"Damn it, how do I establish a connection with the Devonshire family?" Alexander Pierce stood in his S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters office, staring out the window, coffee in hand. He had decided not to wait any longer but was frustrated at his lack of leverage to reach William or Lena Devonshire.
Was he really considering selling out Natasha Romanoff? Doing so might temporarily hinder Nick Fury, but it would also confirm Fury's suspicions that Hydra had infiltrated S.H.I.E.L.D. Even if Pierce found a way to justify it, he'd lose trust among non-Hydra agents. Worse still, William already knew that Pierce was Hydra. Offering minor favors wouldn't gain his trust—instead, it would likely lead to William exploiting him for everything he had.
This was why Pierce hadn't dared reveal the existence of the Tesseract to William. If the Devonshire heir learned about it, there was no doubt he'd find a way to seize it. Yet Pierce couldn't deny that William possessed things Hydra coveted, which was why he had long sought to recruit him.
But no matter how long he waited, William never seemed to reach a breaking point. His survival instincts and resourcefulness had thwarted all attempts to push him into desperation. Now, with reports indicating that the Devonshire family had secretly constructed new spacecraft, Pierce feared William's return to Earth was imminent.
Pierce sighed and thought to himself: Maybe it's time to put the Tesseract on the table... He considered whether William's Mars ship engine truly had untapped energy potential, possibly tied to the secret of immortality William had hinted at in the past.
While Pierce left Washington, William was on a secure call with London. It had been several days since his large-scale purge of werewolves, and communication from Mars had been sporadic. Neither the British government nor William's associates could reach him, and even his live broadcasts had abruptly stopped.
This radio silence fueled widespread anxiety and speculation. Media outlets and social platforms were awash with rumors about what had happened to William on Mars. However, William soon reappeared, broadcasting a brief ten-minute video. His relaxed demeanor reassured viewers that he was safe, and he explained the interruption was due to critical repairs on his ship that involved classified technology.
For the public, this made perfect sense—after all, secrecy around advanced spacecraft was expected. What truly mattered to them was that William was alive, which meant their betting pools on his Mars survival adventure could continue. Over two hundred million people had already paid to participate in the next round of predictions on Facebook, where the rules had been adjusted to improve the chances of winning.
After finishing his broadcast, William turned his attention to his guests, his expression shifting from relaxed to serious as he stared down the U.S. ambassador to the U.K.
The ambassador, who had intended to confront William about recent events, faltered under the icy glare. His mind flashed to the grisly fate of the three American officials whose entire families had been slaughtered. Instead of pressing the issue, he opted for a polite inquiry instead, hoping to avoid provoking William further.
Standing nearby, the British Foreign Secretary silently mocked the ambassador's sudden change in tone. The American diplomat, who had been aggressive and demanding earlier, was now meek and hesitant. Seeing his discomfort, the Foreign Secretary feigned ignorance when the ambassador silently pleaded for help.
William, fully aware of this exchange, smirked slightly. He had little patience for American posturing today. Now that he knew Alexander Pierce was moving, he had more important matters to focus on.
"If you have nothing else to say, then leave," William said bluntly. "Send someone with real authority to negotiate, or perhaps I'll speak with President Benjamin Arthur directly."
The ambassador's face twitched in irritation, but he quickly swallowed his pride. He knew his role was merely to gauge William's mood. Now that he had confirmation William was willing to engage diplomatically, there was no point in arguing further.
"Please don't keep us waiting too long," the ambassador muttered before making his exit.
The British Foreign Secretary sneered under his breath, whispering, "Coward," before turning to William.
"Your Grace," he began, adopting a more formal tone, "your recent actions have caused us considerable diplomatic trouble. I hope that next time you plan such... endeavors, you'll give us some advance notice."
"Trouble?" William chuckled. "I don't know what you're talking about." His playful expression, however, made it clear that he was fully aware of what the Foreign Secretary was referring to.
The diplomat sighed, deciding not to press the issue. The Americans had lodged a few complaints but had taken no real action, which left the British suspicious. Were they preparing a counterstrike or had they been genuinely intimidated by William's show of force?
The possibility that William might hold the ultimate strategic advantage was not lost on the British government. With his access to spacecraft and potential control of Mars, he could easily threaten Earth from orbit if provoked. A single armed ship stationed in space could exert more deterrence than an entire fleet of nuclear submarines.
From now on, William Devonshire's importance had to be reevaluated. No nation could afford to push him too far.
"I trust you've covered your tracks well enough," the Foreign Secretary warned. "If the Americans find concrete evidence linking you to these incidents, not even your influence can shield you from legal consequences unless you fully sever ties with the global order."
"Relax," William replied dismissively. "I have plenty of repairs to focus on. Besides, I've discovered that Mars's Valles Marineris is an ideal location for a permanent settlement. I might even become an official Martian resident soon." He chuckled before adding, "If the Americans really want to arrest me, let them come to Mars and try."
The Foreign Secretary couldn't help but grin at William's audacity.
"However," William continued, "if I do end up on the run, I'd rather the settlement fly the Devonshire family banner than the British flag. It wouldn't look good for your government if you couldn't apprehend me, after all."
"Fair enough," the diplomat replied with a sigh. There was no point arguing further. William had clearly thought everything through, and for now, the situation was stable.
(End of Chapter)
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