"Hawk is back."
"…"
In the S.H.I.E.L.D. New York Operations Command Center beneath Times Square, John Garrett—who had successfully led Hydra's second uprising to seize control and was now sitting in Victoria Hand's office—listened to the electronic voice in his earpiece. He took a long breath.
A bad feeling, one that only seasoned operatives carried, welled up inside him.
"Sir…"
"You know what to do."
After saying this, Dr. Zola's digital voice went silent. At the same instant, he erased all traces of his presence from the New York S.H.I.E.L.D. systems.
The files showed Hawk wasn't particularly tech-savvy. His phone was a hand-me-down from his fiancée, his laptop bought second-hand online.
But still—
Better to be cautious.
As the comm went dead, Garrett felt his heart sink completely.
At that moment—
The office door opened.
Grant Ward entered, sharp in his suit, exuding that righteous air, dragging behind him a black-haired Asian woman with her hands cuffed and defiance etched on her face—Skye.
Garrett raised his eyes, smiled faintly at his foster son, then looked at the captive.
"So, you're Skye. Care to join us?"
"Pah!"
Spitting right at his desk, Skye glared furiously.
Garrett didn't get angry. He chuckled and pressed a button.
A Hydra agent walked in.
"Take her away."
"Yes, sir."
The man grabbed Skye from Ward, ignoring her struggles.
"Thud!"
"Ugh!"
Without mercy, the Hydra agent drove a fist into her stomach. Skye doubled over as he barked coldly, "Behave."
Garrett smiled at her bent form. "Don't worry, your release will come soon."
Skye thought he meant execution and stared daggers at him.
"S.H.I.E.L.D. will stop your evil plans. And you…"
"Grant, I must have been blind to ever trust you."
The memory of having once been close to him sickened her.
Ward kept his face blank, not even looking at her.
Garrett waved a hand.
The Hydra agent dragged Skye out, her voice echoing angrily until it faded.
Garrett watched his foster son, noticing the fleeting trace of emotion on his face.
"What's this—heartache?"
"No."
Ward shook his head. "Any obstacle to our great cause will be removed."
Garrett smiled again, then shifted his tone.
"You need to leave."
"…Target?"
Though puzzled, Ward quickly switched gears, awaiting his next assignment.
"Leave New York. Head to the Islands. You'll get your target on the plane."
"Understood."
Ward didn't hesitate. He nodded, turned, and left.
At the door, he glanced once in Skye's direction, then forced his eyes ahead and walked out.
Garrett, meanwhile, stared at the monitors, watching his foster son's figure retreat.
Another mission? Perhaps.
But not here. Not anymore. Not since Zola cut off contact.
So—
Even a tiger spares its cubs.
Garrett had raised Ward, shaped him into an efficient, ruthless Hydra operative.
But Ward was still his foster son.
So he chose to send him away.
Because that gnawing dread only grew stronger.
Operatives survived by instinct—and his screamed that Hawk was already here.
No—Hawk was here.
Ward, heading for the elevators, suddenly saw space warp before him. His instincts flared. He drew and fired instantly at the figure materializing in front of him.
"Bang!"
"Buzz!"
Fresh from teleporting in from the hospital, Hawk watched the bullet halt less than a millimeter from his brow, frozen midair by his will.
Then he looked at the young man—handsome, professional, gun smoking—and smiled faintly.
His eyes glowed crimson.
"Boom!"
"Splurt!"
Grant Ward, a man who in another story might have lasted two full seasons, froze in shock—and evaporated into vapor before he could even react.
Gasps erupted.
"Shit!"
"Contact! We're under attack!"
"It's the Demon King!"
Some Hydra agents, unaware of who Hawk was, drew weapons and opened fire.
Those who did know turned pale with terror, bolting for the exits.
But—
There is no escape from Phoenix Beams!
"Buzz!"
"Splurt!"
"Buzz buzz buzz!"
"Splurt splurt splurt!"
Hawk stood motionless, crimson beams sweeping from his eyes.
Where they passed, desks, equipment, Hydra agents—both fighters and runners—vanished in plumes of vapor.
In mere seconds, the command hall that Hydra had spent five hours seizing was purged.
Five minutes. That was all Hawk needed. Four of them spent hunting stragglers.
When he finally pushed open Victoria Hand's office door, 99% of Hydra's New York garrison had been erased.
Garrett sat calmly at the desk, cigarette in hand, taking a long drag.
As Hawk entered, he exhaled, savoring the smoke.
"Let me finish this last one?"
"Since you didn't run, sure."
"Thank you."
Garrett inhaled deeply, eyes half-lidded in pleasure.
For a moment, Hawk almost wished to join him.
But no—smoking was bad for health, and Gwen had told him it would harm their future child. He'd promised to wait.
Soon the cigarette was ash. Garrett exhaled his last plume, satisfaction on his face.
"Much obliged, Mr. Phoenix."
"You're welcome."
Hawk smiled faintly, but his gaze was sharp.
"Was it you who sent those three Hydra fools to my house?"
"Yes."
"May I ask why?"
"Sharon Carter is S.H.I.E.L.D. I am Hydra. I was ordered to take New York. If she escaped, it would make me look weak."
"Reasonable."
Hawk chuckled.
"But didn't it occur to you that in doing so, you might provoke me?"
"It did."
"And?"
"Sharon Carter had to die."
"I see."
Hawk's smile grew colder.
"You get one last chance. Any final words?"
Garrett rose, straightened his tie, and under Hawk's gaze, made a gesture—one so infamous it was banned across Europe.
Then—
…
(End of Chapter)
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