Chapter 401: The Avengers Plan
"OMG! Are you serious?" Leonard exclaimed.
Ron quickly gestured for him to be quiet. Sheldon had run to his room crying, and Ron didn't want to take a crazy person like Sheldon to meet Stan Lee.
Yes, that's right, he was planning to use his connection with Stan Lee to get into the convention, and he didn't mind bringing a few more people.
"You guys don't forget who took you to meet Stan Lee last time, do you? That's right, we're good friends. If you can't get tickets, maybe you can come with me. Using the Marvel booth's access, getting a few more tickets is pretty easy."
Ron wasn't exaggerating. In fact, his relationship with Stan Lee was better than most people imagined. As someone with unique insights, no one understood the future of Marvel Studios better than Ron. Ron could even offer good advice on Stan Lee's cameo poses in movies, so he always had a lot to talk about with the old man and even considered him a confidant.
"Can we come with you? We promise we won't tell Sheldon." Rajesh tried hard to suppress his excitement, but Sheldon's almost superhuman hearing still caught it.
"What? Come with you? You found the tickets?" Sheldon appeared out of the bedroom at some point.
"Okay, Sheldon, I can get a few comic convention tickets through Marvel, but you have to pay a price, you know what I mean." Ron, knowing Sheldon's difficult nature and unable to hide it any longer, decided to set a condition and have some fun with him.
"Is it that maid outfit from last time? No problem! I promise you, as long as you take me to the comic convention." Sheldon was really going all out to get to the comic convention.
But now it was Ron's turn to be in a dilemma. He originally wanted to tease Sheldon, and as everyone knows, the greatest fun in teasing someone is seeing them make a fool of themselves, and if someone isn't afraid of making a fool of themselves, then the fun of teasing them is immediately halved.
Sheldon's current enthusiasm even gave Ron the illusion that he was gay and had a huge passion for cross-dressing.
Okay, while the actor who played Sheldon did eventually come out, Sheldon himself probably wouldn't have any problems, right? Or maybe he could try again this time?
Thinking this, Ron immediately had a mischievous idea: "No, Sheldon, let's try a different approach this time. If you want a ticket to the comic convention from me, you have to wear the cosplay outfit I specify. How about it?"
The maid Sheldon Christmas cards from a few years ago are still talked about by the family members; maybe Ron could make this one even more elaborate.
"Of course! I'd even cosplay as Green Lantern if you wanted me to get into the comic convention. God, that's my least favorite character."
"I remember you said last time Aquaman was the worst character," Rajesh questioned.
"Okay, Green Lantern is the second worst character now, YUCK!"
"Wait, when did I say you got to choose your own character?" Ron interrupted Sheldon's complaints, his eyes darting around, a mischievous idea popping into his head: "What do you think of Wonder Woman, Sheldon?"
"But she's a female superhero."
"Yeah, otherwise how would it be interesting?" Ron grinned mischievously: "I remember the convention is three days long, Wonder Woman on the first day, Catwoman on the second, and on the third day, guys, help me think of some other interesting characters?"
"How about She-Hulk? We can paint Sheldon completely green and have him wear a tattered bikini." Howard suggested gleefully.
"That's a great idea." Ron clapped and cheered, and so Sheldon's three-day cosplay outfit for the convention was decided amidst Sheldon's protests.
After discussing everyone's comic convention costumes for a while, Raj suddenly became curious about Ron's outfit: "I'll cosplay Thor, Leonard as Frodo, Howard as Robin Hood, Ron, what character are you planning to cosplay? Or are you just going to the comic convention as a regular tourist?"
"Since we're going to a comic convention, I'll definitely go with the flow. Not just me, my crew will probably be too. Maybe cosplaying the entire Avengers would be a good choice."
As he spoke, a strange light flashed in Ron's eyes, and no one knew what he was really thinking. Finally, on the day of the comic convention, led by Ron's Captain America cosplay, the IRS Special Task Force team arrived at the San Diego convention, their outstanding appearance attracting countless eyes.
As everyone knows, at comic conventions, countless people compete to cosplay popular characters like superheroes, but few can achieve the same level of accuracy as Ron and his team.
Ron's handsome appearance was already comparable to that of the original actor, Chris Evans, not to mention his noticeably stronger physique. He attracted countless eyes the moment he entered, so he had to wear a mask to block the girls' flirtatious stares.
Flanking him were Gisele as Black Widow, Duke as the Hulk, Blake and his wife as Vision and Scarlet Witch, Hank as Thor, Deckard Shaw as the Vulture, and Arthur as Hawkeye.
Except for Hank, all the characters received unanimous praise.
"Sorry, is it my fault for lowering the team's overall attractiveness?" Hank complained indignantly, following behind Ron. "I told you, this outfit doesn't suit me!"
Arthur retorted mercilessly, "If you gained ten pounds, you might be able to wear SpongeBob's costume."
Ron was getting a headache from their bickering; they'd been arguing like this the whole way. He had to intervene: "Don't forget, we have a mission. Remember our plan?"
"Yes."
"Good. Everyone, dismissed. You're free to do as you please, but make sure you've talked to at least five people and occasionally take off your masks. Meet at the back door in thirty minutes. Carl will be waiting for us there in his car. Then we'll go to the airport to catch a flight to Washington. The flight will take at least five hours. We don't have that much time to waste, guys."
Ever since Ron heard that Sheldon and his four nerdy friends were going to the comic convention, he'd been planning today's activities. If he wanted to launch a raid on Fort Detrick, there was no better opportunity.
Ron is a well-known figure in the intelligence community and has long been on the watch lists of various agencies. If he suddenly disappears, even for just one day, it will arouse suspicion from those with ulterior motives, let alone the disappearance of the entire team.
So he devised this plan of substitution. For most geeks, the San Diego Comic-Con might be a rare and precious event, but for Ron, it was a massive masquerade ball where he could conceal his presence.
He and his men, dressed in cosplay costumes, could blend seamlessly into the crowd of convention enthusiasts, disappearing without a trace. Those dressed as him would even become his perfect decoys.
Then, he could simply exchange a few words, leaving the impression that he had been to the convention, and then leave, thus completing the raid on Fort Detrick unnoticed.
Moreover, inspired by a certain movie, Ron even had a brilliant alibi, but all of this would have to wait until after the raid was complete before proceeding with the next step.
Ron glanced at the time; it was almost time.
He patted Mera's shapely buttocks, who was nestled against him, and said, "Excuse me, my friend called me. Your name is Amber, right? I'll remember you. I'll definitely call you tonight. Don't get too drunk."
After giving her a kiss on the forehead and successfully escaping, Ron immediately went to the back door, where his men were already waiting in the car.
"I'll say it one last time, this mission has nothing to do with the IRS's work and may get you into even bigger trouble," Ron scanned the eyes of each of his men, confirming one last time. "It's not too late to back out now. Go back to the comic convention, have some fun, and when we get back, we'll pretend nothing happened. But if you get in the car, there will be no chance to regret it, and you might even die."
Ron emphasized the word "die."
After meeting with Mason, Ron called a secret meeting with his men. To his surprise, everyone, including Mason and his old crew, joined his plan to save the world without exception.
"How could I miss out on something this exciting?" Carl said, eager to stir up trouble.
Ron's gaze swept across the faces of the others, and after confirming that no one intended to back out, he kicked the driver's seat: "Drive. While we're on the road, I'll explain the plan for this operation. But first, your current outfits are unusable; you need to change into another cosplay costume..."
Fort Detrick, located in Frederick, Maryland, is the U.S. Army Medical Research Institute of Infectious Diseases and a U.S. biological and chemical weapons base. It's an hour's drive from the U.S. Army Medical Command in Washington, D.C., and is currently protected by a thousand-strong army.
Although this army is nominally part of the U.S. Army's combat order, it actually only obeys the orders of the radical Freemason branch: Eteon. They also have their own internal name: Cobra.
The virus sample stored at this base is the target of Ron's team's mission. However, before Ron's team arrived, another group of elderly men led by Joe Mason had already begun their operation.
Their target, however, wasn't the base itself, but a civilian airport more than a thousand kilometers south of it.
This is a flying club filled with major warplanes from various countries during World War II. Clubs like this are not uncommon in the United States, often spontaneously formed by WWII veterans or enthusiasts.
They acquire aircraft wreckage from all over the world, scavenging for scrap, and then, with their superb skills, repair these once-flying machines, occasionally taking them out for a spin.
The existence of such clubs even provides modern scholars with a wealth of material for studying World War II.
But now, the old men of this club have been imprisoned here for five days. Ever since Ron began his plan, they have been kidnapped and trapped here by Mason and his men.
Mason hasn't mistreated them; he simply made them inspect all the planes again, reinstall the weapon systems they brought, and fly them around a few times as usual.
Of course, they had considered simply flying them away, but Mason told them that if any one of them didn't return, he would kill everyone else. Terrified, the technicians could only tremble and submit to Mason's commands.
"I've enjoyed spending these past few days with you all, but all good things must come to an end. Farewell, gentlemen!" Mason bowed elegantly to the group of technicians, whose average age was 60. If it weren't for the two armed henchmen behind him, some might have thought he was giving a toast.
"I'll close this door in a moment, but don't worry, it will automatically explode in three hours. Although I've precisely calculated the amount of explosives, please don't get too close to avoid accidental injury. Well then, farewell."
"You devils, what are you trying to do?!" the club president demanded angrily.
"Saving the world, of course!" Mason bowed again and left the warehouse, where his companions had been waiting for a long time.
"Andy, Hannibal, Marcus, Marvin, Frank, there are six planes here: two F4U Corsairs, one Mark IV Spitfire, one BF-109F, and two rare F-51 Mustang bombers.
God knows, if it weren't for these two planes, I would have already taken action against that club in Maine. There are two pretty old ladies in that club; maybe I could have taken one of you."
"No, I'm not interested in old ladies. I only want to date young girls," Marvin shook his head.
"Not everyone has Frank's luck. You should be realistic, my buddy," Marvin pulled off his mask, which made him feel a bit stuffy. "So, how do we divide up these planes?"
"Marcus isn't very familiar with the planes, so he can fly the German BF109. That plane is the easiest to learn. After these few days of training, I think you should be able to handle it," Frank thought for a moment.
"Hannibal and Andy, the Corsairs are yours. I dealt with the British when I was in the army, so the Spitfire is mine. Marvin and Mason, you served in the Air Force, so you can fly the Mustang bombers. We'll provide escort, and you'll be in charge of dropping the bombs. How about that?"
"No problem. Let's take off then. The BOSS is waiting for our air support." Mason pulled down his visor and was the first to climb into the plane.
Vroom~
The engine ignited, and the F-51 took off after a short taxi on the rudimentary runway.
The best thing about flying in the US is that as long as you buy a private plane and have a pilot's license, you can fly freely at low altitudes without having to apply for flight routes or anything from the relevant authorities.
All of the club's aircraft were registered with the FAA (Federal Aviation Administration) without any issues. The airspace manager glanced at the signals emitted by the aircraft but continued drinking coffee and reading the newspaper, paying no further attention.
(End of Chapter)
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