In America, if you want to become president, you've got to meet three hard requirements.
First: you must be born in the country.
Back on Earth, why couldn't Elon Musk, the world's richest man, run for president? Simple—he wasn't born in the U.S.
Finnian Murdock met this requirement.
Second: you've got to be at least thirty-five years old.
Finn was twenty-three. Twelve years later—in 2020—he'd hit that number easily. Time was on his side.
Third: you need to have lived in the United States for at least fourteen years.
Finn checked that box too.
But once those constitutional requirements are out of the way, there are the real conditions.
The non-written, but usually necessary ones: party support and nomination, political experience, public image, campaign funds, and the ability to survive the brutal election process.
Finn had already mapped out some paths for himself: become a nationally famous superhero, maybe even run for New York City Council… step by step.
But one thing was clear—he had to rise as a superhero first. And not like Superman, who got treated like a punching bag despite saving everyone's asses. No, Finn's hero image would be the opposite—respected, untouchable.
His chance was coming soon. The Hulk and the Abomination would be tearing up the streets of New York not long from now.
If Finn played it right, if he boosted the destruction, it would make his own heroic entrance that much more impressive.
"Heh. Genius. As wise as ever," he muttered, grinning.
Hill, curled up in his arms, rubbed her cheek against his chin. "What are you smiling about? What's going through that head of yours?"
"I want to work with you in the future," Finn said smoothly.
Hill rolled her eyes. Yeah right. If that's true, why'd you refuse me so many times last night?
Finn caught her look and groaned. "What? You don't believe me? Guess I didn't try hard enough… Take my Dragon Claw—"
-XXXXX-
By the time the lovebirds finally arrived at S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters, the sun was already high in the sky.
And why call it "stinking S.H.I.E.L.D."? Easy—because half the agents inside were secretly HYDRA.
S.H.I.E.L.D. Headquarters – Conference Room
Hill's smile vanished as she switched to professional mode. In a lowered, pleading voice, she warned, "Our director is Black. Please… try to control your temper."
Bang! Finn slammed his palm against the table and stood.
"Fuck, when did some people's status get so high?"
His new public persona—crafted for his future political run—was taking shape: the outsider, the firebrand. "Make the rednecks great again."
Hill covered her face with her hand, sighing. She knew this was coming. Still… in a place where plenty of agents shared the sentiment, one more loudmouth wouldn't matter much.
The doors opened. In strode a tall, bald, one-eyed man in a black trench coat. Nick Fury.
"Welcome to the Strategic Homeland Defense, Attack, and Logistics Support Agency."
Right—S.H.I.E.L.D. hadn't officially adopted its acronym yet.
"Please take care of me in the future," Finn said with mock politeness.
Fury nodded, clearly pleased with himself. The glory of being Director suited him.
Years ago, a man like Finn—white, tall, handsome—would have been his master, and Fury the one kneeling. Now the roles were reversed.
"Murdock, you'll be following Agent Coulson for the time being," Fury said. "After your internship, I'll assign you an agent rank."
There it was. The real reason Fury had sent Hill to "recruit" Finn in the first place. To put him near Coulson, to connect him to Stark, to sniff out the truth behind Stark's miraculous return.
No matter how it played out, Fury stood to gain. Triple-win.
"Fine," Finn muttered, annoyed. Lucky, I got Coulson instead of someone else. Can't stand looking at Fury too long.
As quickly as he appeared, Fury disappeared.
Coulson stepped up, smiling warmly. He took Finn through the employment paperwork. By the time Finn held his official agent ID in his hand, he was no longer just a civilian—he was a government agent.
The first step on a long road.
"Come on, Murdock," Coulson said, "let's grab lunch."
"Thank you, sir."
"Drop the 'sir.' We're friends here. Call me Phil. Like Hill does."
Even though Coulson and Hill weren't exactly on good terms anymore, he knew there were still feelings between them.
Finn smirked. "Yes, Phil."
Word of the new young agent spread through S.H.I.E.L.D. in minutes.
It didn't take long for his file to land on the desk of Alexander Pierce—the real emperor of S.H.I.E.L.D., HYDRA's hidden leader, and now a Security Council minister.
"Recommended by a Level 9 agent and personally received by Nick Fury. This young man is truly extraordinary," Pierce muttered as he skimmed the file.
Though HYDRA had turned S.H.I.E.L.D. into a sieve, there were still a handful of loyal Fury agents who hadn't bent the knee—Black Widow, Hawkeye, Coulson, Hill. Dead weight, in Pierce's eyes.
But one detail stood out from Finn's file.
"Doctor, this young man seems to be obsessed with money."
"Then send Rumlow," Pierce ordered. "Buy him with a fat paycheck."
HYDRA's coffers, carefully expanded under financial mastermind Dr. Zola, were endless. Money was the least of their problems.
And if money solved it, it wasn't really a problem at all.
"Consider it done."
The operation to sway Finnian Murdock had begun.
Meanwhile, Coulson was driving toward Stark Industries with Finn riding shotgun.
"Murdock, no point beating around the bush—we're family now. Does Stark's return have anything to do with you?"
"No," Finn said with a perfectly straight face. Then he added, "Why would you ask that?"
Coulson hesitated. "The Director suspects it was you who rescued Stark."
Finn let out a slow sigh. "Well… yeah. That was me."
The car screeched as Coulson braked hard, staring at him in shock.
What? Just like that? He admits it?
"I wanted to live quietly as an ordinary man," Finn said dramatically. "But after joining S.H.I.E.L.D., I found my true purpose."
He turned to Coulson, eyes sharp. "Phil, I want to bring my talents to S.H.I.E.L.D. To become a superhero. A hero who grabs America's financial resources by the balls."
Even if Hill would be embarrassed by how casually he admitted it, Finn didn't care. Just two days ago he was still planning to become president—this was all part of the bigger picture.
Coulson blinked. "…So, uh, do we just… go back now? The only reason we were going to Stark Industries was to figure out how he came back."
"Yeah," Finn said casually, already texting Hill to fill her in. "By the way, Phil, when you file the report, make sure Hill's name is in there with me."
Coulson nodded knowingly, smirking.
"Don't worry. I'll write it down: Agent Finnian Murdock, under Agent Hill's influence, admitted to bringing Stark back. Though… just one thing." He frowned. "How the hell did you do it? There's no entry record."
Finn grinned. "You'll find out soon enough."