Chapter 907

Clang! Crash!

Nick Fury’s head was still spinning from the initial collision when two more police cruisers slammed into his vehicle, one from the front and the other from behind.

His car was now sandwiched between them, leaving him completely trapped.

Before he could recover, a black armored van marked with the letters SWAT pulled up nearby. More than a dozen armed men in black tactical gear poured out. The uniformed officers already surrounding Fury’s vehicle raised their weapons alongside them.

Then they opened fire.

Bullets hammered into Fury’s car from every direction.

Fortunately, the director’s personal vehicle was built to withstand considerably more punishment than an ordinary automobile. Hundreds of rounds struck its exterior at close range, leaving little more than white marks across the bodywork. The windows cracked under the barrage, but the reinforced glass held.

Inside, Fury slowly regained his senses.

The first collision had struck directly against the driver’s side. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth, his face was already swelling, and one of his arms was probably broken.

He’d managed to inject himself with a painkiller, but that didn’t make the situation any less unpleasant.

He hurriedly shifted into the passenger seat.

"Congressional police forces are not deployed in this area."

The vehicle’s onboard computer helpfully informed him that the men outside were impersonating law enforcement officers.

No kidding.

Real police officers didn’t usually open fire without issuing a warning first.

Although, considering his skin color, Fury couldn’t completely rule out the possibility of an overzealous traffic stop.

Still, this was Washington, D.C. The nation’s capital. Even the most brazen officers would hopefully think twice before behaving like this in broad daylight.

Besides, the weapons these men were carrying were hardly standard police equipment. Submachine guns and assault rifles weren’t exactly what Fury expected to see in an ordinary traffic stop.

Outside, the attackers quickly realized that conventional gunfire wasn’t getting them anywhere.

They switched tactics.

Four men climbed out of the armored van carrying an enormous mechanical breaching device. It was a thick, dark piece of machinery that looked more like industrial construction equipment than anything designed for law enforcement.

They positioned it beside Fury’s vehicle and unfolded its four supporting legs.

The supports drove directly into the pavement, anchoring the machine firmly in place.

Fury’s eye widened.

"Get me out of here!"

"Vehicle propulsion system offline."

"Then restart it! Motherfucker!"

A heavy metallic thunk rang out.

The breaching device activated its electromagnetic launching mechanism, driving its massive piston into the reinforced window with the force of a pile driver.

The impact was tremendous.

Both wheels on one side of Fury’s car lifted off the ground. The entire vehicle rocked violently, nearly overturning.

Yet the reinforced glass held.

Fury stared at the enormous dent forming in the window.

Holy hell.

Thank goodness he’d recently upgraded the vehicle’s security systems. More importantly, he’d personally insisted that the bulletproof glass be manufactured in China.

Otherwise, that first strike would probably have turned him into roadkill.

"Window integrity: thirty-one percent. Defensive action recommended."

The onboard computer issued another warning.

Even the finest reinforced glass had its limits.

Fury, however, remained surprisingly composed.

"Hold."

The machine struck again.

"Window integrity: nineteen percent. Defensive action recommended."

"Wait!"

The attackers were practically standing on his doorstep, and Fury was still telling the computer to hold its fire.

One more impact.

CRACK!

"Window integrity: one percent."

"NOW!"

The space between the driver’s and passenger seats suddenly opened.

A four-barreled machine gun rose from a concealed compartment.

Fury seized the controls and unleashed a devastating counterattack.

The attackers hadn’t expected the vehicle to fight back. Bullets tore through their ranks before they could react, sending several men tumbling to the ground.

But Fury wasn’t finished.

"Eat this! Triple-barreled grenade launchers!"

He activated the vehicle’s grenade system.

Explosions erupted across the surrounding area, destroying several of the attackers’ vehicles and scattering the remaining gunmen.

The fake police officers scrambled for cover.

At almost the same moment, the vehicle’s propulsion system finally completed its restart sequence.

Automatic driving engaged, and Fury’s car lurched forward, forcing its way out of the ambush.

"Activate vertical flight mode!"

"Flight system damaged."

Motherfucker!

He shouldn’t have tried to save money on maintenance. If he’d insisted on having the flight system properly reinforced, he wouldn’t be dealing with this nonsense.

"Activate communications. I need to contact Agent Hill."

"Communications antenna damaged."

Fury stared at the dashboard.

"Is there anything on this damn car that still works?!"

If he survived this, someone in the logistics department was going to have a very unpleasant conversation with him.

"Climate control system operating normally."

Wonderful.

From now on, nobody was allowed to tell him American manufacturing was the gold standard of engineering.

And before anyone complained, the air conditioner was also Made in China.

The attackers weren’t finished, either.

Several vehicles pulled away from the wreckage and began pursuing Fury through the streets.

A high-speed gunfight erupted.

Fortunately, Fury was an experienced driver. Years of fieldwork had taught him how to handle a vehicle under pressure, and he managed to weave through the pursuing cars, narrowly avoiding their attempts to box him in.

For the moment, he managed to shake them.

But one question continued bothering him.

Who had ordered the assassination?

He’d only just begun investigating the problems with the Insight Initiative, and someone had immediately tried to kill him.

That narrowed the possibilities considerably.

Either Umbrella was responsible, or HYDRA’s operatives inside S.H.I.E.L.D. had decided to eliminate him.

Fury leaned toward the latter.

The attackers’ tactical movements looked familiar.

He’d worked his way up through S.H.I.E.L.D. from the ground level. He knew its field operatives, their training methods, and the combat doctrines used by its various strike teams.

Some of the techniques these men employed were unmistakably S.H.I.E.L.D.’s.

A few had even been developed or standardized under his own authority.

It was a particularly unpleasant experience to recognize your own training doctrine being used to kill you.

There was another consideration.

Umbrella was famous for its biotechnology. If its people were behind the attack, Fury would have expected at least one enhanced operative among them.

Instead, these attackers appeared to be ordinary human soldiers with excellent equipment and careful planning.

That made HYDRA the more likely culprit.

Unfortunately, Fury had barely finished that thought when he noticed a figure standing directly ahead.

The man raised his arm.

A magnetic mine shot toward Fury’s vehicle and attached itself to the underside.

BOOM!

The explosion flipped the car completely over.

Fury’s vehicle crashed onto its roof and slid across the road.

The man approached through the smoke.

He had long, disheveled hair, a black face covering, and tactical goggles. His physique was extraordinarily powerful, with muscles that looked capable of tearing through steel.

But what immediately drew attention was his left arm.

It was made of metal.

The stranger reached the overturned vehicle and grabbed the driver’s door with his metallic hand.

With a single violent motion, he ripped it clean off.

Then he looked inside.

Empty.

Fury was gone.

The man leaned forward, examining the interior.

At some point during the chaos, the director had used a laser cutter to carve an escape tunnel through the vehicle’s floor and crawled out beneath the wreckage.

A remarkably fast escape.

Like a black rabbit disappearing down its burrow.

A gun battle of this scale in Washington, D.C. was never going to remain a secret.

Even if the official media tried to suppress the story, people had already begun uploading videos to YouTube and social media.

Self-recorded footage spread rapidly.

Nobody knew exactly who the two sides were, but the footage was everywhere.

Thousands of kilometers away in New York, Evenson was casually browsing YouTube when he stumbled across several clips of the incident.

For some reason, they had all ended up in the site’s comedy and remix section.

Evenson watched one of the videos for a moment before sighing.

"So it begins."

He set down his phone, his expression turning serious.

"The rest is up to me, Nick."

He gave the uploader a like and a few other forms of appreciation before putting the phone to his ear.

"Get the board together."

He was calling the Eredar Twins.

"Now? That’s convenient."

Saloras glanced toward the conference table as she spoke.

Umbrella Corporation’s major shareholders were already assembled in the meeting room, waiting for the scheduled presentation.

Elizabeth Morgan.

Zolar Rockefeller.

And Moore DuPont.

All three were junior members of their respective financial dynasties, but their positions within their families had improved considerably following the success of their previous investments.

Their returns had been impressive enough to earn them greater influence.

They had also reported the Eredar Twins’ larger ambitions to their respective family heads.

Initially, the patriarchs had been skeptical.

The proposed plan sounded almost too ambitious to be realistic.

But it was interesting enough to warrant further consideration.

Besides, the project was divided into stages. There was no reason they couldn’t invest a relatively small amount first and see how things developed.

That was why they had gathered today.

The Eredar Twins had promised to provide preliminary proof of both their larger ambitions and Umbrella’s technological capabilities.

They would also demonstrate that their investors had made the right decision.

Today, Umbrella was launching a satellite.

The Eredar Twins had previously explained that the first stage of the company’s space expansion program involved independently launching an advanced satellite.

Its technological capabilities would surpass those of most American military satellites.

Umbrella would then lease access to the satellite to the United States government.

If they could accomplish that, it would provide undeniable evidence of the company’s superiority in aerospace technology.

Under normal circumstances, however, the satellite wouldn’t have been ready for launch for several more months.

The twins had other ideas.

They believed that launching it now, at this particular moment, would be far more valuable.

Unfortunately, advancing the schedule meant several preparations had to be skipped or handled through alternative arrangements.

Originally, Umbrella had intended to build its own launch facilities and manufacture its own launch vehicles.

There hadn’t been enough time for either.

Instead, they had rented a launch site and purchased an existing rocket.

In other words, the only thing they’d actually manufactured themselves was the satellite.

And as for the satellite’s construction...

Well, let’s just say its total material cost had been approximately two hundred thousand dollars.

The rest was left to the imagination.

"Ladies and gentlemen."

Orriseth stood before the assembled shareholders, her expression perfectly calm.

It was as though the proceedings were nothing more than a routine business presentation.

"Today, you’ll have the opportunity to witness the technological capabilities of our company firsthand. In approximately ten minutes, the Far-Sight Satellite will be launched into orbit."

"Is that so? I can hardly wait."

Elizabeth Morgan smiled.

However, her nervousness was obvious.

If the satellite launch failed, the entire project would be in serious trouble. Her recently improved standing within the Morgan family could disappear just as quickly as it had risen.

She had invested a great deal in this venture.

A failure today would be disastrous.

Incidentally, she hadn’t brought her close friend Pepper this time.

At the previous meeting, Pepper had expressed interest in joining the project. However, she’d wanted to contribute technology in exchange for equity.

The problem was that the technology she intended to contribute belonged to Tony Stark.

And, unfortunately, Pepper and Tony had recently fallen into a period of cold war for reasons that weren’t particularly relevant to the meeting.

Their disagreements had put the proposal on hold.

Fortunately, Pepper wasn’t here today.

If she had been, things might have become considerably more complicated.

"There’s no need to be nervous."

Saloras offered Elizabeth a reassuring smile.

"You should have confidence in our company’s technology. Compared with what we’re capable of, launching a satellite is practically child’s play. There is no realistic possibility of failure."

"Well... that’s reassuring."

The other shareholders exchanged awkward smiles.

Nobody looked particularly reassured.

Ten minutes passed.

The launch-site feed appeared on the conference room’s enormous display.

The rocket engines ignited.

Flames erupted beneath the launch vehicle as it rose into the sky, climbing higher and higher until it became a tiny point of light.

The shareholders watched in silence.

Their hearts seemed to rise alongside it.

"Far-Sight Satellite has cleared the atmosphere."

A moment later, another announcement followed.

"Far-Sight Satellite has reached its designated orbit. Establishing connection..."

The room waited.

And waited.

The screen remained completely black.

The shareholders’ expressions slowly changed.

Their stomachs sank.

Had the entire thing really failed?

"Relax."

Orriseth casually waved a hand.

"The initial startup sequence naturally takes a little longer. This is perfectly normal."

"Is it?"

Elizabeth’s voice trembled.

Of course, the screen was black.

There was nothing inside the satellite.

The Far-Sight Satellite was, quite literally, a hollow metal box.

But that was where the real trick began.

Inside the empty shell, purple magical circles suddenly illuminated the inner walls.

Arcane light pulsed through the structure.

Then something appeared.

A large, spherical eyeball, floating inside the satellite.

It was Dester, the Beholder from the Fel Rift.

The enormous creature slowly adjusted its position until its central eye faced the observation window built into the satellite.

Several cables extended toward it, wrapping around its body like mechanical tentacles.

This was also the fulfillment of Evenson’s agreement with Dester.

The Beholder loved watching things.

So Evenson had arranged the perfect job for him.

A place high above the world, with an unobstructed view of practically everything.

From now on, Dester wouldn’t need to do anything except sit in orbit and watch.

And Evenson wouldn’t need to spend a fortune manufacturing an actual satellite camera system.

It was an excellent example of resource management.

Never waste a perfectly good demon.

Billions of people.

Billions of possible viewpoints.

Dester’s enormous eye nearly bulged from its socket.

For a creature whose entire existence revolved around observation, the opportunity was almost overwhelming.

The view was magnificent.

He trembled with excitement.

Finally, the connection stabilized.

The display flickered.

An image appeared.

The shareholders collectively released the breath they’d been holding.

At least the thing worked.

They could worry about the technical details later.

"Well..."

Moore DuPont rose from his chair, still breathing heavily.

"Could I try controlling the satellite’s viewing angle?"

"Of course."

The twins immediately understood what he wanted.

He intended to test the satellite’s reconnaissance capabilities.

There was no reason to refuse.

Under their guidance, Moore accessed the control system and selected an area for closer observation.

The results were extraordinary.

Dester’s abilities as a Beholder were exceptional. Observation was practically his entire reason for existing.

Even from orbit, he could see the streets below with astonishing clarity.

People walking along the sidewalks appeared in remarkable detail.

Their faces were visible.

Even their expressions could be distinguished.

The image was so clear that Moore suddenly recognized someone.

"My wife..."

Everyone turned toward him.

Moore continued staring at the screen.

"My wife..."

His voice grew quieter.

"She’s walking into a motel with my personal trainer."

He swallowed.

"And they’re going into the same room."

The room fell silent.

Elizabeth and Zolar’s expressions became decidedly uncomfortable.

This was...

Awkward.

The Eredar Twins immediately seized control of the satellite interface and changed the viewing angle.

Any longer, and the shareholders might have been treated to footage that required a parental advisory.

Well, the customer had asked to test the satellite’s capabilities.

The satellite had delivered.

Only a demon could turn a business demonstration into a marital disaster.

Still, Moore should consider himself lucky.

How many people could afford to catch their spouses cheating with an orbital surveillance system?

Not even the President probably enjoyed that particular privilege.

"Come on, buddy. Don’t take it too hard."

Zolar Rockefeller patted Moore on the shoulder.

He and Moore had been friends for years, and he was clearly enjoying the situation far more than he should have been.

"Things happen."

"How am I supposed to take this?!"

Moore exploded.

"That woman! That damn woman!"

His voice cracked.

"She actually... she actually..."

He struggled to get the words out.

"She seduced my Jack! I’ll never forgive her!"

Zolar’s hand immediately withdrew.

He even wiped it against his clothes.

Oh, dear God.

They’d known each other for years, and he’d never realized...

He was never touching that man again.

Moore glared at him.

"What? Why are you looking at me like that? What century are we living in?"