Crossbones was no slouch—handy with his head and his fists alike. Loki not running into Hawkeye, and instead grabbing Crossbones to brainwash along the way, was understandable enough. But what use was snatching Pierce? He was just an old politician; brainwashing Pierce with Loki's Scepter was a worse bet than brainwashing Obama.
Daisy's head was mush; she couldn't work out why Loki—supposedly a clever one—would make a move like this. A minute later she got her answer: Loki wanted to sow chaos.
He'd seen her own trick of hijacking a TV station to air adult films and cartoons, and even with his mind somewhat warped, Loki was still the type to hurt others at no benefit to himself.
He'd looped through Canada, slipped quietly back to New York, and, familiar with the routine, seized the Daily Bugle television station. Crossbones was a nobody—hardly a soul knew his face. But Pierce was another matter: his public identity had always been that of a diplomat, and he knew the leaders of many national governments and the executives of major corporations.
With a sinister air, Loki motioned Pierce to step in front of the camera, and then Pierce—as though he'd taken leave of his senses—recounted every political deal he'd struck with various world leaders, one after another. The content was chilling, the backroom filth downright appalling.
Watching Pierce spill secret after secret on screen, Daisy was floored, terrified he'd blurt out something like "Hail Hydra." She couldn't help wondering: was there still time to teleport over there and silence him for good?
"That demon—he's slandering them, destroying Director Pierce and Crossbones's reputations!" Hill clenched her fists, seething with indignation.
"Huh?" Daisy was still stuck on the Hydra angle and couldn't switch tracks fast enough; she didn't even notice the half-bitten slice of pizza slip from her hand. It took her mind a couple of loops to catch Hill's meaning.
Hill flatly refused to believe Pierce had done any of those things. In her mind, Pierce was an old man ready to give of himself and to shoulder responsibility.
She figured Loki's Scepter had twisted their values, warping the personal codes of conduct she'd always credited to Pierce and Crossbones.
To make an old man who'd given half his life to S.H.I.E.L.D., and a fearless warrior, suffer this kind of damage to their good name—Loki's conduct was despicable to the last degree.
"Ah… yes, it really is contemptible! What a monster he is! From now on we'll have to treat Pierce and Crossbones as gently as a spring breeze." Daisy cupped her chin, feeling a dull ache in her teeth; the pizza that had tasted so good a moment ago now seemed utterly flavorless.
Hill's political instincts were just too dull. At worst, Crossbones faced a charge of attacking a TV station—even if caught, he could post a little bail and walk. The real problem was Pierce spilling his guts on air.
Soon a call request came in from Nick Fury.
"This is serious—leaders of a lot of countries have voiced their displeasure…" Fury looked grim.
"Relax—nobody's going to believe it." It was all Daisy could offer by way of comfort. Even she didn't buy her own line.
Nick Fury also relayed the world leaders' position: in principle they accepted that Pierce had been mind-controlled and was talking out of turn, but they demanded S.H.I.E.L.D. stabilize the situation and offer an explanation as fast as possible.
"The explanation can wait. There's some disorder inside S.H.I.E.L.D., and you've got a better image than I do. Get on a live broadcast now and settle every agent's nerves—I've still got to wrangle with that lot!" Nick Fury was locked in a grinding match with the Council, waiting for them to approve the Avengers Initiative, so the job of calming everyone down fell to Daisy alone.
S.H.I.E.L.D. wasn't merely in disorder now—it was in serious disorder. Hydra's people had no idea what Pierce meant by saying all that on TV; their first instinct was to go to war with S.H.I.E.L.D., and many were quietly readying weapons, just waiting on the word from above.
Sitwell and Ward reported the situation to her in veiled terms, seeking the opinion of the Hydra boss they were about to answer to.
Both S.H.I.E.L.D. and Hydra were her power base; she couldn't afford to lose either one.
Deputy Director Daisy couldn't spare a thought for Thor or Black Bolt now. She pulled Hill clear of the Tesseract's field of influence, then teleported to the Helicarrier, where there was both a shower and the broadcast equipment that reached every agent.
She looked like a mud-caked monkey at the moment; if every agent saw her in this state, she'd never live it down.
Besides, reassuring people took the right image. If even a Deputy Director turned up looking like a refugee, what would the rank and file think? One glance and they'd panic.
She stripped in a flash and dove into the shower; Hill came in too, helping her wash, and then it was makeup and a change of clothes—the two of them putting her back together at top speed.
Changed into a tailored business suit, Daisy used her level-ten clearance to cut into every S.H.I.E.L.D. comm channel and appeared before the camera like a press spokesperson.
"Colleagues, I know you're confused right now—bewildered, even angry. You don't know what's happened to Director Pierce and Captain Rumlow, or what the footage looping on the news channels is supposed to mean. Let me tell you!"
Her voice was unhurried, her pace even, nothing amiss about it at all.
Every agent watching the address grew calmer.
The S.H.I.E.L.D. people were utterly baffled—the likes of FitzSimmons, Mockingbird, and Coulson had no clue what was going on—so now that the Deputy Director had appeared, naturally they listened closely to what she had to say.
The Hydra agents' expressions were more telling. Earlier they'd thought they might have to move ahead of schedule; only several of their key leaders were absent. Sitwell clearly wasn't cut out for big moves, and Ward was waiting on Daisy's command.
Below Pierce, Crossbones, and Daisy, the two highest-ranking Hydra members had both chosen to hold their positions, which was the only reason nothing serious had blown up.
At that moment the two of them were in the S.H.I.E.L.D. war room, watching Deputy Director Daisy's address. They traded looks and understood each other perfectly: rein in your people—now isn't the time to act.
Word spread quickly through the ranks, and the restless Hydra agents—some already reaching for their guns—settled down one after another. They weren't fools; hardly anyone who becomes a field agent or a spy is. Blowing Hydra's cover now was flat-out suicidal—it would achieve nothing beyond a little chaos.
Obedience ran high within Hydra, so when Daisy, their boss-in-waiting, stepped forward and told everyone to remain undercover, the anxious agents were soothed all at once.
Pistols went back into waistbands, and grenades already pulled from bags were tucked away again. Hydra's people were the first to regain their composure… and those who calmed first, in turn, steadied the genuine S.H.I.E.L.D. agents around them, bringing them back to their senses as well.
A few fanatical Hydra agents were subdued by their respective superiors, written off with a diagnosis of mental breakdown, and left at that. Half of S.H.I.E.L.D. was Hydra; papering over something like this really wasn't hard.
The commanders of the various bases received word from their people, compiled it, and reported back to HQ in turn—the gist being that the mood was under control, so HQ could rest easy.
Deputy Director Daisy's address had barely begun, and the situation was already steadied.