"Rhodey, to be honest, I really think the military should rethink its whole structure. You guys never seem to have any clue when a crisis is about to hit.
Still, these two Happy Hummers really lived up to their name today—at least we made it out in one piece."
"Tony, those red-clad ninjas from the Hand are still on our tail. Can you take a break from being such a smartass for a second?"
The last remaining Hand ninjas tore through Manhattan's streets, chasing after them in two stolen Hummers. Luckily, neither of the vehicles the Hand had hijacked nor Tony's "Happy Hummer" had any weaponry onboard.
The Hand's ninjas weren't interested in anyone else. Once they split off from Tony, most of the other people had managed to avoid being targeted at all.
"Right turn, onto Kastor Avenue—head east."
"East? But the nearest base is west, and reinforcements are coming from that way."
"My villa's to the east. We're going east."
Their bickering didn't go anywhere, and the soldier at the wheel just kept his hands locked on the steering wheel, nerves taut—right now, it wasn't about east or west, just wherever there was a road, that's where they went.
Meanwhile, one of the Hand ninjas chasing them had already popped up from the sunroof, automatic rifle in hand. The Hand usually favored close-quarters weapons, but when modern firepower was called for, they didn't hesitate.
Just as he aimed at Tony's Hummer, the asphalt beneath their vehicle suddenly split open.
A massive hand burst up from the concrete, grabbing the Hummer's rear axle at full speed. Sparks flew as the metal scraped violently against Jekyll's arm.
The Hand ninja was thrown clear by inertia, slamming straight into the trunk of some poor bystander's car.
Jekyll hauled himself up from the ground, scanned the scene, but decided not to activate his bio-laser. He ripped the Hummer apart with ease, yanked out the Hand ninja, and, before the man could even fight back, crushed his skull—just as the last Hummer chasing Tony whipped around several corners and disappeared.
In Jekyll's senses, the last Hand ninja had already been reduced to ashes. The carapace on his back snapped open.
Three pairs of gigantic elytra unfurled with a roar like a fleet of helicopters spinning up, making everyone in the area drop to the ground and clap their hands over their ears. As Jekyll took off, he locked onto his target and began weaving through the canyons of Manhattan's skyscrapers.
"Rhodey, we lost one pursuer. Is that your backup finally showing up?"
"They're still en route. Hold on—Tony, do you hear that?"
Tony had been pondering what Rhodey meant, but quickly heard it too—a sound both familiar and bizarre.
"Rhodey, are your people still flying prop planes for backup?"
"You've got to be kidding me. We use those Stingrays you sold us a couple years back."
"Then why do I hear propellers? Wait—no, that's not right. It's something else…"
It wasn't a helicopter at all—it was the sound of Jekyll's reinforced wings powering up. Those three pairs of elytra generated as much thrust as a chopper and then some—but that was far from his limit.
Catching a Hummer on Manhattan's surface streets? Child's play.
His compound eyes locked onto the last Hand ninja. The bio-laser in his arm started to charge. A searing beam cut out, hitting the pursuing Hummer dead-on. The fuel tank detonated, launching the vehicle sky-high and obliterating the Hand ninja inside.
Two blades flew out from the wreckage and landed sticking out of a nearby GG sign, marking the utter failure of this Hand assassination attempt.
With the last of the Hand dealt with, Jekyll's wings whirred as he left the scene. All that was left was a bunch of dumbfounded New Yorkers, and Tony and Rhodey in their car, staring after Jekyll as he vanished into the sky.
"What the hell was that? One of your new toys?"
"I told you, I'm done with the weapons business. I figured you guys would know better than me—Osborn is your second-biggest supplier, and Strucker's always had a thing for their biotech, right?"
"I'd rather not get into it. Until backup gets here, we're better off staying put."
"Maybe this Hummer's lucky, but sorry, I've got a better ride."
Just then, Tony's head of security showed up with his personal vehicle—its protection was miles beyond anything the "Happy Hummer" could offer.
Tony took a quick look around, then hurried over, rolled under his car, and opened the door, giving Rhodey a look.
"You coming with me?"
"Nah, I think I'll stick it out here."
It was another thirty minutes before backup finally made it to Tony Stark's private villa. When they arrived, they found Tony Stark dead drunk and James Rhodes talking nonsense, surrounded by empty bottles.
Looked like someone was in for it now.
"I warned Colonel Rhodes," said the surviving driver, holding an unopened bottle of Tony's champagne. His buddy eyed the bottle, then him.
"Share the wealth," his partner muttered.
Clearly, nothing in Tony's wine cellar came cheap.
Now, the military had the villa on lockdown again. Considering how badly this debacle had embarrassed New York's entire security apparatus, it was only a matter of time before an official investigation dropped.
——
"Marine reinforcements were delayed for a full twenty minutes, and our guys happened to hit trouble right then—a bunch of aggressive lizardmen intercepted them, same ones who slipped through the cracks last time.
The tactical response squad got bogged down with the lizardmen, and the other teams all just happened to be tied up today."
Fury sat in his director's office, staring at Hill's face. She was used to his sour mug by now, calmly reporting on the situation.
"The Army's never liked Stark Industries. They've always been tighter with Osborn, and on the Marine side, someone called off Rhodes's reinforcements. We're still investigating. As for our own people…"
A mission roster appeared on the big screen in Fury's office.
"All this was scheduled in advance—regional peacekeeping, counterterrorism drills, the usual. Nothing out of the ordinary. The lizardmen were already on the radar—you signed off on the reports two days ago."
This whole string of events left Fury with a bad feeling. Everything fit together almost too neatly, which made it all the more suspicious.
But paranoia wouldn't solve anything, and there was no evidence anyone in SHIELD was actively sabotaging them. Fury just told Hill to assemble two new tactical teams in case anything else cropped up.
"Recruiting more people needs council approval. They don't want us getting too big or too heavily armed, Director."
"I'll deal with the council with Pierce. Hill, just get the personnel proposals together. And the frozen guy—how's that going?"
"We're working on a safe way to thaw him. We've brought in some specialists, but it'll take time."
"Safety first. He's important, not just to us, but to the whole country."
"Understood. So, how do we handle this? The council and the government both want answers about that thing. I doubt we can keep a lid on it. The special ops division is pressing us, too. Frankly, those two issues are way more important than Tony Stark getting ambushed by a bunch of ninjas at his own press conference."
Hill hit a button, and the screen filled with footage of a blinding violet thunderstorm, the kind that maxed out every camera sensor.
"A mutant, most likely caught up in the crossfire."
"You think so? Either way, that mutant is worth watching. But everyone's focus is on this guy."
She pointed to a video still of Jekyll.
"They all want to know if you dug up some super-soldier weapon from a WWII bunker—why you've been hiding it, why you never said a word, and why you only brought it out after Tony Stark got attacked. The military's already putting up offers. You'd better explain things to Secretary Pierce and the others yourself. This bug-man is way more interesting to them than Connors's lizard incident ever was."
With that, Hill left Fury's office. The last few days had been one crazy thing after another, each reminding Fury of things he hadn't thought about in years.
He glanced at the video of the violet lightning, then shifted his focus back to the Hand ninjas and Jekyll, collecting his thoughts before putting both matters aside for now.
He pulled out his special phone and dialed a secure line.
"Brrring~"
"Hello?"
"Romanoff, I have a new mission for you."
"Fury? Give me a couple of minutes, I'm tied up."
"You've got three."
——
Lynn arrived back at his little house in the Ebonywood neighborhood. Jessica wasn't home yet—school was still in session. It took him a while to get back, but even though his mutant powers had been revealed to the public by the Hand, he was fine with it.
After all, that was just a part of his abilities. Lynn wasn't worried—no one could possibly connect him to Jekyll after that performance. He'd played it perfectly.
Of course, being outed as a mutant wasn't all good news. In this world, plenty of people held pure hatred for mutants. It hadn't exploded yet, but it was only a matter of time, and Lynn knew there'd be no shortage of trouble.
Now that he'd shown some of his abilities, he wouldn't be surprised if people came looking for him soon.
"Things are about to get tricky… Running a double life isn't as easy as it looks, especially with all this going on."
Ding-dong~~
"Your delivery."
"…"
Lynn was sure he hadn't ordered anything. Still, he sensed no energy outside the door—nothing out of the ordinary.
Ding-dong~~
The doorbell rang again. In the end, Lynn just opened the door. No sense dodging trouble that was bound to find him. If someone was sending him things, it meant he was already on someone's radar.
"Let's see who it is."
The courier was all smiles at Lynn opening the door—he could finally move on to his next stop. If this package didn't need the recipient's signature, he'd already be gone.
"Here's your letter, Mr. Sidis."
"Thanks. Who's it from?"
Lynn took the letter. The envelope felt normal, standard paper weight.
"Let me check… No sender, that's odd…"
"No problem, I'll take it. Where do I sign?"
"Here, please."
Once the courier left, Lynn opened the letter on the spot. After reading it, he immediately knew who it was from.
"Blade."
There was only one person who knew enough about him to pull this—Blade, Eric Brooks.
Lynn had no ill will toward him. Blade was tough, and Lynn could still recall his battles with the Blood God. Not that he planned to do anything to Blade—even if he knew exactly where Blade was, he wouldn't bother. Blade was a loner, quiet and withdrawn, and kept to himself.
He trusted Blade to keep his secret.
The letter had just two words. Lynn sighed, then dialed the only number in the phone Blade had given him.
"What's up?"
"You got somewhere we can talk?"
"Come to Ebonywood, number 66—the infamous haunted house in the neighborhood. You can't miss it."
"I'll see you at midnight."
Blade hung up immediately.
If Blade was seeking him out, there was only one reason—vampire trouble. If he didn't know Lynn, he'd handle it solo. But now that he did, Blade figured he had someone to talk to.
After picking Jessica up from school, Lynn stopped to grab groceries for dinner. Back at home, he cooked, watched some soaps with Jessica, and then sent her off to bed when night fell. The news was still cycling the story about Tony Stark's attack—no doubt a bombshell, and you could hear the anxiety in every report. Even Manhattan's real estate prices had dipped a little.
Time flew by. Lynn checked his phone.
Just about time.
He heard the window open, felt the presence behind him—a familiar life force.
"What's the trouble now?"
"You know the Blood Covenant?"
"Figured as much. Sit down. Let's talk."