You've Got to keep BOTH Eyes Open (A Nick Fury Shield Quest)

Home and Home Bases


(Fury's POV)

"So how did it go?" Asked Phil Coulson, my oldest friend, war buddy, and brother in everything-but-blood; as I strode out of the meeting room, rubbing my eye which had become blurry from the bright light.

"Well, I've just been made the director of an organization that, until a few hours ago, didn't even exist. And they've only given us six million in start-up capital." I replied, groaning as Phil calculated the implications.

"Maria's not going to be happy about that, Nick. She rarely likes anything we get her involved in," Phil observed. "Even for us, that's a steep climb."

"That's why we won't tell her until I've managed to pull some favors and secure us a solid base to work from." I said.

"I know you've got some old favors to call in, but you should really consider telling her gently," Phil suggested.

"You want me to be gentle about this?" I asked, incredulous at the sheer gall of the man. "Do you remember who you're talking to?"

"I'm just saying, Nick, ensuring your teammates sanity is a good way of keeping their loyalty." He insisted.

"Don't throw my dad's words back at me, especially when you hardly understand them." I retorted.

"We had lunch after Desert Storm, Nick. Your dad was very charming, although a bit heavy on the cigar smoke. But besides that, he was a solid guy with good advice." Phil recounted.

"Like I said, don't bring up Senior, it's hard enough being compared to him as it is." I grumbled.

"You might have appreciated his advice, though," Phil suggested.

"You thought wrong. And if you don't bring it up again, I'll tell Maria myself," I said.

"Good, now you're thinking like a director Nick," Phil acknowledged.

"I hate you, man, and your ceaseless optimism," I admitted.

"Someone has to be the optimist, and it's clearly not going to be you." He quipped.

A few hours later…

"SIX MILLION AND AN IOU?!" Maria Hill shouted as Phil and I hid below in front of her desk as she threw a staple grappler at the wall behind us. "We might as well get a 'Get Well Soon' card while we're at it. That's not a budget, Nick; that's an exercise in futility! I mean, do you know how much I usually must pay to cover up your messes, six million does not even cover half of a normal disaster for the both of you!!!"

"I understand the difficult situation we find ourselves in, Maria. The problem isn't the resources we have; it's how we use them. Can we survive as an organization until more funds can be secured by our superiors, or not?" I asked, feeling the weight of the question and the need for an answer from someone more confident in mathematics than myself.

"It can be done, with some clever frugality and by leveraging unconventional forms of currency, like your reputation, any favors we can scrounge up from our stockpiles and maybe unofficially taking from some unwanted drug lords." She said after taking a few moments to calm down herself.

'Good, good. I could work with that answer.' I though.

"There's just one problem, Nick." She said.

'Oh no, complications, the bane of my existence, besides my family.' I though.

"We'd have to find a way to move whatever we can get ourselves, and we lack the manpower to actually do it." She finished.

"But it can get us somewhere," Phil noted.

"Yes." She said.

"I've already got a possible place in mind." I said.

====================================================

Choose your Base:

[] Silicon Valley, California:

The Tech Boom Capital of the US, currently, and home to one of the fastest growing RnD sectors in the country, if you think about it tech is the way of the future and you need it all at your fingertips to work, especially after seeing what mad scientist was capable off. (+1 Reroll to Learning per turn)

[] Langley, Virginia:

Intelligence wins wars, it also solves investigations and needs databases, and while you'd stay out of their business, working out in one of Langley's old offices would be easier then starting from scratch. (+1 Reroll to Intrigue per turn)

[] Washington DC:

Ahh, Dirty City, where favors are king and smooth words are currency, you've never enjoyed the place, but it's set up to deal with the diplomatic blowback from the new organization's creation and actions. Luckily the Director of the FBI owes you a favor and is willing to allow you to rent a small office in the Hoover Building. (+1 Reroll to Diplomacy per turn)

[] Edwards Airforce Base, California:

The commander of the base owes a favor and is willing to let you use a small building in his base in exchange for 'spook' favors if required. Having the HQ around a military base would provide good security, not to mention a good pool of candidates to recruit in the future. (+1 Reroll to Martial per turn)

[] Dallas, Texas:

A strange outlier from recent times. Dallas is a growing financial capital, being a fair and modest rise to diversify from the aerospace industry. As for where, well, the Director of NASA is looking for people to rent out some of their empty buildings for some very much needed capital. (+1 Reroll to Steward per turn)

AN: Choose your main base, hammer out your reasoning and have fun!

Also you can post omakes now!

Omake:

Desperation for Money

Two days later after Council Meeting:

You sit in your old apartment, surrounded by a few bags holding clothes, weapons and corresponding ammo and what truly few personal belongings you had.

The place, despite having been yours for years; never felt like a home, it felt more like a temporary shelter than a home, a place where he could just rest before getting sent on your next operation.

Either way, as you sit in the middle of the dark room; mostly as a small way to train your remaining eye to get used to dark places; you could not help but think on what is to come.

From still getting used to your new agency's long as hell name ("Note to self, ask Coulson to find a way to shorten it."), the fact that the agency was only composed of you, Coulson, and Maria; the moving to the agency's meager HQ, and the last and most certainly important, the meager budget that was giving to you to work with by the Council.

Only six million dollars to start up a federal agency.

"Fucking damn bureaucratic assholes. How the hell am I supposed to run a federal agency with this amount for a budget and the fact that it's not a monthly budget I am getting; which I have no doubt Maria could make magic with it; but that it was just a single payment with no other income available that fucking stings." You said in anger.

You were still smoldering in anger when an idea came to your head.

A rather stupid idea, but an idea non the less.

You hold your breath as you pull out your flip phone, quickly flipping through your contacts list until you land on one marked with the initials 'RVB'. A sigh escapes your lips as you contemplate calling the person behind those initials. Your finger hovers over the call button, the weight of the decision pressing on you. Finally, you lift your finger, snapping the phone shut.

"I'm not that desperate yet," you say aloud, the words echoing off the bare walls. "No way I'm asking one of my 'brothers' for a loan, especially not him. That'd mean dealing with his annoying antics and him worrying about the loss of my eye and I am not in the mood to carry around a bottle of blood to make him stay away."

You chuckle dryly, shaking your head. The thought of asking for financial help, especially from rather extended paternal family ("Sometimes I wonder how the hell dad managed to get around with so many women."), doesn't sit well with you. Pride, perhaps; the desire to prove that you can handle this colossal task on your own terms, or just plain avoiding the insanity of some of your brothers.

Then again, with the things you have seen and experienced, you wonder if you are now just as insane as some of them.

"You've got this, man," you mutter to yourself, setting the phone down. "There's got to be another way. There's always another way. Maybe I will just continue the time honor tradition of the CIA, use money stolen from drug lords or some shit."