Time skip to six months before Tony Stark is kidnapped in Afghanistan.

Shield’s New York City office

“The director will see you now Coulson.” The secretary tells him.

Coulson walks right in and waits to be acknowledged by Fury. “What is it that you couldn’t tell me over the phone Coulson? Something like this isn’t like you.” Fury gets straight to the point as he enables the security features for his office.

“High level boss, related to that personal project that you have been kicking around for over a decade. I found someone that could fit the bill pretty easily and not just in one category. I just actually have to get in contact with them. The person is a vigilante. They first came on my radar over a month ago when I was on a personal errand, but I needed to dig deeper to find out if this was just a one off or not, along with character traits. I used some of our rookie agents to do some digging without telling them the whole story. What was then found includes rough news reports, eyewitness testimony, and the occasional internet article that have this person going around for at least six months, but it has possibly been much longer, over two years possibly.” Coulson says, knowing that mentioning that old project just by itself will have Fury very interested as very few eligible candidates have come up over the years. That is compounded by how much interest Coulson has for him to be sitting on this for over a month as more data is gathered.

“How many categories are we talking about Coulson? Anything close to Danvers?” Fury asks, his interest more than peaked.

“Far below her sir, but still outstanding none the less. Enhanced physical abilities all across the board, possibly even up to the level that Captain America was said to be at, if not more. Martial arts knowledge is such that few people, if anyone, could hope to take this person down. I personally witnessed them take down more than ten heavily armed criminals in just three minutes with just fists and feet. Cops in the areas this person has been known to frequent have actually been keeping knowledge of this person from getting too well known, an unintended bonus when you save more than a few cops' lives.” Coulson says with admiration.

“So, you need more resources in which to be able to track them down, but since this isn’t a world ending threat or disaster, permission needs to come from on high. I’ll do more than give the okay for more resources being used, I’ll give you one of our best. When Romanov gets back from her latest mission in two days, get her to help as far as getting an actual conversation from this person. I want a result for this in three weeks. Send me a report of what you currently have, be as specific as possible.” Fury replies as he turns away, thinking that is the end of this conversation.

“Before I leave, we already have a name for them via some of the witnesses. They prefer to be called Ranger. I really hope we can recruit this person boss. They sound like a real hero.” Coulson says as he leaves Fury’s office to leave him to think about this development.

Two days later, underground hanger

A very beautiful red-headed woman is seen walking down the ramp of a small transport aircraft, not a care in the world, her body almost sinfully sculpted in her mission attire. She nods at Coulson, leaning against the door into the rest of the facility and is about to pass by him when he reaches out with a file in hand for her. “Really Coulson, I’m not back for even twenty minutes and I’m having to go back out again. What’s the new mission this time, arms dealer, political assassination, or is it more dubious?” she asks with a manicured eyebrow raised high.

“Not Fury’s mission, but he did say I could have you work on this assignment with me, especially after I piqued his interest like I did.” Coulson says with a smile.

Natasha’s other eyebrow rises to join the first as with her being a level seven agent of Shield, this has to be really important for Fury to give the okay to put her under Coulson’s command, even for a single mission. She doesn’t break the tape holding the file closed yet, as she has to wait until she is in a secure area before she starts reading, as per protocol for this type of mission.

Coulson follows her to the nearest such area, where her eyebrows continue to try and do their disappearing act. At the end of reading the file, her eyebrows return to normal, but she definitely wants to spar with this person, as they can hopefully be another person besides Barton to make her work for her victories if not narrowly win themselves as in the last two years, she is up only by three wins over Clint.

2-weeks later

‘I have gained so much in my skills and abilities the more I do to help people, but there still has to be more that I can do. So many forms and techniques have been unlocked/used, that now many of them fall into distinct fighting styles. This doesn’t include the extra abilities that became available once this device appeared on my wrist.’ Here he looks to his left wrist, and with a twist, the device appears in one of the many forms he has unlocked, this one in the form of a blue triceratops head being viewed from the left. He just has to think the words while twisting his wrist and the ability becomes active. The ability for the triceratops head is that of extreme defense. It’s initially activated when one of the criminals he encountered brought out a gatling guns of all things. His skin and even his cloak became temporarily indestructible, allowing him to ignore the high damage rounds being fired at him. The activation phrase is Dino Thunder Blue Innate. Other abilities with their own activation phrases included being able to phase through walls, generating a sonic scream from my mouth, creating a circular energy shield six feet in diameter, and even total invisibility to name some of them. The abilities do come with downsides. The big one is the energy requirement for the abilities. Before I first unlocked any abilities, I would have to stay up multiple days or be involved in a big fight just for the level on my ‘energy gauge’ to barely move. Though the amount of energy used for the abilities has either lessened or maybe my maximum amount of energy has increased, I used to only be able to use the abilities for three hours in total before the energy gauge would read empty when it was at full, and the ability I was using would cut off, possibly to prevent the abilities from drawing on other sources that would be detrimental to my health. Now that limit has increased by another two hours. I still often see the shadow of human formed silhouettes, but lately in the last few months, I have also been seeing silhouettes of huge creatures like wolves, bears, even dinosaurs. There is a strange thing about this device, pictures can be taken of the device, but when anyone other than me tries to touch it, it is like nothing is there despite seeing it with your own eyes.

Going back on more to do, higher limits to reach has me thinking about what happened last month. ‘That logo on that guy from last month, not to mention the clothes he wore were kind of odd for ten pm in that area.’ I say to myself. As I look online, only one insignia is anywhere near a match, S.H.I.E.L.D, with the eagle in flight. They are touted as a peacekeeping organization among other objectives from the little I can find. While that is good, that is only on the surface and right now I have no idea if you peel back the layers and you would still see that purpose, or a darker one. While good news on if I wanted to join, applicants don’t need a military service record or a college degree to apply, though like any other place that would help a lot to bypass required extra training. The kicker is that training for the basics alone is at least six months depending on aptitude placement, meaning no patrolling to help people as I would probably be under a microscope as they dug into my past. Another issue is that while I could hold back on my skills as to not be an anomaly, one of the things my abilities haven’t given me is the acting clout to hide my fighting knowledge from experienced eyes if I am to dumb down my skills.

There have been a few pictures of me in costume appearing online, small bits of local news and whatnot, many accompanied by comments expressing thanks to the one known as ‘Ranger’, more so now than in the beginning as I have been doing this for over two years now. I rarely speak even to those I save, unless I need confirmation from them that they are ok. I still use the rooftops to get about, but I have recently moved to an area with good subway access, so every couple of days I take the subway out ten miles or so, then just work my way back to my apartment, randomizing which stop I get off at. My first time riding the subway I had to act out of costume, as a small gang thought that it would be a good idea to rob people in the last few cars. It only took taking care of the biggest threat, the one with the gun, to get the others to fold like cards. I didn’t use anywhere near my full strength, as I didn’t want to have to explain to the cops how I had enough strength to rip his arm off. Instead, I just twisted his arm enough to where if he pulled the trigger, he would instead blow his own brains out from the bottom of his skull. I did this by bearhugging him and forcing his arm into position. The other passengers were on the ball and two stops later the cops arrived to apprehend the group. I had to give a statement, but unlike other times I didn’t have to make up a lie to cover my use of extreme strength. I was given many thanks by the other folks in those cars after the police had finished with us, which while nice is not why I do what I do.

I wake up at nine am, eat a five-egg omelet with four pieces of toast and half a pound of bacon to top off my energy tank. Then I go wandering about the streets for several hours. When I get back, my jaw is suddenly having a bit of trouble being pulled off the floor. The reason is thus, a red-headed woman, not more than five foot six inches tall, and a very gifted figure is bending over in front of me as she tightens the laces on a sneaker just outside the apartment complexes front door. I am getting such a view that I can see the dark blue bra under her shirt, and how even that is almost loose enough for me to see, well everything her chest has to offer. She stands up and gives me such a look that makes it feel like words are being conveyed, but as I don’t speak woman with excellence, I can’t say exactly what those words are, but I have a rough idea. It is along the lines of ‘look all you want, but that is all you are getting’. I then scamper off like a kicked puppy with my tail between my legs.

That night, after getting off at a random stop, I found an alley with no visible cameras and got to climbing. I’m not even two blocks in and for the first time I see someone else running along the rooftops. This piques my interest enough where I deem to follow them. As I get closer, details of this person come in view, and I miss a few steps as a result of my jaw trying to tangle with my feet. I caught back up enough and managed to keep my jaw under control a few minutes later. Clad in black leather almost from head to toe, She has to be the most beautiful woman that I have ever seen, even eclipsing the red head from this morning, though not by much. Boots with white flashing around the ankle, and with a significant heel, turn her legs and her ass into a view that I could happily watch for the rest of my days. She has mid-back length solid white hair. She hasn’t detected me to my knowledge, even with my slip up that nearly had me face-planting three stories down. She stops almost a mile later at what I know from experience is not an apartment complex. She stopped on a roof with a skylight. She is doing something to one of the windows as I hang back behind cover to lessen the chances of her seeing me, if she weren’t singularly focused on her task that is. She sets something aside, most likely the glass she cut out, then almost glides through the opening. While I still have some of my attention on the area around here, the rest of my attention is focused on the skylight and whether she will come out the same way she went in. The answer to that is a big Yes. She comes almost rocketing out the hole she made, and as I get a look at her from the front, the primal part of my brain tries to join my jaw, that is once again on the ground metaphorically. The zipper she has is only pulled up to mid-chest, which is either by choice or by nature as I witness an incredible pair of pale breasts, that are a few wrong moves from popping loose and greeting the world in their entirety. I can barely see her face, covered as it is by a very subtle mask, but it is what she has in hand that clues me to her motives. A silverish white necklace, studded with gems that shine so much even in the limited light. I move to intercept her by trying to predict her chosen path. I succeed in surprising her as I step out from behind a roof-access door. She has fantastic reactions as she bleeds off her momentum in just another twenty feet, leaving maybe fifteen feet between us.

“A little late to be visiting such a place, and I doubt that necklace was a souvenir.” I say sarcastically, as my arms are crossed in front of me.

“I wanted the necklace, so I took it. Not my fault the security is crappy.” She replies back, equally sarcastic, but there is a smokey undertone to her voice, as her voice, like her body, has no need to try the game of seduction, for they are naturals at it.

As we started talking, the necklace was deposited into a pouch at her side. She swaggers a few feet closer, exaggerating the movements of her incredible body even more.

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“As we both know that necklace isn’t yours, so hand it over for me to return, and I won’t bother leaving you stuck for the cops to pick up.” I said with no give in my voice, with no relaxation of my body, as I don’t know what she will try.

She huffs at me as if she is laughing. “In your dreams.” She brings her left hand forward, claws somehow appearing from her glove's fingertips, but I’m ready as I knock that blow away with my right arm, while my left leg tries to take out her footing, to no avail as she jumps back several yards. Fists, feet, knees and elbows start to fly with such skill, that if anyone were to see us, they would think that we have choreographed this long sequence of moves. This is the first time that anyone I have encountered has matched me with such skill. This is incredible, as a third technique goes from mind to muscle memory in under a minute. I have kept my strength down to weaker levels so as not to seriously hurt her, but the light hits I have gotten in, don’t seem to have affected her all that much, meaning I have to kick this up a notch. I have to stop this introspective as I jump, her right knee almost feathering a touch to my nuts as I do. I landed and then feinted a blow to her face; she went to block, and this gave me the opportunity to bring my left wrist to my mouth as I tried to finish this. ‘Dino Thunder Yellow Innate’, is extremely faintly whispered. I thrust my head forward like I am going to headbutt her, and she takes a step back, even as my left arm crashes into her hastily raised right arm. Instead of the headbutt, I open my mouth behind the mask, and just scream. Almost translucent yellow circles of sound blast from my mouth in cone shape. The ‘Terra Scream’, especially at such close range is debilitating in its effectiveness, but with my opponent it is more effective than it should be. Her hands briefly clasp her ears as if to block the sound, but to no avail. Her mind seems to shut off as she falls to the ground like a marionette with her strings cut, unable to take the disorientation that the scream has inflicted upon her.

I retrieve the necklace from the pouch around her waist, and debate about what to do with her. I could try contacting the police to hand her in. I could zip tie her to the railing until she comes to, essentially letting her go as with her strength and claws, she shouldn’t have any trouble getting free. I could even try to flag down a police car if I don’t want my phone being tracked. The sentience from the powers is not pinging on any of the decision choices, and admittedly I would hate to see such a beauty locked up. I make up my mind, I’m going to leave her be as is, with a calling card to taunt her in case we meet again, and I hope that we will. As for the necklace, I know that I am going to return it to the museum, but how. I go over to the museum rooftop and peer through the opening to see if I can spot any of the security measures. I see a better idea, a guard walking into view. I lightly toss the necklace down through the opening, which startles the guard into tripping the alarm as he steps too close to an exhibit.

I then take off across the rooftops, looking for more trouble when I find it and end up seeing red. I just watched a child drop after a bullet scrambled their brain. There are at least ten gang members from what I can see. I also see a woman crying in agony as the child moves no more. There are two other children nearby, also not moving as a man and another woman cry over them. I don’t need to hear any words; those gang members are dead meat. I launch myself over the end of the roof and plumet. I snap two necks as I land, two backhanded blows pulverizing jaws as the heads are almost ripped off from the force generated. The executioner in slow motion turns to me, but with just my natural speed, he’s done for already. By the time he can bring the gun up, his hand is already losing grip due to me having plunged my arm through the guy’s chest and out the back. The rest of the gang members are equally slow to react, and then with a whispered phrase “Dino Thunder Black Innate”, I vanish from view. Two seconds later one is hit hard enough to powder his pelvis, his screams of agony continuing to demoralize the rest as he slowly dies as he bleeds out. One tries to run, only for my kick to throw him onto a fence, where his neck gets caught on the sharp point and blood just erupts as the flesh tears. The rest try to scatter to other exits, but there will be no escape from what they have chosen to commit. I kick their knees out and then stomp their skulls one by one. I can’t dare to face the people who have lost someone so precious to them right now. I run and keep running till I reach the nearest river. I jump in, hold my breath, and swim till my lungs scream. When I surface, I try to get my rough location of where I am. I must have swum over a mile underwater once I determined the street closest to me. The cold of the river has more than chilled my rage as I climb out, soaked to the bone. My thoughts are still going as those are the first people I have purposely killed. Other have died due to friendly fire or when a flammable chemical lights them up like a roman candle, but not like this. It is a slog to get myself to the nearest roof and on my way home, feeling like shit. I ditch the cloak, backpack and mask in the nearest water-tower, figuring that I’ll get new stuff later, though this is far from the first time I have had to replace my gear. I check my ‘energy gauge’ just as I fall onto the bed. Based on prior experience, I should be down an eighth, but to my surprise, I’m at less than an eighth, and it has to be either the callous use as I murdered twelve gang members, and/or the long swim that almost emptied my tank. This just means that the next day is going to be relegated to restocking the tank, and research on what more I can do to get better control over my emotions, as I can’t allow them to lead me like they did today.

When I awaken in the morning, my stomach sounds off like a garbage disposal with a fork stuck in it. I eat some eggs and toast to appease the beast for now, but a prolonged lunch to dinner spree is going to be expensive, as I need to refill my energy gauge. For now, I light some incense and try to get into a meditative trance. I have had off and on luck with this as it doesn’t always succeed, but when it does, I feel more relieved as if I’m communicating on a completely different level with the semi-sentient source of my powers. I get the sense of being patted on the shoulder, that the anger while tinged with more than a bit of fury, is forgiven in the situational context of what happened. I also get the sense that I will get better by a big margin, but the right push or situation is needed for that to happen.

After I came out of the trance, several hours have passed according to my clock. It is time to get moving as I have several buffets in mind to hit in order to get enough energy to refill my tank. It takes three buffets across six hours before the tank is close to being full again. Over twenty-five thousand calories consumed and not ten minutes after walking out of each buffet, there is not even a minor stomachache to be found. I glance at the tank just as a belch strong enough to rattle more than few people makes itself known. I even got a freaking ovation from one guy as the belch lasted at least fifteen seconds.

On my way home, I hit up a fabric store getting much more than I needed to make another cloak, enough to make four so I can have spares. A new mask and many more zip ties finish up my purchases for now.

On this evening’s patrol I come across what seems to be a typical mugging. That turns anything but typical as when I drop down, both the ‘mugger’ and the ‘victim’ turn to attack me. The fake mugger is easily dealt with as a light punch to the temple leaves them dazed on the ground. The ‘victim’ is another story entirely. She is the gorgeous red head I encountered yesterday afternoon, what the hell?? Similar to the leather clad burglar from last night, I get more flashes of forms in just a few minutes. Both better and worse thing is, they keep coming. I have to tune my focus more on her after the fifteenth one in two minutes flashes through my mind. This woman has like ten different styles that she is changing between with some delay. A new player enters the fray as out of the corner of my eye, I see them, but they are just standing there. The odd behavior almost costs me, as a toned leg whistles just where my head was a moment ago. The new person is, I think, the same one that I saw maybe six weeks ago, but I can’t be too sure as I focus on my main opponent to not get my bell rung. I then cheat, as I up my strength level slowly until she winces from a hit. Then I instantly increase my speed to max to overwhelm her. Just before I can finish this, left arm swinging through the air with enough force to break her arm and some ribs even if she were to block the guy yells out “Enough. We have some questions for you Ranger.”

His words not only have me freeze in my tracks, mid-swing, but have my opponent leap back far out of easy striking distance, but she is still ready if I try to have things resume. I turn to the man, more than a bit confused. “I stumbled upon a gun buy of heavy weaponry during an investigation of mine. I honestly thought I was dead and that reinforcements wouldn’t be able to get there in time. I was one man with a gun, and all twenty of the guys had weapons bigger than my sidearm on their person, not to mention the gatling guns shown in the just opened crates. I thought I was following only one guy, and in just a few seconds, it turned into a thigh deep field of cow crap. Then who comes to my rescue, not the backup that was ten minutes out at the earliest, but a guy who comes in through the skylight, taking one of the guys to ground with a crack. That is when things kicked off with flash of gunfire. The groups turned on each other, with four dead in thirty seconds as they scrambled to cover. Even from cover, I saw you take many of them down with swift, precise moves. I still thought you would die when one of the last few catches you out in the open, when they pop out from behind a crate, gatling gun spinning up. Then I saw you tank rounds of such numerical and forceful numbers, that whole squads of the best agents I know would have been wiped out, yet with a blue scaly glow, you shrug them off as if they were spit wads. After that you knock out the rest of them with equal ease and flee just as I hear sirens in the distance. I then, with help, investigated reported sightings, all to try to find you. You have saved so many people. I wanted to find you so that maybe, just maybe, aid could be rendered to you, allowing you to save so many more. I am agent Coulson of Shield and I want your help.” Coulson finished the tale as he waits for me to respond

I am deathly still with shock. Here is a possible answer to my want to do more. Yet I am wary of the potential stick to this carrot being offered.

“You help or outright save what, two or three people most nights, rarely more than ten. Come work with us in Shield and you can potentially save thousands a year, not just here in New York, but in other places that are in equally desperate need of a hero.” The red head I was fighting speaks up, her voice of a similar tenor to the thief that I encountered just last night.

I speak up, hesitance coloring my voice as images from last night bloom at the forefront of my mind. “I have killed people instead of making sure they get to the proper authorities. Not indirectly as was the case when we met Coulson, but recently, last night recently in fact. Gang members had just finished executing a child, the third of three in front of parents no less, and at that moment, I became their executioner. Though I feel bad about outright slaughtering them, if a similar scenario is presented to me in the future, then I believe the end result will be the same.”

Coulson’s eyes go a bit wide at the hurt felt in my voice, while the red head brushes a bit of moisture from her eye. “Regardless of that, and while we can’t guarantee that you won’t be put in such a position in the future, part of our mission that goes along with saving lives, is to take down those who would see the world conquered or burned to ash, otherwise hurt people for the wrong reasons. So, with that said, will you help us Merrick Oliver?” Coulson says in a calm tone, though hearing my real name come from his lips is like a gut punch that takes me off my feet. Coulson continues as he explains how he knows my real name. “It took a lot of effort to find you, heh, I know high level persons of interest that could learn a thing or two from you, though you being able to leap the gaps between buildings, many more than twenty feet, probably has a good bit to do with it. The random areas of where you operate also had a fair bit to do with how long it took us to find you. But when you can place cameras where people don’t expect them to be, then it becomes so much easier. The key mistake you made though, was your use of the subway, even if it wasn’t every day. So many people have patterns, and rarely deviate from them, getting off and on at the same places. So when you always ride the subway out from a certain area, but never back in, and differentiating where you would leave the train, it allows us to triangulate a location for where you possibly live, based on where you departed from. If you were wondering how we knew to start tracking you in the first place, it takes a lot more strength than you would think to wrench a guy’s arm the way you did, even more to crush fingers in your grip against the gun he is holding. Add in your height of just over six-foot and not many people fit the bill. From there it was just matter of time, though setting up this initial talk need time as we didn’t just want to confront you at your apartment.”

As Coulson lays out how they found me, I’m mentally slamming my head against a wall, repeatedly. While there is now an unofficial stick to the carrot, my mind is still processing as I didn’t think I would be found out, especially since I have been doing this over two years now and I never really got complacent in my actions, hence the randomization of my patrols. The caveat is the carrot Coulson is offering, it sounds like resources including intelligence and further training to bring my skills to a higher level will be a part of what he is offering. While this isn’t a decision that should be made lightly, specifics are going to need to be clarified on a multitude of topics. So with that, and knowing that should I have to, I should be able to fight my way out if they attempt to force me to stay, I give my answer. “While I am not sure on accepting your aide, I am willing to go with you so that specifics of what your help will entail can be discussed and I can then make a more informed decision.” I say with my voice a bit resigned.

“Excellent. We have transport inbound if you will meet us on the roof to depart.” Coulson says with a smile on his face, even as he sends a message to Fury that simply reads: ‘Initial objective complete.’ Of course, being spies, this message is coded as such that very few people can crack it.

I show off a bit and give a firsthand account of how I was sandbagging. With a jump to the edge of a dumpster, I push off hard, denting the metal and sail up almost fifteen feet and across to the other side of the alleyway, where with another push, this one light enough to not destroy the brick, I cross the alleyway again to grasp the edge of the fire escape ladder that is even with the roof. A few minutes later a futuristic plane touches down with less noise than a regular helicopter. Coulson and the red head whose name I still don’t know, sit along either side of me as other agents fill up the rest of the transport. When the doors close to the hatch, ninety-five percent of the outside sound is cut off.