"I'm sending you the coordinates. Can you see me, Catherine?"
"Yes, my lord." Catherine's voice came through with the sound of wind rushing in the background, accompanied by faint instrument noise. In Solomon's mind, he pictured Catherine with one leg crossed over the other, lounging in the co-pilot's seat. He knew this exuberant android probably still wasn't wearing her seatbelt properly—even after slamming her head into the cockpit frame during their last maneuver, she hadn't learned her lesson. Solomon had no idea what was wrong with her. She asked excitedly, "Need fire support? Our pilots are raring to go!"
"Did I just hear you mention bombardment again, Catherine?" said the android piloting the aircraft bluntly. "Without the Monarch's order, I'm not opening fire. Give it up. And Catherine—don't touch the dashboard. Don't touch any buttons! Hands off!"
"Maybe the Monarch will give the order in a minute! What's the harm in touching a few things?" Catherine gleefully switched channels. "My lord, shall I fire? Let me handle the cannons—I guarantee a direct hit!"
"No, I need surveillance and early warning," Solomon replied. Catherine let out a dejected whimper, far from the heroic swordfighter image she typically projected on missions. The Arcanist smiled knowingly—he understood Catherine's temperament and didn't take her whining seriously. Tita would fix her up later anyway.
He had originally considered bringing the sky carrier and sky battleship into Hell to let the yokels of the lower planes see some real technology. But it seemed now that issues in the material plane had to take priority. He needed the carrier and battleship to ensure that he and the witch wouldn't have their retreat cut off after entering the passage. In any case, enemies were enemies, upper plane or lower—it didn't matter. He uploaded command codes and mission priority to the satellite command terminal so others arriving in Noahdun could execute the plan directly. Meanwhile, two missile-armed fighter jets took off from the Lost City's airfield, piloted by members of the Malik family. The two aircraft were on suicide missions—only people from Hydra had the kind of resolve to accept death with such ease. SHIELD agents, always talking about "free will," could never be assigned to something this brutal. Only the loyalists Victoria Hand had recruited at the onset of the rebellion had the kind of devotion to offer up their lives.
Solomon looked at the witch and the boy walking ahead. The path known as the Bridge to Heaven curved with elegance, supported by tall columns built entirely from stone bricks and quarried blocks—a testament to the advanced mathematics and physics knowledge of its builders. If possible, he didn't want the upcoming battle to destroy this pinnacle of human ingenuity. He hoped to hand the ruins over to Lara Croft and future scholars they would recruit.
"Patience, my daughters," he murmured. "Your battle will come soon enough."
"Darling, hurry up!" Bayonetta called out with a wave. "We still have a long way to go!"
"Prep a motorcycle," Solomon said to Catherine. "I'll deliver it via portal."
"A motorcycle?" Bayonetta circled the vehicle Solomon had just portaled in. The motorcycle, manufactured on Mars, was specially designed for powered armor users and equipped with twin plasma cannons on the front—more than capable of melting anything in its path. Originally intended for use by the Sisterhood, its sleek black body was adorned with gold-embossed roses and lilies, perfectly matching Bayonetta's taste inherited from the witch clan.
She straddled the bike and gave the throttle a twist. The mechanical beast let out a thunderous roar.
"This road's way too long to walk," the Arcanist said, raising his hand and pointing to the jet engines on his back. "And I really don't want to keep carrying this snot-nosed brat."
"I'm not a snot-nosed brat, you giant!" the boy rolled his eyes. "I swear, you've been dying to pick a fight with me."
"Believe me, it's not your imagination." Solomon grinned menacingly. "Get on. We're in a hurry."
"I need the mission report," Stephanie was saying to Victoria Hand. "I know this is an order from the Monarch, but I handle internal affairs and logistics. Even if the intel division operates independently, internal affairs must be involved when it concerns the Monarch's safety. I won't allow him to go on a mission this dangerous without knowing a thing!"
"Calm down. I never said you couldn't know," Victoria Hand replied, pushing up her glasses and continuing to study the holographic display. Satellite imagery of Noahdun, radar data from Catherine's assault squad, sky carrier engine output, fuel and ammunition reserves, carrier-based aircraft statuses, fighter jet flight paths, and the readiness of the special operations soldiers were all listed—along with even the classified Sisterhood data accessible only by Tita. She waved her hand, and the sensors in her glove shrank Stephanie's communication window to the side.
"According to schedule, you should be at the Pentagon negotiating with General Hale and escorting Ruby to the assassination division for training," Victoria said coldly. "You know how the Monarch is. He wants you to follow the plan, not let your emotions cause delays."
"I already spoke to the Kamar-Taj liaison. If I hadn't, I wouldn't even have known about the sky carrier's heading!" Stephanie replied sternly. "Don't mistake me for some power-hungry schemer, Victoria. I'm not a spy. I don't care about the Immortal City. I care about him. I serve him, not the organization or any ideology. If he's alive, we can build as many Immortal Cities as we want. He's the one that matters. As for the rest of you—I couldn't care less if you all died."
"Typical Hydra mindset—only focused on short-term gains," Victoria scoffed. "You'll know what you need to know, Stephanie. And you'll learn just how much the Monarch values his ideals. For those ideals, lives are just expendable chips. Oh, and one more thing. Got a plan for dealing with the Avengers? They seem to think the Monarch knows everything—especially about the Christmas attack."
"He does."
"Yes, but those idiots can't know that. According to intel from Black Widow, Tony Stark and Steve Rogers are furious that the Monarch kept them in the dark. They have no idea how much they don't know. They definitely don't realize the Hydras they captured were radical cells we deliberately sent out. And now that damn android Vision seems to have spotted the descending angels. We need a cover story fast. The Monarch's not here, and we have to maintain the illusion that the Immortal City hasn't infiltrated the Department of Defense. That's your job, Stephanie. You're head of internal affairs."
"Damn it!" the Hydra heiress snapped, slamming the comm shut. "Why the hell did the Monarch have to attract such a troublesome woman!"
"Sweetheart, is everything alright?"
"It's nothing, Dad," Stephanie said, rising and grabbing her bag. "Just some small trouble. I need to attend the Council on Foreign Relations meeting, talk with Goldman Sachs and JPMorgan about our Middle East strategy. And Rockefeller—damn that Rockefeller!"
(End of Chapter)
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