Rumlow stared at the spot where Mario had disappeared, his jaw clenched tight enough to crack teeth. The order from his superiors had been clear: retreat immediately.
Captain America was en route with a full S.H.I.E.L.D. response team. With Zola's Insight program still in development, Hydra couldn't afford exposure. Not yet. Not when they were so close.
"All units, pull back!" he barked into his headset.
His men immediately launched a final barrage of incendiary rounds and fuel bombs. The entire area erupted into an inferno, flames climbing twenty feet into the air and belching thick black smoke toward the sky. The remaining Quinjet pulled up hard, banking toward the clouds.
The downed aircraft that Mario had shot out of the sky received one final transmission, its self-destruct sequence activated. The wreckage exploded in a fireball that consumed any evidence of Hydra's involvement.
Underground, Mario felt the tremors through the earth as he tunneled away from the bombardment. The vibrations were strong enough to shake loose dirt from the tunnel ceiling.
Are they going to bomb the whole area?
He stopped digging and broke through to the surface. Fire raged across the ruins of his workshop, and thick smoke made it impossible to see more than a few feet in any direction.
He pulled a water bucket from his inventory, poured it at his feet, and stood in the resulting water source block. The flames couldn't touch him here, but that didn't make watching his life's work burn any less painful.
On his mini-map, the red dots were retreating fast. He briefly considered pursuit, but dismissed the idea immediately. His two legs couldn't catch vehicles, and he wasn't about to waste ender pearls chasing an enemy that was already gone.
Unless I can brew Speed 100 potions someday. Then we'll see who's running.
The heat was intense enough to warp the air into shimmering waves. He stood in silence, watching the flames consume everything. Soon, only scattered fires remained on the scorched earth outside the workshop, funeral pyres for the Hydra operatives who hadn't made it out.
After the fire, only ashes remained.
The sound of rotor blades cut through the crackling flames. Another aircraft appeared overhead, but this one was different. The massive S.H.I.E.L.D. logo on its hull was impossible to miss, practically screaming its affiliation to anyone watching. The rear hatch opened, and a figure leaped out without hesitation, landing hard enough to crater the ash-covered ground.
He didn't bother looking. He kept his eyes fixed on the burning workshop.
"Mr. Argento?"
Only then did Mario turn his head to see who'd arrived.
Standing behind him, in full costume with his iconic round shield strapped to his arm, was Steve Rogers.
"Captain. Mario is fine."
Mario's eyes involuntarily flickered downward, taking in the way Rogers' uniform pants accentuated certain... features. He couldn't help but think the internet had been right about one thing, America definitely had a great ass.
Rogers, with the enhanced senses that came with the super-soldier serum, noticed the glance. He looked down at his pants, thinking maybe he'd gotten something on them, but saw nothing except some ash on his boots.
"The enemy escaped?"
Mario nodded, his gaze returning to the ruins. "Workshop's completely destroyed. All the equipment, the research, everything. It's all gone."
That's when he felt it, a cold drop hitting his face. He looked up to see dark clouds rolling in, replacing the clear sky that had been there minutes ago.
Rain began to fall, light at first, then heavier. The drops hissed and steamed where they hit the superheated ground, but soon the downpour was washing away even that.
He pulled out blocks and quickly constructed a small shelter, four walls and a roof, nothing fancy. Just enough to get out of the rain.
The Quinjet descended nearby, landing smoothly. Natasha emerged first, followed by a squad of heavily armed S.H.I.E.L.D. agents who immediately fanned out to secure the area and search for evidence.
Mario finished his crude structure in record time. Rogers watched with fascination, like a man seeing magic for the first time.
He turned to Natasha. "Are there many people with abilities like his?"
Natasha shook her head. "There are many enhanced individuals in the world. But no one quite like him."
"Let's go, Captain."
She'd noticed Mario standing in the doorway of his shelter, gesturing for them to join him. A faint smile crossed her face as she led Rogers toward the structure.
Mario pointed at wooden slabs he'd placed on the floor. "Sit. We need to talk."
Natasha and Rogers exchanged glances before sitting across from him. Natasha spoke first. "Do you know who attacked you?"
"That's exactly what I want to discuss."
Mario pulled out his cigarettes and offered the pack to both of them. They declined. He shrugged, lit one for himself, and punched a hole in the wooden wall behind him to vent the smoke.
"I don't know if Fury told you about them. But today I lost eight people. Good people. And my entire operation."
He turned to Natasha. "I need you to contact Fury. There's something he needs to hear."
Natasha nodded and pulled out a compact communication device. Moments later, Fury's image was projected onto the wooden wall.
"What's the situation?"
"The enemy retreated before we arrived," she reported. "No casualties on our side."
Fury's expression didn't change. He'd probably expected as much. With Hydra's infiltration of S.H.I.E.L.D., any major operation was compromised before it even began.
Mario didn't waste time with pleasantries. "I want Alexander Pierce dead. I need his address."
Rogers' expression remained neutral, he was still processing too much to react properly. But Natasha's pupils contracted sharply.
After a long pause, Fury finally spoke. "It's not the right time. Given the current situation inside S.H.I.E.L.D., killing him won't solve the fundamental problem—"
Mario flicked his cigarette butt through the hole in the wall. "Don't talk to me about S.H.I.E.L.D.'s internal politics. Your organization is compromised beyond repair. The troops you sent today, those were your handpicked agents, right? Your most trusted people? Not bad choices. Except about thirty percent of them are Hydra. I'll clean house for you in a few days. Don't bother thanking me."
At the mention of Hydra, something shifted in Rogers. His entire posture changed, becoming more alert. "Hydra? I thought we destroyed them during the war. Are you saying Hydra infiltrated S.H.I.E.L.D.?"
Mario nodded. "That's exactly what I'm saying. After the war, S.H.I.E.L.D.'s Operation Paperclip brought in hundreds of Nazi scientists and intelligence officers. Most of them were Hydra. They've been rebuilding inside your organization for decades."
He gestured vaguely toward the ruins. "The people who did this today? Technically S.H.I.E.L.D. operatives. Though Snake-H.I.E.L.D. might be more accurate."
Fury's image flickered slightly. "Give me three days. Let me prepare."
Mario considered it, then nodded. "Fine. Three days."
The rain showed no signs of stopping. He watched the downpour create a curtain of water across the shelter's entrance. On his mini-map, the red dots representing Hydra forces continued retreating.
Three days. Then they learn what happens when you fuck with my famiglia.
After ending the call with Fury, both Natasha and Rogers sat in contemplative silence. Rogers seemed to be processing the information relatively well, he'd only been awake for a short time, and fighting Hydra was familiar territory. The organization's survival wasn't shocking so much as disappointing.
But Natasha was different. Her expression had gone dark, her eyes slightly unfocused as she stared at nothing.
Rogers noticed her state. "What's wrong?"
Natasha was quiet for a moment before answering. "When I joined S.H.I.E.L.D., I thought I was finally working for the good guys."
She shook her head bitterly. "Turns out I just traded the KGB for Hydra. I thought I knew who I was working for, but now…"
Rogers didn't know how to comfort her. He was still adjusting to this new era himself, feeling out of place in a world that had moved on without him.
Mario pulled himself from his own thoughts. "Do you need me to identify the Hydra agents in your team? I can point them out right now if you want."
It was mostly a rhetorical offer. He'd already agreed to give Fury three days, and he needed that time to take care of his own people anyway.
Natasha glanced through the rain at the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents collecting evidence outside. "I can't tell them apart anymore..."
"I can," Mario said simply. Then he shook his head. "But let's wait the three days like I promised."
He had faith that someone like Fury, now armed with advance knowledge of Hydra's infiltration, would take appropriate measures. At minimum, the director would secure S.H.I.E.L.D.'s financial assets before everything went to hell.
"You two should head back," Mario said, standing up. "I've got a lot to handle here, and we'll be seeing each other again soon enough."
Natasha and Rogers stood as well, giving him respectful nods before turning to walk into the downpour toward the waiting Quinjet. The other agents, having received the retreat order, boarded the aircraft alongside them.
Mario remained in his shelter, watching the jet disappear into the stormy sky. He didn't move for a long time.
In the underground shelter, the research staff were restless. Small groups huddled together, whispering nervously. But most of the attention was focused on Ivan, where several researchers were trying to figure out how to extract him from his damaged armor.
Ivan had lost an arm, but Mario's healing potion had stopped the bleeding. He was stable, if not comfortable.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
The sound of mining came from within the wall. Dozens of heads turned toward the noise, and most faces lit up with relief. Mario was back.
The wall broke open and he stepped through, meeting the anxious stares of his employees.
"The enemy's gone," he announced, forcing a smile he didn't really feel.
The tension in the room dropped immediately. Everyone exhaled in relief.
He checked his mini-map and noticed something interesting. Many of the dots that had been green before were now white. But they weren't red, which was what mattered. These were researchers and engineers, not soldiers. Of course some of them would want to distance themselves from him after what happened.
He cleared his throat.
"I want to apologize. Because of me, you were put in danger today. I can't promise it won't happen again. But I can promise this: I'm forming a dedicated security force. Every guard will be equipped with powered armor. We'll build secure escape routes throughout the facility. Any research staff who pass security screening can apply for their own suit. Everyone here is getting a bonus equal to one year's salary. And anyone who stays on will get a fifty percent pay raise. If anyone wants to leave, I'll provide three months' severance. No hard feelings."
He watched the dots on his mini-map. One by one, they shifted from white back to green.
"I'm not going to feed you bullshit about ideals or the greater good. I'm your boss, and I take responsibility for my people. That's it. But this time I failed, and there is no excuse for it. The only thing I can say is: this won't happen again."
He could see the relief on their faces. The promise of protection, the financial compensation, it was enough to restore their faith in him.
"For your safety, you'll need to stay down here for three days. Don't worry about food, beds, or supplies. I'll provide everything you need."
His gaze shifted to Ivan, still trapped in his damaged armor. "How are you holding up?"
"Pretty good, actually." Ivan pulled out a cigarette, something Mario had noticed he'd been doing more often lately, though usually with a toothpick instead.
Mario lit it for him. "Don't worry. I'm going to make them pay for this. For you and the others."
He turned to Anton. "What's the situation with the armor? How do we get him out?"
Anton's expression was grim. "The automatic release mechanism was destroyed. We need tools to disassemble it manually. With proper equipment from the lab, it should be straightforward."
Mario thought about the burning workshop upstairs and shook his head. "The workshop's gone. Tell me what tools you need and I'll have Anna procure them."
Anna had been out handling supply runs and business deals when the attack happened. Lucky timing for her.
---
When Anna finally made it back to the facility with her supply truck, she stood frozen in front of the ruins, umbrella forgotten in her hand.
Where the hell is the workshop?
Mario emerged from his shelter. Checking his mini-map, he confirmed she was still showing as a green dot. Good. His smile became more genuine.
"Anna! Over here!"
She snapped out of her shock and ran toward him, the truck following behind. "What happened? How did the workshop end up like this?"
"Accidentally burned it down while smoking. Don't worry about it. Did you get the tools I asked for?"
He gestured toward the truck. Right now, his only priority was extracting Ivan from that armor and assessing the full extent of his injuries.
But in the back of his mind, he was already planning. The Winter Soldier's Prosthetic Arm would be perfect.
After all, flesh was weak. Metal was eternal. Join the glorious evolution!
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30 Advance Chapters!