If one was looking from the outside in, the view would be quite scenic. A shower of snow falling in the bed of white, a contrast against the deep night sky. The only source of light, a dim unsuspecting streetlamp.
But ofcourse, we are not looking from the outside in. That is why, we know the lamp is not an ordinary one at all. Under it, is a base that houses some of our Earth's cruelest and most lethal criminals. They were working under the banner with seven heads.
Hydra.
12 men, dressed in various layers of black, sat around a table. The one sitting at the head stood up and turned to the transparent board. He pressed a few buttons and appeared a picture, a boy.
His features were sharp. A jaw that seemed to be able to cut, nose a little upturned and a crooked smile that was more smirk than smile. But his eyes, in complete contrast, we're incredibly soft.
The man faced the conference spoting a menacing look on his face. "This," he slammed his finger at the centre of the board, "is our target. We capture him, we break Stark. And if we break Stark, well...the rest is quite obvious."
A wave of understanding passed between them that can be achieved only by surviving intense training and dangerous missions together.
The mission will be simple, won't it?
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