When Smith's team had departed the Fraternity headquarters, they'd numbered three. Upon their return, they'd grown to six, Natasha, Alexei, Melina, Yelena, the Taskmaster, and a control tablet that represented hundreds of conditioned Black Widows scattered across the globe.
Smith headed directly to Bulma's laboratory, finding the genius inventor precisely where he'd left her, surrounded by holographic displays and half-disassembled technology, her mind clearly working through multiple engineering problems simultaneously.
The moment she spotted him, her entire demeanor shifted. She abandoned her workstation and latched onto his arm with theatrical protest.
"Brother Smith! You promised to take me out! When are you actually going to keep that promise?"
Smith touched her head awkwardly, acutely aware that he'd been postponing this commitment for weeks. "Two days. I promise, two days."
He tried to make it sound more appealing. "I'll introduce you to one of the smartest people on this planet. A genuine inventive genius, you'll probably enjoy comparing notes."
Bulma couldn't care less about meeting another scientist. Her focus remained entirely on the "taking her out" part. "It's a deal. Two days, no excuses."
Her smile brightened immediately, her mind already planning outfit choices and wondering where they'd go. Some other genius inventor? Please. Who could possibly match her capabilities?
"Oh!" Bulma suddenly remembered her actual work. "The scouter modifications you requested are complete. We can begin mass production whenever you want."
She pulled up technical specifications on a nearby display. "The first-generation commercial version has a detection ceiling of 150 points. Anything beyond that will overload the device, it'll explode, but safely. No shrapnel, no injury risk."
Her fingers swiped through additional screens. "I had to remove the perspective function and the wide-area life energy scanning. Too advanced for mass production, too easy to reverse-engineer. This version requires direct visual contact with the target for readings."
"However," she continued with obvious pride, "I retained the communication functionality. And as a bonus, we can monitor any conversations conducted through these devices. They'll think they have secure channels, but we'll hear everything."
Her expression turned more serious. "I've also added anti-tampering measures. External disassembly attempts or data intrusion will trigger the self-destruct. Again, safely, but it'll destroy the device completely."
Smith's smile widened. This was even better than he'd hoped. A detecter network that could track power levels globally while providing surveillance capabilities? That was strategic gold.
"As expected from Bulma. Absolutely brilliant."
Bulma practically glowed under the praise. Then her attention shifted to the unconscious blonde woman secured to a medical bed nearby. "Brother Smith, who's this sister you brought back?"
"That's Yelena," Smith explained. "She has a neurological implant in her brain, chemical conditioning that allows external control of her actions and suppresses free will."
His expression grew more serious. "Can you research it? Develop a countermeasure or antidote?"
Bulma released his arm, her hand moving to her chin in thought. Her analytical mind was already working through biological systems, neural chemistry, potential intervention methods. "Let me examine her. I can't guarantee anything without understanding the mechanism, but..." She nodded slowly. "I'll figure something out."
Smith felt a surge of relief. If Bulma said she'd figure it out, she would. "Thank you. Really."
"I need to brief the others now, but I haven't forgotten, two days, I promise."
He left the laboratory, heading toward the conference room where Natasha's family waited.
Smith entered the conference room to find Natasha, Alexei, and Melina seated around the table, their expressions suggesting they'd been having serious discussions in his absence.
He took his seat at the head of the table. "I've delivered Yelena to our chief scientist. She's exceptionally talented, if anyone can develop a countermeasure for this neurological virus, it's her."
His attention shifted to Melina. "You participated in the Red Room's research. Any insights that might accelerate antidote development?"
This wasn't just about Yelena. The control tablet in his possession represented hundreds of Black Widows still under conditioning. The ones at the Red Room base had been trainees, reservists who'd died when they attacked him. But the graduates, the elite operatives Dreykov had deployed globally, those were different. Skilled, experienced, strategically positioned. If Smith could free them from conditioning, they'd become assets rather than potential threats.
Melina shook her head. "I was a Red Room scientist, but not in the neurological division. They compartmentalized research specifically to prevent anyone from developing countermeasures."
Her expression darkened. "I'm under the conditioning myself. I physically cannot harm Dreykov, or couldn't, before you eliminated him. If I'd had access to antidote research, he never would've trusted me enough for you to reach me."
Smith nodded understanding. "Then we wait for Bulma to crack it."
Natasha cleared her throat, drawing his attention. "Smith, I need to thank you. For saving my family, for revealing the truth, for letting me finally achieve real vengeance instead of the false closure SHIELD fabricated."
She stood, and Melina and Alexei rose with her. As one, all three dropped to one knee before him.
"We cannot possibly repay such kindness," Natasha said formally. "So instead, we offer you our loyalty. We pledge ourselves to your service."
Their voices unified: "We are willing to serve."
Smith studied them carefully. This wasn't spontaneous, they'd clearly discussed this during his absence, reached consensus, prepared their approach. Natasha had learned about the Fraternity's scope from Fox, understood the organization's principles and power. Melina had probably grilled her for every detail.
And they'd concluded that this was where they wanted to be. Not SHIELD with its lies and manipulation. Not Russia with its corruption and betrayal. Here, with the Fraternity, serving a code that actually meant something.
Natasha especially had burned her bridges. She'd never trust SHIELD again, not after discovering how thoroughly they'd deceived her. And she'd made it clear through body language and tone, she wasn't asking if Smith had ulterior motives for helping her destroy the Red Room. She'd decided it didn't matter. The Fraternity's actions aligned with justice regardless of underlying calculations.
Smith smiled. All his effort, the investigation, the rescue, the assault, had paid off perfectly. She'd sworn loyalty without him even needing to ask.
"I accept your allegiance. Welcome to the Fraternity."
Across the continent in Malibu, Tony Stark stood in his workshop wearing casual clothes, staring at his Mark III armor. Bullet holes and scorch marks covered the red and gold plating, evidence of Gulmira, evidence of his confrontation with Air Force jets, evidence that his armor worked but needed refinement.
Pepper had seen the damage, argued with him about recklessness and responsibility, then stormed out. Tony barely noticed. His mind was already on improvements, on upgrades, on the next iteration.
"Jarvis, repair timeline for the armor?"
"Approximately two hours for structural integrity restoration and paint refinement, sir."
"Get started. And Jarvis? Start design specs for Mark IV. I have ideas."
But before diving into engineering, Tony had other priorities. He needed to inform Smith about Yinsen, about the doctor's death, about the vengeance Tony had taken. And more interestingly, he wanted to test the Mark III against someone with actual superhuman capabilities.
Fighting terrorists was one thing. But how would his armor perform against someone who could genuinely challenge it?
Tony grabbed his phone and dialed Smith's number.
The call connected after two rings.
"Hey, Smith Doyle!"
"Hey, Tony Stark!"
"Remember how I said we should test my new armor against your abilities? What about tonight?" Tony's enthusiasm bled through clearly. "Skip the desert this time, we can use the area around my villa. Ocean on one side, mountains on the other, minimal civilian presence. Perfect testing ground."
Smith's interest sparked immediately. And conveniently, he needed to take Bulma somewhere interesting. Watching Tony Stark and his armor in action definitely qualified.
"Sure, I'll head over shortly. And Tony? I'm bringing a friend. Hope that's not a problem."
"The more the merrier. See you soon."
Tony ended the call, adrenaline already building. Tonight was going to be interesting.
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