“Ma’am, you need to leave!”

The blonde-haired beauty was impossible to reason with, so the two guards stepped forward to escort her out.

She turned, spotting the guns on their hips, and smiled again. “I like your guns.”

The guards frowned, exchanging a glance.

Which ones?

A split second later, they realized what she meant.

They tensed, hands moving to their holsters.

Then, the blonde-haired woman slowly raised her left arm.

Under the guards’ stunned gazes, her arm morphed into liquid metal, her hand reshaping into a sharp lance.

*Whoosh!*

The lance struck like lightning, skewering both guards like kebabs, punching ten-centimeter holes through their chests.

They didn’t even have time to draw their weapons. Blood sprayed from their chests as they crumpled to the ground.

The brunette woman watched, eyes wide with terror.

“AH!!!!”

Her brain froze for seconds before she screamed her lungs out.

The blonde-haired beauty’s brow twitched. She lifted a long leg and stomped on the woman’s forehead.

*Crack!*

With the sound of snapping bones, a dent formed in the brunette’s skull. Her eyes went blank as she collapsed.

The blonde-haired woman quickly stripped off the brunette’s black leather outfit and put it on.

She grabbed the guards’ guns, snatched the brunette’s car keys and phone, and slid into the Mercedes convertible, peeling out with a roar.

As the engine’s sound faded, a jewelry store clerk peeked out, trembling, and dialed 911.

The Mercedes ignored traffic lights, tearing the road like a bat out of hell.

Her driving was flawless, speeding at 100 kilometers per hour without so much as a scratch.

But her reckless driving scared the shit out of other drivers.

The car was too fast, though, leaving them honking angrily at her taillights.

The blonde-haired woman drove with one hand, using the other to connect the phone to the internet. One finger morphed into a thin needle, jabbing into the phone’s internals.

A spark of electricity shot from the needle, hijacking the phone completely, bypassing all restrictions and maxing out its performance.

She used the networked phone to search for Jason Walter’s location.

Jason was making waves today—every news outlet and social platform was buzzing with his name.

Seconds later, she pinpointed his exact location, cranked the wheel, and sped toward Times Square.

…

Washington, D.C., Triskelion HQ, Director’s Office.

Nick Fury set down his phone, head throbbing.

The Joker Organization case fell under S.H.I.E.L.D.’s jurisdiction, and his phone was blowing up.

Police chiefs, governors, senators, FBI, CIA—every government and law enforcement agency was hounding him, demanding solutions to this shitstorm.

Fury looked up. The long conference table was packed with people.

These were S.H.I.E.L.D. Level 7 agents, his trusted inner circle.

The office was deathly quiet, the atmosphere heavy as fuck.

They never imagined Clint would get nabbed by the Joker Organization and tortured beyond recognition.

Even less did they expect the Joker Organization to be so batshit insane as to stage a live broadcast at Times Square, New York’s fucking landmark.

Over 300 million Americans, plus countless overseas viewers, watched the feed.

This was too big. One wrong move, and S.H.I.E.L.D. would face punishment from top to bottom.

The thought weighed on them like a goddamn boulder.

After a long silence, Fury spoke. “Alright, let’s hear it. What’s your take on this? Speak freely.”

Someone jumped in immediately. “No take, but we can’t pay that money. I say we send multiple armed choppers to hit Jason from a distance.”

“Exactly! Even if we can’t kill him, we drive him out. S.H.I.E.L.D. and the government can’t be jerked around by a terrorist group.”

“Agreed.”

“Same here.”

Seeing their comrade strung up in the square, everyone was pissed, itching to skin Jason alive. No way they’d agree to a deal.

Fury nodded. Like family, his trusted agents thought like him.

If they bowed to Jason, decades of counter-terrorism work would be for nothing, and the U.S. government’s authority would be fucked.

If global terrorist groups saw America as weak, it’d spark a surge in attacks, causing losses far beyond imagination.

“Since you all agree, start prepping. Even if it fails, we don’t surrender.”

“S.H.I.E.L.D. is the shield for the U.S. and the world. If the shield falls, the world’s done for.”

Everyone nodded in agreement.

*Knock, knock, knock.*

A knock at the door drew all eyes.

“Come in!”

Fury called, and the high-tech door unlocked automatically.

Stansfield strolled in, grinning, scanning the agents. “Having a meeting? Sorry to interrupt.”

His words were met with over twenty hostile glares.

But Stansfield stayed smug, grinning like a prick.

*Heh, I love it when you hate me but can’t do shit about it.*

Suddenly, a murderous glare hit him. Stansfield, sensitive to mental vibes, looked up.

It was a woman with short reddish-brown hair—Level 7 agent Natasha Romanoff, the Black Widow.

Since returning to S.H.I.E.L.D. HQ, Fury and Coulson had briefed her on recent events.

Besides Jason being a massive pain in the ass, the one to watch was Norman Stansfield.

Fury suspected he was Jason’s mole but lacked hard evidence. Worse, Stansfield had somehow cozyed up to Secretary Alexander, thriving in S.H.I.E.L.D.

Fury’s instincts were sharp. If he suspected Stansfield, the guy was dirty.

With her close friend Clint brutalized, Natasha’s rage had nowhere to go.

Seeing Stansfield now was like pouring gas on a fire. Her fury boiled over.

She wasn’t one to back down from torture games.

“Natasha!”

Fury’s heavy tone cut through her thoughts.

Natasha sighed. She knew now wasn’t the time to fuck someone up and turned away, fuming.

Fury looked at Stansfield. “Agent Stansfield, what’s up?”

Stansfield nodded. “Director, the Secretary wants you upstairs. The World Security Council wants your plan for this. Until they approve, S.H.I.E.L.D.’s operations are on hold.”

“A friendly heads-up: the Council’s grilling you for your recent fuck-ups. If your answers don’t satisfy them, you might be out of a job.”

Stansfield’s words dropped like a bomb, and the room exploded.

They were about to move on Jason, and now the Council was stepping in, halting everything and demanding accountability.

Fuck!

These dumbass politicians were useless at best, disastrous at worst!

“Plan’s on hold till I’m back,” Fury said, standing and heading for the elevator.

He might be Director, but S.H.I.E.L.D. wasn’t his personal playground.

The World Security Council controlled the budget, tying his hands tight.

At the Triskelion’s top floor, Secretary Alexander was in a video conference with the Council’s five members.

Advanced holographic tech projected their images clearly.

Fury walked in, and a councilor immediately spoke. “It’s been twenty minutes since the Times Square incident. With S.H.I.E.L.D.’s efficiency, you must have a plan.”

“Yes.”

Fury stood in the center, calmly laying out the agreed-upon strategy.

“What?!”

“You’re planning military action in Times Square? Are you fucking insane?!”

The U.S. councilor roared, brow furrowed.

Fury explained, “Sir, if we don’t act against the Joker Organization, are we just supposed to hand over five billion dollars? Where’s S.H.I.E.L.D.’s dignity? The U.S. government?”

The councilor scoffed. “Government dignity? Sounds like you’re just pissed. The Joker Organization caught your agent, and you’re out for revenge.”

Before Fury could retort, the councilor continued, “Why do you think Jason chose Times Square for his show? Just to show off? He’s daring you to act, knowing you can’t.”

“Times Square is New York’s—hell, America’s—calling card. There are over thirty corporate HQs and forty malls nearby. One stray missile, and the damage will dwarf five billion.”

The five councilors fired off like a machine gun, giving Fury no room to argue.

From a financial perspective, paying to end this was the cheapest option. Fury had no counter.

After their barrage, the U.S. councilor spoke. “Given your recent performance, the Council believes you’re no longer fit to lead S.H.I.E.L.D.”

Fury, expressionless, replied, “I accept the decision and nominate Level 9 agent Maria Hill as the new Director.”

“We’ll consider it. Until a suitable replacement is found, S.H.I.E.L.D. will be under the Council’s direct control. All actions require our approval.”

Fury asked, “And Jason? How’s the Council handling him?”

Alexander stepped in. “We’ve decided. First, we’ll pull five billion from S.H.I.E.L.D.’s budget as ransom to appease the Joker Organization.”

“Then, we’ll deploy surveillance satellites to monitor all cards, phones, computers—tracking every Joker Organization member closely.”

Since Fury was out, Alexander didn’t mention the rest.

The Council had greenlit his “Insight Plan.”

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Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep