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"Fine, I won't go have a heart-to-heart with the NATO commander," Alexei said. "But don't you think equipment like that will be useful sooner or later? If you don't start preparing now, what are you going to do when you suddenly need it?"
...
"Damn it. You're right."
With a reluctant sigh, Henry transferred a file into Little Duck's database.
"I've designed several different mech concepts. They're only baseline models for now. Take a look and tell me what you think."
Alexei eagerly opened the files.
A moment later, he frowned.
"Rabbit, monkey, and bear?"
He stared at the display.
"Are you building a zoo? How about something humanoid? Something intimidating. The kind of thing that scares people just by looking at it."
"I don't make humanoid mechs."
Henry replied matter-of-factly.
"I make advanced amusement-park mascot suits."
"Didn't you call them mechanical prosthetics before?"
"Whatever. The important thing is that they're not weapons. Just mechanical devices with a few extra functions. I can simply lock people out of using them."
"Then... how about a dinosaur design?"
"That could work."
Henry nodded thoughtfully.
"What kind? Tyrannosaurus? Brachiosaurus? Velociraptor?"
He glanced at Alexei.
"Though you're not exactly slim enough for a velociraptor. The proportions would look weird. A Triceratops could work too. A Mosasaurus might be a little challenging."
"Forget it."
After a brief internal struggle, Alexei abandoned any attempt to force the issue.
He was no longer a super soldier of the Red Empire ordering equipment modifications from a logistics department.
Now he was merely an outsider working with someone else's resources.
And that someone also happened to be paying the bills.
Under those circumstances, Alexei found it difficult to make demands.
Resigned to his fate, he began reviewing the specifications of the three mechs.
The more he read, the stranger his expression became.
---
Noticing the look on his face, Henry said,
"If you've got questions, ask them. I'll answer what I can. If I don't answer, don't push."
Alexei pointed at the display.
"One long-range support unit. One fire-support and logistics unit. One assault unit."
He looked up.
"All three are designed to operate together as a coordinated combat group."
Then he tapped the ammunition specifications.
"Based on the standard combat loadouts, are you planning to fight an actual war with these things?"
Could Henry tell him they were preparations for the Chitauri invasion someday?
Not unless he wanted to be labeled insane.
As for why he was preparing in the first place...
Well, when something exciting was coming, why wouldn't he get involved?
He had no particular desire to fight the final boss himself, but there was nothing wrong with enjoying the spectacle while taking out a few lesser enemies along the way.
The real reason, however, was much simpler.
Training.
Once the technology matured, he could mass-produce combat units and establish an actual robotic army.
At that point, even the old-money elites would have to think twice before causing trouble.
That would be true freedom.
No matter how powerful a single individual became, there would always be people convinced they could control or defeat him.
An army, however, dramatically reduced the number of such fools.
Besides, Henry wasn't planning to personally pilot the machines.
He would rely on technology and recruit a few willing test subjects.
Whether one called it entertainment or military training didn't really matter.
Either way, he had no intention of missing the coming war.
So Henry merely smiled without answering.
Alexei immediately understood.
"Fine. I'll review the designs and let you know if I have suggestions."
---
"What names are you giving the three Sparrows?" Henry asked.
Alexei's expression softened with unmistakable affection and pride.
"Melina. Natasha. Yelena."
"Your wife and daughters?"
Henry blinked.
"You really think they'd be happy knowing you named three spy drones after them?"
"What's wrong with that?"
Alexei looked confused.
"My father was named Alexei. My grandfather was named Alexei. Even my old dog was named Alexei."
He shrugged.
"Whenever my mother shouted 'Alexei,' everyone had to judge from her tone of voice who she actually meant."
The mental image was so overwhelming that Henry found himself speechless.
It felt like shouting "Egghead" in a village and having half the population answer.
"Fine. Your choice. I won't interfere."
---
Thinking of the women Alexei had mentioned, Henry asked,
"You've been searching for nearly half a year. Still haven't found the Red Room?"
He narrowed his eyes.
"You didn't get distracted chasing side leads and accidentally spook them again, did you?"
Alexei immediately became serious.
"This time it really isn't my fault."
He leaned back and explained.
"The Red Room is unusual.
"In the intelligence world, people rarely solve problems by killing each other. Living assets have value."
"So most organizations prefer cooperation. Or they use their rivals as channels for feeding false information."
"Truth mixed with lies is completely normal."
He paused.
"But the reason I say the Red Room is special is because the Americans have always chosen destruction whenever they uncover information about it."
Alexei genuinely looked puzzled.
"Honestly, I'd love to ask why Americans hate the Red Room so much."
He spread his hands.
"They hate it enough that whenever they get an opportunity, they'll go to extreme lengths to destroy it."
"Sometimes they even use methods that are practically equivalent to military operations."
"That's why the Red Room stays hidden so well."
"And that's before considering the fact that I'm no longer part of the system."
He gave Henry a meaningful look.
"Do you think anyone is going to kindly hand me intelligence like that?"
Then he stared directly at him.
"So why do Americans hate the Red Room so much?"
His expression suggested that Henry might somehow know the answer.
Henry sighed.
"How would I know?"
"I'm not part of your intelligence circles."
"And I'm not even American."
He pointed at himself.
"I'm an alien. Remember? I already told you that."
---
"I've heard the story about the research facility," Alexei said.
"But is that really true?"
He studied Henry's face.
"You don't look like an alien."
"Honestly, your existence suggests one of two possibilities."
"Either humans are themselves descended from ancient extraterrestrial settlers, or humanity achieved interstellar migration in the distant past."
For once, the Red Guardian had activated his brain and arrived at a surprisingly reasonable conclusion based on the available evidence.
"I'm not an archaeologist either," Henry replied.
"So I can't answer that."
Frankly, he wasn't interested in contemplating why humanoid species seemed to dominate intelligent life throughout the universe.
Alexei suddenly asked,
"Have you ever tested for reproductive compatibility?"
The question itself sounded relatively serious.
Unfortunately, the suggestive movement of his hips while asking it was anything but.
For a moment, Henry seriously considered punching him into orbit.
Literally.
Before he could respond, Alexei threw an arm around his shoulders.
"Wait."
The middle-aged man's eyes widened.
"Don't tell me you've never actually been with a woman?"
"Your cover wife was Melina, wasn't she?"
Henry replied dryly.
"Maybe I should ask her which man she thinks performs better."
Alexei puffed out his chest.
"You'd definitely lose."
"Because Melina and I share something you don't."
"Love."
He spoke with complete confidence.
"Yes, our relationship began as part of a mission."
"But I could tell she was captivated by my masculine charm."
"I saw it in her eyes."
---
Well.
The Red Guardian had apparently unlocked a new character trait.
Besides being a chatterbox, he was also hopelessly narcissistic.
At this point, Henry concluded there was no saving him.
Reincarnation might be the only option.
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