He'd barked a "-Yeah?" into the phone; he didn't have time for more shit. But the voice on the other end of the line made Nick's blood run cold. The man who could stay calm in all this chaos, dependable and undaunted, felt something he hadn't felt on years. The man without fear was afraid. He backed away from his men for somewhere quieter, ripped his S.H.I.E.L.D. communicator from his ear so he could press the phone there as he muttered a command to trace the number he redialed. In a few moments he had gps coordinates and was shouting at his next in command to take over. He had to leave. Nick had bigger problems than Times Square.