Early the next morning, the helicopter crossed into United States airspace.
Suddenly, static crackled across the primary cabin comms channel, followed by a calm female voice breaking in: [Unidentified aircraft, this is the Skynet Satellite Monitoring Network under the North American Aerospace Defense Command (NORAD).
You have entered the United States Air Defense Identification Zone without a pre-filed flight plan.
Please provide a valid identification code within ten seconds or alter your course to vacate the area.
Repeat, please provide identification code immediately.] “Sir, we can only take you this far!” the pilot yelled back.
Green opened his eyes.
“Don’t stop.” He fumbled around in his pocket, pulled out a black chip and a communicator, popped open the casing, inserted the chip into the slot, and snapped it shut.
*Beep-beep.* The screen lit up.
[SHIELD Terminal: Please enter passcode.] “No passcode.” *Beep…* A concealed pinhole camera built into the communicator projected a blue light, scanning Green’s face.
[SHIELD Terminal: Identity confirmed.
Level 1 Agent Green Morgan.
Welcome to the sub-network.] Meanwhile, the comms channel went quiet for a second before the voice spoke again: [Identity scanned, Agent Morgan.
Welcome back to United States airspace.
Would you like to log your flight log into the system?] *This guy is actually an agent?!* Ho Yinsen hadn’t slept at all.
Hearing the exchange, he found it hard to believe and inwardly questioned the hiring standards of United States government agencies.
Ignoring Ho Yinsen’s inquisitive stare, Green leaned into the cockpit and picked up the transmitter.
“Negative.
Thanks for checking in and for your service.
Also, in sixty seconds, a special citizen will be parachuting out.
Please have the nearest police station prepare for a search and rescue.” [Copy that.] “Where are we?” Green asked, setting down the transmitter.
“Alaska.
No layovers, so we made good time,” the pilot replied.
“Wow, hear that, Yinsen?
The smoked fish around here is pretty good.
You should try some,” Green said, turning around to pull a parachute pack off the bulkhead rack.
“What?
You don’t mean…
I’m the one parachuting?!” Ho Yinsen pointed at himself in utter bewilderment.
“Bingo.
Smart guy.
Stand up.” “We’re not landing?” Ho Yinsen stood up instinctively.
“What are you, a VIP?
Landing?
Come on, it’s fun.” Green efficiently strapped the parachute pack onto him.
“I’ve never parachuted before!
As a kid, I nearly wet my pants climbing to the second floor!” Ho Yinsen stammered in desperation, glancing out the cabin door.
Outside, it was pitch black.
His legs turned to jelly—this was a blind night jump, the highest-risk drop possible.
“That’s why I called ahead for someone to rescue you.” Green grabbed a length of chain, clipping one end to the cash briefcase and the other to Ho Yinsen’s belt, even giving it a quick tug.
“Man up, will you?” *Gulp.* Ho Yinsen swallowed hard.
He stared into Green’s eyes—there wasn’t a trace of fear in them.
Psychology said that the eyes reflected one’s mental fortitude.
Green had an insanely strong mind, and his cold composure proved contagious.
“O…
okay?” Ho Yinsen nodded.
He had intended to sound firm, but his voice cracked at the last second.
“Good enough.” “Okay.” Ho Yinsen slowly turned around, walked over to the cabin exit, and pulled open the door.
Cold air rushed inside.
He whispered words of encouragement to himself, then suddenly remembered something and turned his head back.
“Um, how do I—” Before he could finish, Green planted a boot squarely on his back.
“GERONIMO—!!!” His bloodcurdling scream quickly vanished into the clouds.
“Just like that.” Green pulled his boot back and casually slid the door shut.
The parachute was electronic, equipped with an automatic altimeter deployment system.
Below was all wilderness—it wouldn’t kill him, just scare the daylights out of him.
Right then, his pocket vibrated.
Taking out his phone, he saw a transfer notification: $50,000,000 deposited from an unknown account.
“How generous.” Green knew it was Stane.
Their agreed price had been forty million, so Stane had overpaid.
For a brief second, Green felt a faint glimmer of conscience revive.
Slipping the phone back into his pocket, he yanked two stacks of hundred-dollar bills from his duffel bag and tossed them casually into the pilot’s lap.
“Tip.” The pilot’s sleepy expression vanished instantly.
“Thank you, sir!” “Take us to Ocala, Florida.” He had another contract waiting for him there—from the Life Foundation.
“Yes, sir!” *** [Queen Maeve and Homelander from the Seven saved the day once again, intercepting a hijacked armored truck on the streets of Brooklyn, and even stuck around to snap photos with some very lucky fans.] [The X-Men cracked the mystery of the Crystal Skull in South America—aliens actually exist!
Detailed information has been classified by the military, but our station will continue to follow the story.] [A-Train Energy Drink—Life is a race!
Available at Vought Supermarkets and major convenience stores nationwide.
Please drink as directed.
Overconsumption may cause rapid heartbeat, mild hallucinations, or an extreme craving for a red spandex suit.
Vought International reserves all rights of final interpretation.] *** The car radio continued its broadcast.
Engine hums and electronic buzzes echoed inside the vehicle.
Blinding sunlight pierced through his eyelids, and Tony’s eyes fluttered a few times before slowly opening.
“Yo, you’re awake?
You might feel a bit sick in the stomach right now and your head’s probably pounding.
That’s totally normal—bush viper venom leaves you with a hell of a hangover.” A familiar voice came from the side, one that inexplicably sent a slight chill down his spine.
Bleary-eyed, Tony looked over.
Green was chewing on a beef burger, talking around a mouthful of food.
Slumped in the passenger seat, Tony’s brain involuntarily replayed everything that had happened before he passed out at breakneck speed.
His facial muscles twitched, and he winced, pressing a hand to his forehead.
“Ugh…
I’m pretty sure the reason my stomach hurts is because of the knife you stuck in it.” He glanced down at his abdomen.
The wound had been bandaged, but it still throbbed with dull pain.
His throat was dry and tight, his voice raspy.
“You’re welcome.
Need me to fix you a cappuccino, Boss?” Green tossed him a water bottle.
Tony caught it, quickly unscrewed the cap, and took several heavy gulps before throwing Green a middle finger.
“I could have paid you double whatever your employer offered to stop,” Tony said once he caught his breath.
“All you had to do was ask.” “Can’t do that.
I have professional ethics.” “And yet you took both contracts?” Tony kept drinking.
“You alive are worth more to me.
So the end result is obvious: I killed you, contract complete; then I saved you, contract complete.
Perfect!” Green licked mayonnaise off the corner of his mouth, picked up a large cup of Coca-Cola, and sucked on the straw.
“Fuck.” Tony tossed the empty bottle out the window, only now noticing they were driving through open wilderness.
“Are we still in Afghanistan?” “Nope, we’re back in the good old US of A.” “Then I take it this isn’t the road to New York?” Tony looked at Green.
“Yeah.
Running a quick side mission along the way.” “Oh, a side mission.
Can I just pay you off for this little job too?
I’d like to get back ASAP.” “No can do.
Professional ethics.” “Shit.” Tony was starting to figure this guy out.
Unpredictable, horrible personality, keeps his word, but with a chaotic core set of rules.
A guy like this was destined to dance with danger.
“Where’s Yinsen?” he suddenly remembered, turning around to look at the back seat.
Empty.
“Right here,” Green squeezed the burger in his hand, thick juices sizzled out from the heavy beef patty.
“Yinsen Burger.” “Where did Yinsen go?” Tony stared at him seriously.
“Tsk.
Released him into the wild,” Green pouted, sounding bored.
“What?!” “Is he dead?” “He didn’t want you anymore.” “…Whatever.
Probably for the best.” Tony’s eyes dimmed briefly before he caught on.
He raised an eyebrow, adjusting his posture as if nothing had happened.
“Got anything to eat?” Tony reached toward the fast-food bucket on the dashboard and pulled out a cheeseburger.
His eyes lit up.
“Ooh, good taste!” “Remember to reimburse me for Yinsen’s release fee—plus that extra-layer cheeseburger you’re about to shove in your mouth,” Green said.
“Mmph…” Tony peeled off the wrapper and took a big bite.
The rich creaminess of the cheese collided perfectly with the hearty beef patty, while the crisp pickles cut through the grease with just the right amount of tang.
A wave of savory, slightly sweet flavor washed over his palate, thick with dairy aroma and rich meat juices.
Cheeks stuffed, he let out a satisfied grunt through his nose and couldn’t help but grin, leaning back against his seat to savor every chew.
“I’m back to life.
For this bite alone, I’d play Genie in a lamp for you.” “Then give me all your money.” Tony glanced sideways at Green.
“You serious?” “Uh-huh.” “The Genie isn’t as rich as me.” “Then forget it, put it on your tab.” Green downed his last bite, crumpled the wrapper into a ball, tossed it into the bag, and slammed his foot on the accelerator.
“Let’s roll!” The engine roared to life.
A sudden surge of acceleration pinned Tony back against his seat.
He hastily reached out to catch the bag of fries that almost slid off the console.
“What is your mission, anyway?” “Hunting.”