“Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division.”
The one-eyed, bald Black man standing at the front spoke first.
Holding a clipboard in one hand, his solitary right eye fixed sharply on Linus Vance.
“The mess in South America was far too large to ignore.
We need to talk, Dr.
Vance.”
Linus casually smoothed Betty’s disheveled blonde hair, his fingers lightly pinching her cheek.
With an unhurried demeanor, his thumb wiped away the smudged lipstick at the corner of her lips.
“The name is too long.
I suggest holding an internal meeting and rebranding yourselves as SHIELD.”
“Entering without knocking…
didn’t your director teach you any manners?
Director Chrome Dome.”
Nick Fury’s face darkened at the moniker.
He raised a hand, signaling the agents behind him to lower their muzzles.
Linus supported Betty by her waist and lifted her off the desk.
Leaning close to her ear, he kept his voice low, yet it carried an undeniable tone of absolute control.
“Go wait in the lounge outside.
Touch up your lipstick while you’re at it—I kissed it all off.”
“Be a good girl.”
“Once I handle this ill-mannered trash, we’ll pick up where we left off with our grown-up business.”
A jolt like an electric current surged from Betty’s tailbone straight to the back of her head.
Biting her lower lip, she avoided looking the agents in the eye.
In front of this man, she possessed zero power to resist.
She nodded softly and, on slightly trembling legs, hurried out of the executive office.
The heavy door clicked shut behind her.
Only Linus and the five SHIELD operatives remained in the office.
Linus turned around, walked over to his massive leather executive chair, and sank into it.
He crossed his legs, resting his feet on the edge of the mahogany desk, and drew a cigar from the side before lighting it.
Pale blue smoke drifted upward.
Through the haze, Linus looked down his nose at the men standing before him.
He exhaled a neat smoke ring.
“Say what you have to say and get out.
My time is expensive.”
Unable to stomach such sheer arrogance, a young agent stepped forward, his finger resting taut against the trigger guard.
“Watch your tone!
You’re speaking to national security—”
Before the agent could finish his sentence, Linus didn’t even shift his posture.
He merely flicked his finger against the solid steel cigar cutter resting on the desk.
*Whoosh!*
The steel cutter struck the Glock in the agent’s grip with pinpoint precision.
The hardened steel firearm instantly shattered into a shower of broken components.
The immense kinetic force rebounded down the grip, drawing a sharp scream from the agent as he was thrown backward, slamming heavily into the wall behind him.
The remaining three agents reacted in shock, raising their weapons in unison to aim at Linus.
Fury barked an immediate order.
“Lower your weapons!
Fall back!”
The South American battle damage assessment sat right on Fury’s desk.
He knew better than anyone that the refined-looking Asian man in the crisp white shirt before him had reduced a berserk Hulk into pulp with a single hand.
Conventional firearms were nothing more than toys to him.
The agents reluctantly backed away two paces, though their muzzles did not completely drop.
Fury stepped forward, resting both hands on the edge of the mahogany desk, attempting to project an imposing presence.
“Dr.
Vance, your power far exceeds conventional comprehension.”
“SHIELD cleaned up your mess with the military.
General Ross won’t be coming after you again.”
“In exchange, we need to conduct a threat assessment on you.”
“This era belongs to people like us.
I have an Avengers Initiative underway, and I want you in it.”
Linus held the cigar between his teeth and let out a low chuckle from his throat.
He pointed at Fury through the air with two fingers holding his cigar.
“Director Chrome Dome, did you really come all this way just to paint pie-in-the-sky promises?”
“Enlist me?
With what?
With that sieve of an agency of yours, that Hydra-SHIELD rotting from the inside out?”
Fury’s single eye narrowed to a slit.
His tone turned grim.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Linus leaned forward, pressing two fingers onto the desk’s edge.
He effortlessly pinched two deep indents into the solid mahogany slab.
Staring straight at Fury’s bald head, he dropped a bombshell.
His cadence was steady, yet every single word struck like a dagger.
“Cut off one head, two more shall take its place.”
“What?
Is Secretary Alexander Pierce doing well these days?”
“Tell me, do the elevators at your agency feel particularly crowded lately?”
The moment those words were spoken, Fury’s breathing hitched.
Pierce was the former director and Fury’s most trusted mentor.
Yet the slogan Linus had just uttered was the core, sacred motto of Hydra—an organization that was supposed to have been eradicated in World War II!
Fury’s right hand dropped straight to the custom energy sidearm at his waist.
He was not merely an administrator; he was a battle-hardened super spy.
Yet in this moment, cold sweat trickled down the smooth curve of his scalp.
Fury glared intently at Linus.
“Who the hell are you?
Where did you learn that?”
Linus leaned back into his chair and stubbed out his cigar in the ashtray.
“Who I am doesn’t matter.”
“What matters is that more than half the people in the secret base you’re so proud of are whispering ‘Hail Hydra’ behind your back.”
“You can’t even clean out the rats in your own house, and you have the nerve to lecture me on oversight?”
The office fell so dead silent that a pin drop would have echoed.
The three conscious agents couldn’t comprehend the cryptic exchange, but they could clearly see their director was completely cornered.
Linus gave Fury no room to catch his breath, stating his price outright.
He rose to his feet.
His tall frame, combined with a foundation on par with the Hulk, radiated an overwhelming pressure.
“I want Level 10 network clearance in SHIELD.”
“Furthermore, for every shipment of goods and every research project under the Star Umbrella Corporation, SHIELD will grant a green light across the board.”
“In exchange, I won’t dismantle the Triskelion.”
“Do we have a deal?”
Veins bulged on the back of Fury’s hands.
This was blatant, one-sided extortion.
Yet he