"PERCY," ANNABETH WARNED.

          He ignored her, which Coulson figured was probably not the best idea. "You don't get to take us in."

          Coulson laced his fingers together and tried his best to appear calm, cool and collected. "Unfortunately, that isn't for you to decide. According to our findings, Annabeth could be a threat to national security."

"You're out of your mind," Annabeth accused, and, remembering past occurrences, Coulson couldn't really argue.

"Maybe, maybe not," he said nonchalantly, "but better safe than sorry, right?"

Percy's hand slipped into his pocket. He sort of looked like he was waging an internal battle.

Suddenly something large and shiny flew past the side of his head, slamming into the alley wall. Coulson couldn't help it: he turned for half a second to see what it was, which was probably what Annabeth had been going for. He turned around just in time to see her dragging Percy out of the alley.

He sighed and watched them go. Now the team would have to chase them. Not exactly the outcome he'd been hoping for, but it wasn't like it hadn't happened before. He pressed a finger to his earpiece. "Simmons?"

"Got them, sir," Simmons' voice came from the receiver, her accent apparent. "They're heading down the block. Should I dispatch the team?"

"Wait for me back on the Bus. Tell Skye and Mack to gear up," the Director instructed. "I've got a feeling they're the best to handle the situation right now."

"Daisy," Simmons corrected automatically.

"Damn it. Daisy. Okay, try for a calmer approach first. I.C.E.R.s only."

"Aye-aye, Captain." Daisy's voice this time. "We're ready when you are."

"Good," Coulson said. He took out his own I.C.E.R., then turned around to find out what had been thrown at the wall. Maybe Fitz could analyze it. He wasn't sure what he was expecting, but this wasn't it. He pulled it out.

It was a dagger, and an ancient-looking one at that. The blade was bronze and double-edged, just like Percy's sword, and was about as long as Coulson's forearm. The handle. . .wasn't a handle. It was more of a hilt, complete with a crossguard, leather wrapped around the grip. The pommel was small, barely even there, and in the center of the hilt was a symbol he recognized as a Greek omega.

Coulson placed it gingerly inside his briefcase and headed for the Bus.

★

The plane was sitting camouflaged in a deserted park. Coulson was just about to doubt his sense of direction when a hole opened up in the air, and the sound of whirring machinery reached him. The door unfolded into a ramp, revealing agents Mack, Daisy, Simmons, and Fitz waiting for him. The first two were in gear.

"Ready to go," Daisy quipped, leaning against the opening.

"I'm not," Coulson announced. He presented the briefcase to the scientists. "FitzSimmons, I want you to find out everything you can on this."

Fitz stepped forward to receive it. He undid the latches and opened the case to reveal the dagger, kept safe by the flex foam.

"Woah," Mack said in surprise. "Where did that come from?"

"The subject had it on her, apparently. She threw it at the brick wall as a distraction. It sunk up to the hilt in the mortar."

"Seriously?" Mack sounded impressed. "Girl's got an arm. And an eye."

"Sir, this design. . ." Fitz thought for a moment. "This has to be ancient. Or maybe Asgardian."

"That's what I'd like you to find out," Coulson requested. "And Simmons, maybe you can see if there's any usable DNA on it, where it was made."

"On it," she said, and thus FitzSimmons left for the lab.

"We'll be going in just a moment," Coulson told the remaining two agents. "This suit is making me sweat like crazy."

          Five minutes later, the three agents were piled inside a totally inconspicuous black van, driving through San Francisco towards the water. Mack sat shotgun, and Skye was in the back, watching her laptop screen intently, typing like a madman. "They're  moving towards the mainland, almost to the Bay Bridge," she announced, having pinged the girl's cell phone. "May, do you have a visual?"

          "Silver Audi R8, plate number SPQR-3357." May's voice crackled over the intercom.

          "What's an Audi R8 look like?" Mack asked to no one in particular.

          "Doesn't matter," Coulson assured him. "We've got plate number, color. What street?" He checked the rear-view mirror, noting the not-so-busy road behind him, and caught Skye's gaze.

          "Uh, Harrison Street. Looks like they're gonna take the road to the bridge from there."

          "Hey, right here," Coulson said, pleasantly surprised, and took the turn. "Looks like things are going our way for now."

          "Daisy, is that them?"

         Damn it. Daisy. Not Skye. Daisy.

          Mack was pointing at a silver car up ahead, too obscured from view to know the make or the plate number, but Daisy took one look at her screen and said, "Yep, that's it."

          Coulson changed lanes once, then again, and there was just one truck between them and the car that was supposedly—no, definitely carrying the two teenagers.

"If you don't mind me asking, A.C.," Daisy started, using one of her old nicknames for the Director, "what makes you so sure these kids aren't human?"

"Well, for one," Coulson said, not taking his eyes off of the car, "they knew the term Asgardian, and two, usually, when you ask someone if they're human, the response is 'what the hell else would I be' and not 'yes, definitely, one hundred percent'."

Mack glanced at him. "So what you're saying is, even if they are human, they know something."

"The exit onto the bridge is coming up on the right," Coulson said in answer. "Daisy?"

"Not slowing down," she told them, sounding confused.

"No turn signal, either," Mack observed.

May spoke to them over the comms again. "They're headed for the bay. Do they know you're following?"

"Hopefully not," Coulson stated. "I mean, this weird guy in a suit confronts them about an interrogation, and there's a giant, hard-to-miss black van on the road as they escape, so you tell me."

Sure enough, the car passed right by the exit.

"Ohhh-kay, if they're not leaving the island, where are they even going?" Daisy said, mostly talking to herself.

"May?"

"Sir?" the pilot answered.

"Bring the Bus down, somewhere near the mouth of the bay," Coulson instructed. "Keep up the camo, I want eyes from the front. Don't shut off the engine."

"Way ahead of you, sir," came the response.

"Hey, Coulson, just in case," Daisy spoke up from the backseat, "you might want to take a left. Don't want them to know we're here if they don't already."

Coulson obediently brought the van around the corner, driving parallel to Harrison Street. He could see the water just a few blocks up ahead, churning and roiling—

          "Left!" Daisy practically yelled.

          Coulson jerked in surprise, making a hard left turn where she told him to.

          "The GPS jumped," she explained, slightly embarrassed. "They're going down Columbus Avenue. It's, like, the only diagonal street in this sector. It lets out. . ." she tapped a few keys. "About a block away from Victorian Park. May?"

          "Touching down now," the ever-listening Agent May told them. "It's practically deserted here. The beach, too. Looks like a storm is coming."

          Coulson snuck a peek at the sky, which had darkened considerably. When did that happen? He hadn't even noticed. "Good. Less spectators makes our job easier."

"She's making a call," Daisy told the group.

"Who's she talking to?" Mack asked.

"Dunno, I didn't bug it, but it looks like the other guy is. . ." she tapped on her screen, then scrunched up her nose. "In the Caldecott Tunnel?"

          Coulson sighed inwardly. "Let's hope whoever it is can't get here before we do." He barreled down Columbus as fast as he could without attracting too much attention, and soon enough the silver vehicle was in sight again.

"They're turning on Beach Street," Daisy said, vaguely reminding Coulson of a sports announcer. "What the hell? Are they going for a swim?"

"If they are, we are too," Mack said jokingly. "Did you remember your suit?"

"Nah," Daisy grunted, typing again. "Left it on the Bus, along with my hopes and dreams of being normal." She swayed a little as Coulson ran over a pothole despite how hard he'd tried to avoid it.

"They're here," May said from the comms. "Just parked. . .It looks like it's going to rain. Any ideas as to why they're at the beach?"

"Nope," Coulson replied truthfully. He pulled off of Columbus onto Beach Street. "Guess it's time to find out."

★

i spent about an hour on google earth trying to make this chapter geographically correct so y'all better appreciate it!
just wondering, what state/country are you guys from? i'm from new york.
this chapter is dedicated to spathidromeas12 because she's amazing, thanks spathi, you're the bomb.com.
please vote, comment, share, tag, etc. i don't have to tell you how cool it is because we all literally do the same things on this website anyways.
thanks for reading,
cajoling