They could have done this in some official SHIELD building or in official Air Force facilities, but that was no fun. The truth was Rhodey suspected Fury was uncomfortable with that. Just because Rhodey had spent half his life up to his ears in brass and congressional hearings, and babysitting Tony through them, didn't mean everyone had Rhodey's level of comfort with officialdom. Besides, Fury had an image to protect and Rhodey, whose preppy background meant he couldn't hope to aspire to Fury's level of cool, was fine with that.

Which was why they were having this meeting in a bar in an not-yet-gentrified part of Harlem where the lights were low, the leather seats in the booths were beginning to crack: where they could sit with their backs against the wall and Fury could do that thing he did which involved seeing more with one eye than most men did with two. And where the music on the jukebox was old school Motown, which Rhodey was humming along with as he came in and found his way to where Fury was sitting.

Rhodey touched his hand to his forehead in a mock salute as he approached Fury. "How's it going?"

Fury gave a half nod back, his whiskey sitting neatly on a napkin while he surveyed the place. Regular meet-ups with Rhodey had been nice, especially since there was a neutral level between the two men.

Of course, tonight’s meeting had an air of importance to it because well, Nick called it.

“I can feel trouble brewing,” he said, motioning to the chair next to him. The music was playing nicely, drowning out most of what they were saying, although really, it didn’t matter. No one was paying attention to two older men, drinking in peace and quiet. There was a pool game going on, and from the sounds of it, some money was exchanging hands. Large amounts.

“I spoke with our sweet guest. She is not as lovely as her name would imply.” Candy was a stone-cold bitch, actually, who mainly laughed at Fury and sometimes cried. It depended on what eye patch he was wearing. “I’ll deny this if you tell anyone, but I might be getting too old to be intimidating.” He raised a non-existent brow. “What do you think? Did you piss yourself when you saw me today?”

The music was covering enough of whatever was going on at the pool table that Rhodey didn't feel obliged to pay attention to it.

"I don't piss myself when I see you but that's because I have nerves of steel. You've still got it, Fury. But if you want me to talk to her, I can do it. Good colonel, bad colonel? Or maybe bad colonel and worse colonel? Or is it just that she's drunk too much of whatever kool-aid her friends were offering and she doesn't know to be scared?" Thunderbolt Ross was a blowhard who would--and had--put people in the Raft, but Nick Fury was the real deal. If he'd put you in the Raft or something like, you'd never come back again. Not least because your friends would either think you were dead or they wouldn't necessarily know you'd been grabbed in the first place.

“Kool-aid is a tricky thing,” Fury responded, relaxing slightly. He liked this kind of banter, made him feel good. Tony may think that Fury thrived on superiority (okay, he kind of did), but at the end of the day, Fury thrived on equality . Being able to talk to someone on his level was so much better than blind devotion. In a way, it was what what annoyed him the most about Tony -- the useless banter, the word play, the circles.

Just the facts, ma’am.

“Hard to wean someone off of that diet without replacing it with something else. No, what I’m most worried about is if this one is so clammed up, there might be something more there. Some type of brainwashing, maybe. Or she’s so far down the chain that she doesn’t know anything.” That also worried him. “She caused a lot of damage for being a minion.”

"Sometimes a minion with a toy they don't know what to do with exactly is dangerous. Smart-stupid people, the ones smart enough to get into trouble, are the scariest. They know enough to get themselves into trouble and not enough to get themselves out." That was honestly not meant as a dig about Tony, but Rhodey realized after it came out of his mouth that Fury might decide he meant it that way. Or that it applied even if he didn't mean it that way. "We could talk to one of the--" Rhodey wiggled his fingers "--people if we think there's brainwashing involved."

“Might be an option,” Fury said after a moment. “It depends on what we want to do with that information though. If it’s going to be turned to the state … well, we need to ensure we received that information in a completely iron-clad way. If we use ,” and here he waggled his fingers like Rhodey did “well, it’s not necessary done in the correct way, is it?” He reached for his drink and lightly moved the cup in a circle, watching the liquid swirl. “Now if we want the information for us, and the rest of the world be damned…”

He stopped and thought for a moment.

“We could use ..other means though. Take Maximoff for instance. Her powers would be useful, but like hell she would work for me. There’s also Strange, but he does things on his own agenda. I doubt he’d help.” Another sigh.

“Fuck it. You try. Do whatever you want. I’ll give you free rein.”

"We have enough to keep Candy in the Raft for a long, long time as it is. What we need now is find out what and who else is out there. I learned my classical mythology in school just like you. We get one head, two more grow back. That was the story. You have to burn it to get it stop. So, we burn it. But we gotta find the heads to burn them down.

"I'll do it, and I'll talk to Wanda. We'll see what we can get out of her." Rhodey shook his head. "I can be the nice guy. And I can keep Ross off our case for as long as possible. Ross mostly wants results. Results that can be credited to him." He made a face; he believed in the mission, not the crowd-pleasing. Ross was far too interested in what made him look good, and, Rhodey suspected, had an interest in a more powerful job than Secretary of State.

Fury had no time for Ross.

“Maybe we should let him meet Candy. Let him know how it feels to do some actual work for once.” Of course, that would be horrible and would cause more problems for them than anything else. The damage control alone… Fury shuddered.

He downed his drink and tapped his finger on the empty glass.

“It’s been going too good here. You know how I feel about the calm.” And Fury still had that twinge that, although he’d vetted everyone personally in his space … well, when you started to expand, it was almost impossible to know everyone.

Fuck.

"I feel the same way. We just have to be ready for whatever's coming. And if we're putting it in my court, well, I'll find out what I can. Still, expect the unexpected and all that shit." Rhodey waved his hand toward the world outside the bar. "Tonight, though, we have good music and good liquor. Let's enjoy it while we can."

And that got an actual smile from Nick, because with that statement, he knew he could shut off Fury, and be himself. It wasn’t a bad thing, letting people in. The waitress arrived with a new drink, shuttling off with his old one. Nick picked it up and lifted it to Rhodey. “I’ll drink to that. You’ll handle this, I know you will. And you have all my resources. Talos. Lewis. Hope. Even Nat would join in, I’m sure.”

None of them were alone, was what he was basically trying to say.

Such a strange thought.