"What the hell is this?" Steve said, tossing a file onto Nick Fury's desk.

"I don't know," Fury said, grabbing it and flipping it open. The large window of the corner office looked out over the D.C. landscape. The Triskellion had finally been repaired and had only become more secure and militarized as SWORD had grown in power, but it represented the central nervous system of the global intelligence and security system that had grown up in the past two years. "Where did you get this?"

"Found it on my doorstep," Steve said. He wasn't going to tell Fury that Ward had gotten it from a buddy who'd gotten it from a buddy who thought he needed to see it. Ward had trusted him to do something about it, not get everyone who was concerned in trouble.

"These specs are supposed to be eyes only," Fury said. "And you found them on your doorstep?"

"Yes sir. But you haven't said what they are."

"Helicarrier plans," Fury said finally. He looked annoyed, but he didn't look too furious. "We're flush with cash. They're under construction. I don't see a problem."

Steve shook his head, "They say that they'll be able to put a bullet through someone's back from hundreds of miles away."

"Better than one of our guys taking a bullet to their face," Fury said,

"They also say," Steve said, trying to get the point across, "That they use threat assessment programs to pick their targets. Project Insight?"

"Well, you can rest easy," Fury said, leaning back in his chair. "Project Insight has been mothballed."

Fury sounded like that solved everything. "It's got your signature on it," Steve said, pointing at the file.

"It had my signature on it," Fury replied, taking the file off his desk and putting it into paper shredder. The machine devoured the paper with the sound of a hundred grinding teeth. Steve didn't flinch. He had obviously made copies. Hard copies - That was standard procedure for secure documents, even in this age of marvels. "Your paperwork is old, probably how it wound up on your doorstep."

Steve did have to admit the dates were a little old - All late 2014 "So you're saying there will be no Project Insight," Steve said.

"Don't put promises into my mouth," Fury said as he leaned down into the shredder and pulled out the base with the paper. "But it's off the table for now. The Helicarriers are being brought up to snuff, especially as we start to use more high energy weapons and anti-gravity technology. No Insight." He drew a lighter out of his pocket and set fire to the bin.

"How many helicarriers?" Steve asked

"Thirty, now that the Russians are kicking in their share of the pot."

Steve blinked and did the math, "Enough firepower to kill ten thousand men a minute."

"Aliens too," Fury said, standing up and walking to the other side of the desk. He leaned back against the desk so that his good eye was on level with Steve's own, getting uncomfortably close. "That's so much less than the bombs they dropped on Hiroshima and Nagasaki."

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"I wasn't there for that," Steve said.

"Dresden then," Fury said leaning in, his face so close to Steve's that Steve could smell his breath.

"Sometimes you have to kill people in a war," Steve said. But they weren't in a war right now, not with anybody on the ground at least.

"Isn't it better that it's a clean bullet than a bomb that hits women? Children? The targeting satellites can scan DNA from space, the ships give permission to fire, and then its over."

"You've designed these things so they can shoot anyone, anywhere, anytime. Who gets to decide, who pulls the trigger?"

"Me," Fury said, leaning back and thus away from Steve's face.

"Why do you have that power?"

"Because it was given to me by the governments of the world."

"So you're the judge, the jury, and executioner?" Steve kept hoping that Fury would clarify that it would only be used on alien invaders.

"Somebody has to be."

Steve took that to mean that it would definitely also be used on humans. He leaned in now, mirroring Fury's earlier move. "No. They don't."

Fury got off the desk and walked over to the window, "See that out there? That's America. The country whose flag you wear. Three years ago it came under deadly assault. I wish to God we had these helicarriers up and running then."

Steve walked over and looked for where the Washington Monument had gone down. It had been rebuilt a new monument, but it was still a symbol of something. He had to acknowledge that it was a difficult problem. "So we got a bloody nose and now we're going to hold a gun to every man, woman, and child on the planet to make them behave?"

"Cap," Fury said looking out over city, "That's what we need to do. Humanity cannot afford any more distractions"

"Maybe what humanity can't afford is all these nooses you've fitted for them."

"Language like that is a beautiful thing," Fury said, "But it can't put breath back into some momma's baby's nostrils because we got squeamish."

"You can't wave that bloody shirt forever, Fury," Steve said, giving him a glare.

"You can't be that righteously indignant forever," Fury said without bothering to glance back at him.

"I think you'll be surprised."

"Maybe so," Fury said. "It's not my problem. The helicarriers are going up, it's not up to you. Hell, it's not even up to me. The World Security Council approved it."

Steve shook his head and left the room without saying anything else. Fury was right. It wasn't his call. France, Britain, the United States - They had all approved the project apparently and they spoke for their people as well as any governments on Earth. People were afraid and they were reaching for security wherever they could find it. But he didn't have to like it and he didn't like it, he didn't like it one bit.