To Be An Agent of S.H.I.E.L.D (Marvel)(MCU)

Carlos chuckled. "Busy lately?"

"Not really. I think I can take a vacation soon. How's Hannah doing?"

"She's great. Smart, capable. You picked well. That's just the employee side, of course. There's more to learn."

James smiled. "Glad to hear it."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

James returned home late that night. By the next morning, he drove to the New York SHIELD Division to update his credentials—now officially being a Level Four Agent.

"Only one level? I guess it's better than nothing," he muttered, slipping the new ID into his pocket.

After that, he headed straight to the Expo grounds to scout for a viable sniper point. He needed a clear line of sight—but one that still offered enough cover. Flying was off the table. Until Cortana's upgrade finished, he would be relying on his raw skills.

While James scoped out the site, Ivan Vanko was preparing himself. He'd built a special suit for himself and an entire regiment of Iron Drones, each remote-controlled and enhanced with the best materials Justin Hammer could give.

Tony Stark was already on alert. He didn't have specifics, but he knew Vanko wouldn't pass up a second shot at revenge—not with Hammer bankrolling him.

Tony called Colonel Rhodes. "Get used to your suit fast. We might need you soon for the grand reveal."

The tension built quietly until Hammer's product launch finally began.

"James, you ready?" Tony's voice came through the comm. He hovered nearby in full armor, waiting for the first sign of trouble.

"Ready. I'm 2,300 meters from the main entrance. But I've got no angle on aerial targets. You get eyes on their new product?"

"Yeah. Iron Soldiers. Four types: Air Force, Navy, Army, and Marine Corps."

"Figures. You handle the Air Force units. If the rest stay on the ground, I'll take care of them. But if they take off? I'm out."

"You sure you don't want to suit up yourself?"

"Doesn't fit my style. Besides, if I do my job right, I only need one bullet per target. These bots are definitely remote-controlled. Keep an eye out for antenna placements."

Today marked the end of Cortana's three-day upgrade cycle, so she will come online soon. But for now, James was flying solo, no AI support and no assistive tech. He'd left his Iron Man armor behind on purpose. Too bulky for his adapted combat style.

Tony checked in again. "I'll have Rhodes back you up if things go sideways... Hold on, I've got a call."

He answered on speaker. Both Rhodes and James could hear it—Ivan Vanko, gloating.

"Well," Tony said, hanging up, "That's his declaration. Now it's our turn. I'll go in and draw fire. You two engage once they're in motion."

"No," Rhodes argued. "That's my job. I'm a soldier. So let me lead."

"It won't work. His target's me. So I'll go, and that's final."

With that, Tony launched into the air and streaked toward the Expo. James adjusted the bipod of his Barrett M82A1 and lined up the scope. With no Cortana. Just using his learned skills and pure instinct.

The magazine was already loaded with armor-piercing rounds. He racked the first round and took aim.

"Thirty-two Iron Soldiers confirmed—eight of each variant. I'm going in," Tony said over the comms.

He landed directly on stage and stared down Hammer.

"Where's Ivan Vanko?"

The entire line of robots turned to face Tony.

Without hesitation, Tony shot skyward as the Iron Soldiers opened fire. The glass ceiling shattered under the barrage.

"Eight Air Force drones in pursuit!" he shouted.

"I'm on it," Rhodes confirmed, taking off to intercept.

James, listening intently, asked, "You catch where the antennas are?"

"In the head. All of them," Tony replied.

"Perfect."

James zeroed in on the main entrance. Civilians were fleeing in chaos. Behind them came the Army and Navy drones.

His heart rate spiked. Everything slowed, Focusing to the max.

The moment the drones reached his line of sight, he fired.

BOOM.

With no time to check the result. He cycled another round, lined up with the next target.

Through the scope, he caught sight of a Navy drone from his first shot—its head obliterated, pieces raining down as he aimed at the drone just next to it.

BOOM.

Second shot. He focused on the Navy drones—their shoulder-mounted ordnance made them priority targets.

BOOM.

Another kill.

The remaining drones pushed down the front stairs, but six were already gone. James's presence hadn't gone unnoticed—Vanko had used the drone sensors to trace his location.

Army units locked their feet in place and turned their guns toward his perch.

Two more Navy drones were disabled by James before they could act— all a clean shot to the antenna.

With no signal, they were now broken tech.

Incoming fire from the Army Drones shoulder mounted autocannon.

James didn't flinch. He dropped the rifle, drew his twin pistols, the Beretta 92F and M1911, and opened fire—not on the drones, but on their incoming shells.

His vision sharpened.

His adrenaline surged.

Time slowed.

The trajectory of each shell became visible.

Boom. Boom. Boom. One by one, he detonated them mid-air. The APHE (Armor-Piercing High-Explosive). Weak and easy to read, easy to intercept.

Overhead, Tony and Rhode finished off the eight Air Force drones.

But the last Marine drones still remained. 

All eight of them launched into the air, now targeting Tony.

James used the explosions as cover and hit the ground towards his sniper. He reloaded the Barrett, rolled into position, and waited for the smoke to clear.

Vanko, focused on Tony, which shifted fire away from James.

Another opportunity given.

BOOM.

Reload.

BOOM.

Reload.

Eight shots in Fourteen point Four seconds—each one precise, methodical, and lethal.

Most people couldn't even control the recoil of the Barrett M82A1's .50 caliber rounds. But James wasn't most people. His enhanced body absorbed the recoil like an absolute tank.

"Sixteen confirmed kills," James said over comms. "You two are moving too slow. Also, make sure to destroy the heads. Leave nothing behind."