Killing intent?
Pierce wanted to kill Bismarck?
Natasha's eyes widened in shock.
"Looking for me? I have no grudge against you. Why would I come after you? Surrounding you was only meant to ensure you cooperate with S.H.I.E.L.D.'s investigation. If you cooperate, nothing will happen," Pierce said, feigning surprise as he looked at Bismarck.
But Bismarck only sneered.
"Stop pretending. You are not S.H.I.E.L.D., you are Hydra. You are the one who plotted against the former head of the Phils family. It was you who organized the assault on the Phils estate with dozens of F-22s. Did you think you could fool everyone? Do not be foolish. My master has seen through it all. Accept judgment. Tell me, how do you wish to die?"
Her eyes glittered with icy killing intent as she stared at Pierce.
"What? Impossible!" Natasha was the first to cry out in disbelief. Her face showed utter shock.
Damn it, they had been exposed.
Pierce's mind raced. But before he could form a plan, a crushing wave of pressure descended upon him, smothering his thoughts. He roared instead, "Resisting S.H.I.E.L.D. investigation. Fire immediately! Execute her at once! All armed units, open fire!"
"Yes, sir!"
Rat-a-tat-tat!
Gunfire exploded like a torrential storm. Bullets poured toward Bismarck and Natasha in a deadly rain, without the slightest concern that one of their own was in the line of fire.
Natasha's pupils shrank. The roar of weapons filled the air.
Everyone thought the woman would be shredded by bullets. Instead, something else occurred.
An invisible shield of energy materialized in front of the two women. The storm of bullets slammed against it, sparking against the unseen barrier before clattering uselessly to the ground. At their feet lay a pile of spent rounds, powerless against her defense.
Bismarck raised her hand. A cloud of gray energy surged forward faster than anyone could react. The Rotting Poison struck the soldiers in the front line.
Screams erupted as their bodies shriveled. Their skin sagged against bone, muscles wasting away in seconds. Then, one by one, they collapsed into black ash that drifted away on the wind.
The horrific scene froze everyone in place. For a moment, even their breath stopped. Fingers hovered over triggers but failed to pull.
"My God!"
"Demon! She's a demon!"
"This can't be real!"
Cries of terror filled the ranks.
The weaker soldiers dropped their weapons and fled. Others, refusing to believe what they saw, tried to hold their ground, unleashing more gunfire.
The result was the same. Not a single bullet pierced the shimmering shield.
Bismarck smirked coldly. Step by step, she began walking toward Pierce, her heels echoing on the concrete floor.
"Fire! Fire, damn it!" Pierce shouted, panic creeping into his voice.
"Artillery, get those Quinjets to fire now!" soldiers screamed, fear breaking their discipline.
They forgot they were barely meters from Pierce himself. If the Quinjets fired missiles, the blast radius would consume them as well. Terror had stripped them of reason.
Pierce's eyes darted wildly as Bismarck drew closer, each step like the toll of a death bell. He wanted to flee. He willed his legs to move, but an overwhelming pressure pinned him where he stood.
He could only watch as the woman approached like a reaper in human form, cold and merciless.
The air itself grew frigid, heavy with the stench of death. Every soul present felt as though they had been plunged into the heart of winter, their very spirits frozen.
Pierce's heart sank into despair. He had never imagined she wielded such power.
Yes, he had been the one behind the F-22 attack. His goal was simple: to eliminate the heirs of the Phils family. Without a leader, their vast wealth and influence would be unclaimed. Hydra could devour it whole. If they succeeded, the organization would gain a financial empire overnight.
It was worth the risk, or so he had believed.
But he had underestimated them. He had dismissed Roland Phils, Jason Kin's mortal identity, as a useless young heir. He had not considered that he might command such terrifying allies.
He had miscalculated. Now, regret clawed at him.
But regret was meaningless.
Above, the Quinjets circled, weapons locked but unmoving. They did not dare fire. The target was too close to Pierce.
But if they held back, Pierce would die anyway.
Snarling, Pierce gritted his teeth, desperation twisting his face. "Quinjet squadron, listen carefully. If she takes another step, open fire! Do not spare anyone. Do you hear me? No hesitation!"
His order was not just for the pilots. It was a threat directed at Bismarck herself. He hoped it might make her pause.
But Bismarck's expression did not change. She did not slow her stride.
Natasha's heart sank as she cursed Pierce's stupidity.
She still remembered that day. Dozens of F-22s had attacked, only to explode like fireworks in the sky. If fighter jets had been of any use, they would have been effective back then.
To believe missiles could kill this woman was sheer madness.
Not even nuclear weapons might suffice.
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