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"Even so, that still doesn't prove those devices contained Stark Industries' proprietary technology," Nick Fury said, still unconvinced.
Owen Davis explained, "But the devices included cameras and similar equipment, so it's not entirely unrelated. And what's happening behind the scenes isn't just Stark versus Sony.
"The narrative of a U.S.–Japan clash plays very well with certain groups. Sony can't find a single ally—forget lobbyists, they can't even get a foot in the door to negotiate with Stark.
"The old-money circles are just waiting for Sony to show a crack. The moment an opportunity appears, they'll swarm like hyenas. In that situation, even if the evidence isn't airtight, it won't stop a judge from ruling in Stark's favor."
Fury commented dryly, "So Sony's best chance is to frame themselves as the victims and blur the line of corporate espionage. They didn't send anyone to persuade you to overturn the 'lost evidence' conclusion?"
"Oh, of course they did. Why wouldn't they?" Owen snorted. "Their plan was simple—if they could label the transfer of the equipment into their hands as a terrorist act by Henry Brown, then corporate espionage wouldn't even enter the discussion."
"And you didn't agree," Fury said. "Afraid of getting dragged down with them? Compared to abuse-of-power charges, negligence in evidence handling carries a lighter penalty. Am I right?"
Owen Davis shook his head, his tone righteous. "If today's explosion had injured or killed innocent civilians, then for the sake of justice and principle, even if we had to bear legal responsibility, we'd still put the terrorist behind bars.
"But this explosion was a showdown between the wealthy. As for the dead—calling them innocent isn't entirely accurate. I can say with certainty that not a single one of my subordinates wants to be buried alongside Sony.
"We've already signed off on the 'lost evidence' ruling. I'll take the administrative punishment. From that point on, this matter has nothing to do with us. At most, we launch an internal review and reflect on our failures. As for who actually masterminded the bombing—does anyone really care anymore?"
Even if a formal investigation into the explosion were launched, Owen Davis was prepared to find a few petty criminals to step forward and confess to stealing items from the FBI evidence room.
He had no intention of sacrificing his career—or going to prison—just to cover for Sony or the greed of his troublesome subordinates.
Fury sighed helplessly. "True enough. Once Stark Industries' lawyers step in, all the public will care about is how much Sony has to pay."
"Exactly," Owen Davis said, first with a hint of melancholy, then firmly. "That's all they can care about." He drained his whiskey in one go.
He slipped a bill under the glass and stood up. "I'm heading out. I've got mountains of paperwork to deal with, and I still have to write a self-criticism report.
"Damn it—back in the military, I could dump this stuff on the clerks. Why is it that here, I have to do it all myself with no one to help?"
Fury didn't turn his head or move his eyes, only raised his glass slightly in a mock toast. "Think of it this way—those subordinates of yours, following your orders, nearly buried you alive. You'd still trust them with all the paperwork?"
"Fuck!" Owen Davis cursed as he turned and walked away, tossing back one last line. "See you around."
Fury didn't reply. He simply sat there quietly, drinking his favorite bourbon.
Before long, another man in a black suit took the seat Owen Davis had vacated. He had a square face, broad ears, thinning hair, and a shiny forehead—a young man. "Sir."
"Just call me Fury, Coulson."
"Yes, sir," the young man said. He ordered a whiskey from the bartender and adopted the same calm, unobtrusive posture. "Director Davis has already left."
"I know. I'm not worried about him," Fury said. "I asked you here today just to have a drink."
"Thank you, sir."
"You look like you've got a lot of questions. Go ahead—ask."
After taking a sip, Phil Coulson asked, "The Sony building incident… was it really the Skrulls framing Henry Brown?"
"It's possible. Just possible," Fury replied. "From a timing perspective, the Skrulls did have the opportunity. But what does your intuition tell you? Who do you think did it?" He was testing the newcomer.
Phil Coulson thought for a while, then shook his head. "I can roughly infer the Skrulls' behavioral patterns. They're infiltration specialists—spies who exploit every available tool and relationship. But I don't know Henry Brown well."
"Cautious. That's smart," Fury said. "And that's exactly what I appreciate about you. You think for yourself instead of blindly following orders."
"…Sir, do you think disobeying orders is a good thing?"
"No, of course not. But people who only know how to obey orders belong in the military. Our organization needs more flexible minds—otherwise we'll just repeat the same mistakes as before."
Such an unreserved compliment made Coulson, who hadn't been out of the Army for long, feel embarrassed. He quickly changed the subject. "Sir, then who do you think the mastermind was?"
"Henry Brown," Fury answered instantly, without hesitation.
"But hasn't he been constantly framed by the Skrulls?" Coulson asked. "Even though we don't know why."
Fury analyzed calmly. "Henry Brown is full of mysteries. For example, his life before the age of twenty practically doesn't exist.
"A competent spy, even if they can't fabricate a perfect background, will at least fill in something to prove their assumed identity existed.
"Someone like Henry Brown—who leaves nothing at all—is utterly unqualified by that standard. Of course, now we know why. Because he isn't even human.
"The fact that he earned Tony Stark's trust speaks volumes about his intelligence. But he's not some bookish nerd. This man is shrewd.
"A shrewd man like that, instead of leveraging a legal team to tear into the FBI over its mistakes, simply signed the agreement, took the compensation—and then Sony blew up right afterward.
"If you tell me he had nothing to do with it, would you believe it? The only thing I can't figure out is how he triggered the bomb. That's the key to whether he can be directly linked to the incident."
Coulson was shocked. "But… that's not what you said to Director Davis just now."
"Because he doesn't need that explanation," Fury said flatly. "No one wants to go after Henry Brown. Otherwise, do you think he wouldn't have figured out who the prime suspect was?
"You don't seriously believe someone promoted to Assistant Director in Charge lacks basic judgment, do you?"
"No, sir, that's not what I meant," Coulson said quickly. After a moment's thought, he added, "Then should we consider Henry Brown a dangerous individual?"
Fury shook his head. "Does he warrant attention? Absolutely. Is he dangerous? Not necessarily. In this case, he simply found the best possible point to strike back—and he struck back."
"Even if innocents were harmed?"
"Are thieves innocent?" Fury countered.
Coulson tilted his head, thought for a moment, then said hesitantly, "Ah… when you put it that way, maybe not so innocent after all."
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