Chapter 65 America Under Total Lockdown—Reborn from the Ashes!

Washington, D.C.

The vast plaza surrounding the Washington Monument had lost all its usual activity. Tourists and local residents had disappeared entirely.

Police cordons had been established throughout the area.

Heavily armed soldiers, police officers, and private security personnel stood guard everywhere.

Barricades and military armored vehicles had transformed the heart of the federal government into an iron fortress.

Beneath the gloomy sky, a light drizzle began to fall.

It soon became a torrential downpour.

The American flag hanging before the monument no longer fluttered, its fabric soaked by the rain.

“This is FCN Morning News. I’m your host, Hannah, bringing you today’s headlines.”

“Since the Black Thursday incident, large-scale outbreaks have been reported across more than eight states, including Pennsylvania, New Jersey, Colorado, and New York.”

“The influenza epidemic has now swept across the entire country.”

“According to a medical research team from Empire State University, the pathogen attacks the central nervous system. Infected patients are prone to entering states of extreme aggression and attacking everyone around them.”

“Yesterday, severe protests and riots erupted in Los Santos, Manhattan, Las Vegas, New Chicago, and several other regions.”

“Supermarkets in many major cities are suffering supply shortages, while logistics networks across the country have temporarily collapsed.”

“Twenty-four cities—including Los Santos, New York City, Raccoon City, and New Chicago—have declared states of emergency and imposed martial law.”

“The president will deliver an important national address in one hour.”

“The Coast Guard has established strict control over both the eastern and western coasts.”

“The Department of Transportation has announced that domestic air travel, rail services, and maritime transportation will be temporarily suspended.”

“I’m Hannah. We will now bring you a detailed report…”

“May God bless America.”

The television was switched off.

President Adam Benford frowned deeply and lowered the remote control.

His expression remained impassive as he looked at the assembled senior government officials.

The president tapped the two-hundred-year-old oak desk before him and swept his piercing gaze across the room.

His hair already white, Adam Benford spoke in a low voice.

“Gentlemen, our nation has reached its most critical moment.”

“You all usually have so much to say—the military, the health authorities, the intelligence agencies, and the distinguished members of Congress.”

“Yet now, none of you has a solution?”

The impeccably dressed officials had no answer.

One after another, they lowered their gazes and remained silent.

The oppressive meeting continued until a secretary cautiously approached the president and whispered into his ear.

“Mr. President, four-star General Shepherd has just arrived aboard a military aircraft.”

“General Shepherd? Why isn’t he at the Pentagon overseeing the situation? What is he doing here?”

Adam Benford considered the matter briefly.

“Let him in.”

A short while later, a white-haired but upright old general entered, accompanied by two adjutants.

He looked every bit the stereotypical veteran from the American heartland.

The moment he arrived, General Shepherd went straight to the point.

“Mr. President, the United States has reached its most dangerous hour. We cannot afford to hesitate any longer.”

“It’s time to strike decisively.”

“You need to sign Directive 51.”

Adam Benford frowned and hesitated.

“Blackwatch and the Marine Corps both claim they can control the situation.”

General Shepherd scoffed contemptuously.

“If they could control it, we wouldn’t be facing this disaster.”

“If we fail to stop the infection from spreading, the United States will become an international pariah and be isolated by the rest of the world.”

“I don’t believe you want to see what will happen if this country loses access to the global supply chain, Mr. President.”

As one of the country’s genuinely powerful four-star generals, Shepherd placed a document before Adam Benford.

“Do not hesitate any longer, Mr. President.”

He then leaned closer and lowered his voice.

“The Strategic Homeland Division has given me its assurance. It can bring the situation under control within three days.”

“Stark Industries and several other major corporations have also agreed to support the Division.”

“All right. You’ve convinced me.”

“Give me the document.”

Adam Benford accepted it, signed his name, and affixed the presidential seal.

“You won’t regret this decision.”

“Commander Ethan has confirmed that the Foundation will intervene on every front. You can rest easy, Mr. President.”

Adam Benford sighed.

“I certainly hope so.”

What President Benford didn’t know was that Ethan had arranged a meeting with General Shepherd through Tony Stark the previous day.

Tony’s technological genius was naturally his greatest asset.

However, Stark Industries and the enormous network of connections Howard Stark had left his son were nearly as valuable.

Influence wasn’t built through force alone. Relationships and favors mattered just as much.

Without those connections, Tony could never have become one of the Avengers’ leaders.

Stark Industries had been one of America’s leading defense contractors for decades and remained an indispensable part of the military-industrial complex.

A president could remain in office for no more than eight years.

Someone who controlled Stark Industries, however, could remain one of the country’s uncrowned rulers for life.

Without an introduction from Stark Industries, arranging a meeting with General Shepherd would have been considerably more difficult.

After some persuasion from the Foundation, Shepherd had naturally chosen to stand on its side.

Tony agreed to transfer the technology behind the Mark I armor to Colonel James Rhodes.

In return, the Foundation and the Strategic Homeland Division would deepen their cooperation with the military.

After further discussions, a dedicated fund of $500 million also appeared in General Shepherd’s private account.

At the same time, the Strategic Homeland Division promised to establish a $100 billion procurement program for the country’s major defense corporations.

As a highly principled man, General Shepherd initially rejected these proposals with righteous indignation.

However, the $500 million was supposedly intended to support military veterans.

The $100 billion procurement program would also benefit the national defense industry. In addition, Stark Industries and the Foundation planned to jointly fund a new defense enterprise in cooperation with the military.

Two retired generals from the United States Special Operations Command would receive important positions as military advisers at a defense company established under the Foundation.

Every term benefited both Shepherd and the country he loved.

Deeply moved by the patriotic conduct of the Foundation and Stark Industries, General Shepherd ultimately found it perfectly reasonable to accept their request—and the gifts accompanying their cooperation.

After President Adam Benford signed Directive 51, he and General Shepherd exchanged a cordial handshake.

The document was immediately transmitted through Capitol Hill and entered into force.

Five minutes later, an official vehicle arrived at the Strategic Homeland Division’s headquarters in Washington.

Two senior Division agents hurried into the central command center.

“Directive 51 has been officially issued!”

“Transmit the activation order through the Strategic Security Administration’s central server to every terminal in the country!”

“Authorization code: I851.CQ633.QL320!”

“Authorization status: Green!”

“Begin activation!”

During peacetime, the Strategic Homeland Division maintained only the minimum level of operations.

Even the position of Division director remained vacant.

Once Directive 51 was activated, however, Ethan—who possessed the Division’s highest clearance—would automatically assume the position of director.

At Foundation Headquarters, Ethan suddenly raised his right hand.

The watch around his wrist lit up, displaying the dazzling identification code 001.

Yukikaze, who had already taken control of the Foundation’s entire network, spoke.

“Commander, I have detected a special signal.”

“It appears I can use your watch to activate and assume control of the Strategic Homeland Division’s AI system.”

“Would you like me to proceed?”

Ethan answered without hesitation.

“Activate it.”

“Understood. Please wait.”

“I will use one of my subprograms to assume control of the Strategic Homeland Division’s network and serve as its central AI.”

A moment later, an emotionless version of Yukikaze’s voice sounded.

“The Strategic Homeland Division’s central system has been activated.”

“Commander, your identity code has been confirmed as S01.”

“Under Directive 51, Division Agent S01 will automatically assume command of the Strategic Homeland Division and take office as its director.”

“Welcome back, Director.”

As Yukikaze’s subprogram spoke, an enormous holographic display appeared before Ethan.

It showed a complete map of the United States.

“Under established protocols, the nation has entered a state of total lockdown.”

“Director, do you wish to activate every Strategic Homeland Division agent currently located within the United States?”

Ethan examined the authorization prompt.

Smiling, he pressed his thumb against the fingerprint reader on his watch.

“Activate.”

“Authorization code: I851.CQ633.QL320.”

“Authorization confirmed.”

“Directive 51 is now officially in effect.”

“Project Phoenix has been activated.”

“Awakening sequence initiated.”

“All sleeper agents will be awakened.”

Once Yukikaze’s subprogram accepted the activation code, an orange light symbolizing a phoenix’s rebirth burst into existence.

Across the country, the previously dark watches worn by Strategic Homeland Division agents began glowing with flame-like orange light.

A single point illuminated the enormous holographic map before Ethan.

Then came a second.

A third.

Ten.

A hundred.

Thousands upon thousands.

The lights spread across the map like sparks igniting a prairie fire.

Once every point had appeared, the countless lights formed an enormous phoenix across the map of the United States—a symbol of rebirth through flame.

A satisfied expression appeared on Ethan’s face.

Ophelia and her adjutant, Leah, had arrived to say goodbye just in time to witness the entire process.

Both women stared at the display in astonishment.

Ophelia finally understood why the Strategic Homeland Division had always seemed nonexistent, allowing the Chaos Insurgency to expand and dominate without opposition.

The Strategic Homeland Division had been dormant.

Unless its sleepers were awakened and its ash-gray phoenix underwent rebirth, no one would ever discover its true existence.

Most people would simply assume it was an organization on roughly the same level as the FBI.

Ophelia had already learned this secret and believed herself prepared.

Yet the sight of sleeper agents spread across the entire country still left her profoundly shaken.

So many agents…

The sheer scale of the undertaking was almost impossible to comprehend.

Only now did Ophelia and her young adjutant understand why the Chaos Insurgency’s original leader had repeatedly warned them that the Strategic Homeland Division was an organization capable of rivaling their own.

After that world-traveling leader died, however, the surviving members had stopped taking the warning seriously.

They regarded the Division as little more than an irrelevant legend.

Even Ophelia, despite her extended lifespan, had never witnessed the Strategic Homeland Division’s true form.

Today, she finally understood what a terrifying organization it was.

As she looked at the unfathomable Ethan, his stature seemed to rise to unimaginable heights in her mind.

The Strategic Homeland Division was only one component of his vast plan.

Yet that single component already resembled a mountain reaching into the heavens.

After recovering from her shock, Ophelia was overcome with delight.

As long as she remained the commander’s closest partner, the stronger the Foundation became, the further she could lead the Chaos Insurgency.

She might even reach heights that had previously been completely beyond her grasp.

The thought made Ophelia want to remain beside Ethan for several more months before leaving.

However, she still had a mission to complete.

She gave him a lingering, watery-eyed look before reporting sweetly, “Commander, our preparations are complete. We can depart at any time.”

Ethan looked up at the bewitching woman.

This was no time to indulge in Madame Ophelia’s charms.

He walked to the nearby wine cabinet, retrieved a bottle of Romanée-Conti, and poured three glasses.

Raising his own, he offered a toast.

“To your immediate victory.”

“The Foundation is about to begin operations on every front.”

Ophelia drained her wine.

Her cheeks flushed as she wrapped her arms tightly around Ethan and whispered into his ear.

“Then wait for good news from me, Commander.”

After seeing Ophelia off, Ethan took out his heavily modified Foundation service pistol and idly turned it over in his hand.

His voice was quiet.

“It’s our turn.”