Re: Mayflowers: Max & Sharon
Faith wasn't Max's strong suit. She could trust in a team, if they were competent and she'd worked with them long enough, but she was always better as a lone agent. She trusted herself, and that was another of the General's ingrained lesson. She did well in the Army, but she'd been a soldier then, and her mindset had been different. The CIA had worked her into something that knew it could never look out for anyone but herself on a mission, and too many jobs resulted in causalities left overseas to rot in the dunes somewhere. She liked Carter, but she didn't like this SHIELD thing. She knew about prices to be paid, but she knew that only trouble came from the kind of passion that needed to take things down, regardless of cost. Too much emotional investment, and that was when she recommended someone be reassigned, generally. Distance, not being too close, that was the way to succeed.
But Max wasn't a superhero, and she never would be. Maybe that was the difference.
"There's no way they haven't noticed 41 agents, Carter. They were all on payroll. Even if you wiped everything, they can get to them. Come on. Don't sweet talk me. I know better." She sipped her beer, and she looked down at the dog. "Politics and downsizing my ass. You have a rogue agent out their killing their UCs in the Ukraine and god knows where else, and if you don't think they had moles in your department? You're being naive." Max was always blunt, to a fault. It was why she didn't have many friends, but she'd never cared for a big social circle. Why would she?
She shook her head, swigged down the rest of her beer and reached for the greasy burger. "This is a fucking mess."