Chapter Text
"Agent," Desmond looks a touch perplexed at the folder Coulson's just handed her, "you certain you want me for this one?"
"Yes, Desmond," Coulson's visage giving her nothing, "you've been chosen for this particular mission not only for your skill-sets," he clears his throat, "but also your powers," he actually looks apologetic as the words are spoken.
"Am I your last resort?" she dislikes her powers, she can't quite recall as to why but she dislikes them none the less.
"There were three others with similar backgrounds to your own that were assigned to this mission before we ultimately had to assign you," Coulson has a sad gleam in his eyes that speaks more than his words will, "I don't want go into the deeper details as to what happened to them but I will say your ability to distort reality is needed not only so this recon mission will finally get us the information we want but it'll also keep you from suffering the same way the others did."
"Is there anything else other than what's in here I need to know of?" this folder holds the basic information she'll need but something tells her there's more to this than meets the eye. Most with her lineage don't see underneath the underneath, they don't understand that shades of grey can and will kill you if ignored.
"Why is it you're the only one who asked that question?" because she knows that while 'learning to run before you can walk' is a good philosophy for learning something new, caution is best practiced when going into a situation that can lead to one's death.
"I don't have the best survival instincts," and she doesn't, just ask her dad, "but I do have enough brains to read between the lines Agent," the man snorts harshly.
"Stark's and their sass," Coulson pinches his nose, "Why must you all backtalk? Even the AIs," he looks exasperated, "yes there's more to it than meets the eye," he hands her a larger file, "They have one of the oldest beings in existence in their grasp," he shakes his head, "though I don't doubt the man couldn't escape if he so chose," looks at the man's picture worriedly, "he and his partner had a falling out in the sixties and has been in their care since."
"Malik," her eyes go wide, "Al-Sayf and Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad," her jaw might as well have dropped to the floor by this point. It's a shock to see them looking no different from the illustrations presented to her by her tutors, at the same time it explains so many inconsistencies she'd placed at their feet as well, "How Coulson, just how?"
"They're soulmates," he pinches his nose, "as you well know many an alien society thought of Earth as a prison of sorts and when their kind rose up against them..."
"They split in half and sent here as punishment," she sympathized for reasons she wasn't totally sure of but if Sansa and Maegor's relationship were anything to go by then she could understand as to how much pain both must be it, "but why are they involved in this? Why do they have him?"
"That's the information we haven't quite garnered yet and what you're to obtain."
"Everything else is in the folder?"
"Not quite," he looks down again, "Not every agent died in the same manner Des," he turns over a page he knows isn't in her more detailed file, "He's known as the 'King of Swords' killer of soulmates," he turns a bit green, "He practically tore Smith in half," that put a not so pretty picture in her head and Desmond is relatively certain she looks just as green as he does, "and ripped Torez's heart out of her chest," and her heart breaks a bit, "We've found the child a loving family don't worry over it Stark," Coulson says a bit too harshly. If there's one thing you can count on it's that Starks have bigger hearts than brains and they all have high IQs.
"Everyone but himself and Altair?" he must have ordered the sacking of Masayf then as well, "He's the founder of the Templars," his eyes are hard and his face even more stoic than usual, most may not notice it but Coulson has gentle eyes and that hardness makes her worry, it means she's right and her being right never leads to anything good, "Distortion will allow me to escape in more than one way if things go south?"
"Yes," his answer resounding and absolute. Coulson is one of the few people she'll take at face value, he's not prone to lying like Fury and doesn't have Rogers' arrogance and actually cares for the agents under his command.
"When do I leave?" she smirks, plans and calculations already appearing in her mind's eye.
"Asap," no time to pack then, "they'll be easy to manipulate and given Starktech isn't detectable..."
"I'll call every evening as usual," for as much as she's an adult and esteemed S.H.I.E.L.D. agent he still views her as the wide-eyed trainee that stumbled through his office door all those years ago.
Once out of the office she leans her head against the door and wonders just what in the hell she's been thrown into. Oh well, marching orders are marching orders and she'll complete the mission to the best of her capabilities.