Elsewhere-
At the Continental Hotel-
With Minato gone, Natasha took out the business card given to her by the cab driver and read the name on it—Daniel.
She dialed the number and said, "Daniel, are you available for a pickup?"
"Take me back to where you dropped me off."
Hearing the familiar voice, Daniel chuckled and replied, "Of course, I wasn't too far away. I'll be at the entrance in three minutes."
Natasha added, "But this time, I don't have gold coins. How about $3,000?"
Slightly disappointed by the lack of gold coins, Daniel recalled that his last trip with her had netted him a payout worth at least $100,000.
The true value of the Continental Hotel's gold coins lay in the services they granted. On the black market, a single coin could fetch a minimum of $100,000, often "clean" money, already laundered.
But despite high demand, sellers were rare.
Still, $3,000 for a trip to Washington was worth it.
"No problem. But I hope I get a chance to take a gold coin job in the future."
Hearing Daniel's comment, Natasha chuckled and replied, "You'll get your chance."
Natasha put on her static veil once more and rode Daniel's high-speed car, which cruised at a blistering 360 kilometers per hour. In just a little over an hour, they arrived back at her initial pickup location.
As Natasha got out of the car, Daniel leaned out of the window and said, "Beautiful lady, next time you've got a gold coin mission, I'll let you experience my second gear."
Hearing that today's speed—which already felt like a land-based rocket—was only "first gear," Natasha smiled and replied, "If there's a mission, I'll ping you."
Daniel gave her an "OK" hand gesture and sped off with a roar of the engine.
Natasha took a circuitous route before returning to Sam's residence, where Steve and Sam had just arrived after retrieving the Falcon gear.
Seeing Natasha, Steve asked, "How did it go on your end?"
Natasha smiled and replied, "Handled. We've got backup."
Steve nodded and said, "Since everything is ready, let's move. We've got Sitwell's location."
…
Elsewhere-
Sitwell and a U.S. Senator exited a restaurant.
As they walked, the Senator said, "I need to fly home tonight. Something's come up in my district that I have to deal with."
Sitwell asked, "A constituent issue, Senator?"
"Not exactly."
The Senator stopped and glanced at Sitwell, continuing, "She's 23. A bit of a firecracker."
"I think she wants to be a journalist... or something. I don't remember. Who listens to what they say?"
Sitwell chuckled and replied, "Doesn't sound like much of a problem."
The Senator smirked and added, "Really?"
"She scratched my back so hard it still hurts."
He laughed and added, "Not the kind of topic for this place."
Then, noticing the pin on Sitwell's lapel, he complimented, "Nice pin."
"Thanks for noticing," Sitwell replied.
The Senator grinned and said, "Bring it in," opening his arms for a hug.
As they embraced, the Senator whispered in Sitwell's ear, "Hail Hydra."
Clearly, this Senator was also a member of Hydra.
While they conversed, Steve, Natasha, and Sam had already arrived at the scene and were communicating via earpieces. Steve remained in the car, while Natasha set up a sniper rifle for long-range coverage.
Steve asked through the comms, "Do you see him?"
Sam replied, "Yeah, I've got eyes on him."
As the Senator left with four bodyguards, the scene was left with just Sitwell and his two security personnel.
At that moment, Sitwell's phone rang. He glanced at the screen, and the caller ID displayed the name Alexander Pierce.
Seeing this number, Sitwell said to his security, "Go fetch the car."
After sending him away, Sitwell answered the phone.
"Hello, sir," he said.
But instead of the expected voice, a strange man's voice came through the line, "Agent Sitwell, did you enjoy lunch? I hear the crab cakes here are quite good."
Sitwell frowned in confusion, "Who are you?"
"The handsome guy with sunglasses at your ten o'clock."
Sitwell instinctively looked toward the indicated direction but saw no one resembling the description.
"The other ten o'clock," the voice clarified.
Finally, Sitwell spotted a man at a nearby street-side stall, sipping a drink while wearing sunglasses. It was Sam, who casually raised his drink and waved at Sitwell.
"What do you want?" Sitwell demanded.
Sam calmly replied, "Turn the corner to your right. There's a gray car in the second parking spot. Let's take a little ride."
"And why should I do that?" Sitwell sneered.
"Because that tie of yours looks expensive," Sam said with a smirk, "and I'd hate to ruin it."
Sitwell glanced down at his tie and noticed a red dot from a sniper's laser sight moving over it. His body stiffened as he realized he was in someone's crosshairs.
Glancing around, he saw no sign of the sniper. The open plaza in front of the restaurant provided no cover, and retreating into the building would take too long.
With no other option, Sitwell begrudgingly followed the instructions and walked toward the gray car.
His mind raced as he wondered who was behind this and how he might turn the situation to his advantage. He resolved to take control once he reached the car.
However, as soon as he got in, Sitwell froze in shock. Sitting in the driver's seat was Steve Rogers—Captain America himself.
Sitwell's heart sank. He immediately recognized that he was outmatched. Before he could think of an escape plan, Natasha joined them, having descended from her sniper position.
Now face-to-face with both Steve and Natasha, Sitwell abandoned any thoughts of resistance. He could only hope his security detail would realize something was wrong and come to his rescue.