

- Wristle

It was pretty tight. God dammit! I'm going to have to use it.

The Wolf Ops has put lock picks in different parts of our bodies for easy accessibility. The only one that works in this situation is the one I'd rather not use. But if it's for the mission...and my survival...

I took a deep breath.

This shit is going to hurt a lot.

I took a couple shallow breaths to keep me awake.

I need to somehow detach my finger nail in my pointer finger.

Shit, I hate this so much.

I feel my way to the corner of the chair. I feel the material and calculate the amount of force needed to detach my finger nail.

I lodge my finger nail in between the chair and my flesh.

I take another deep breath as I started pushing on the corner.

-Sitch

I feel my fingernail rip up as I try my best not to make a noise.

- wooph

-whooh

I breath in and out. Until I was certain that I wouldn't make a noise.

I reach my left hand and guide it to my nailess pointer finger. I insert my finger into the flesh and pull on the metal.

"Arg." I groan as my hands shake. I couldn't stop myself. I never had to actually use the lock pick before.

Shit! I've made to much noise.

I activate [Tactical Mode] and scout everyone's positions. Well, everyone that mattered.

The two guards stayed in position and acted like nothing was wrong. One of them was just shaking their head as if this was normal.

"✣He finally cracked huh?✣" One of the guards says with a smirk, "✣Gotta give it to him, he's one tough son of a b*tch.✣"

"✣But of course, this is Mitch were talking about. He'll make anyone crack.✣" The other guard says with a weird but strong sense of pride. As if he was 'Mitch' himself.

"✣They always ended up cracking.✣" The first guard admits, "✣This guy just held out longer than any. Hell, even the girly was screaming by thirty minutes. This man endured four hours.✣"

Hearing their conversation, I felt myself calming once again. They haven't caught on to me.

Although this shit hurted, I was calm enough to proceed to the next step.

Lock picking.

I swallowed my saliva build up as I began going through the steps I've been taught. First step is remembering the parts of a handcuff a.k.a. knowing which parts I need to target.

I feel myself going back to the training room. The chairs and natural lighting. The students and the chairs. The instructor with a diagram of the cuffs.

I take in the scene.

"Fundamentally, there are two parts to a handcuff." The instructor says as she makes a circular motions at the parts where she ways talking about, "The circular parts and the link. The important part is the circular parts."

The diagram changes to show three different images.

"There are usually three types of handcuffs. The chained, the hinged, and the solid bar." She explains as she points to the different types of handcuffs.

"The chained allows more movement of the wrists than the rest. So hope if you're captured, that they use this one on you. They're the easiest to get out of because of the motion that they give you." She says pointing to the first hand cuff. They were two circular rings with a little chain connecting them.

"The hinged is a bit more difficult but it'll take time and cost you a lot of skin. Make sure you get it checked out unless you want an infection. The solid bar is -" She says before she stops. Maybe to gather her thoughts and proceed in a different direction.

"The solid bar is doable. Not impossible but doable." She says with a smile, "Now don't be discouraged. Handcuffs don't have the most complex locks. Heck even an experienced criminal can escape one given enough time."

She turns and looks at us one by one.

"And we've trained you better than some coward." She says with a stern but prideful graze. "For the Mother Land!"

"For the Mother Land!" We yelled in unison.

I took a deep breath and I found myself back in the room. Sharon in front of me and cuffs still restricting my hands.

I know what to do. I remember now.

I grab the lock picks and start working on the lock.