Crack!
Crack!
"Still won't talk, huh?"
Mario brought the leather whip down again on the vampire strung up against the wall. Through Woody, he'd learned the converted agent's name was Allen, which sounded more like a nickname than anything official.
CRACK!
The leather bit deep into Allen's flesh, opening two savage wounds that gaped. Blood ran down his skin, but the vampire's enhanced healing was already working to close the damage.
"Damn, hermano," Garcia said from where he was lounging on one of the stone benches Mario had crafted. "You're really going at it. That pendejo do something personal to you?"
"Every Hydra agent makes it personal," Mario replied, wiping sweat from his forehead. "They tried to kill me in my own territory."
Kerry looked up from the weapon he was cleaning. "Speaking of which, you sure this torture thing is working? Dude's been hanging there for a while and hasn't said shit."
"That's because he's loyal to the cause," Woody said quietly, studying his former teammate with eyes. "He'd rather die than give up secrets."
"Your turn," Mario said, offering the whip to Woody. "Hit harder this time. Aim for his mouth."
Woody had been adapting well to his enhanced abilities. Mario had sacrificed six precious vials of Vampire Blood to boost him to Level 2, unlocking the first two Hunter skills. The transformation hadn't given him supernatural strength, but his stamina and speed had improved dramatically. With "Increased Attack Speed," he could trigger something like bullet-time reflexes.
All four of his new recruits had received the same treatment, Garcia, Kerry, and Gore were also Level 2 Hunters now, each specializing in different aspects of the job.
Woody took the whip but hesitated, staring at the suspended Hydra agent. They weren't close, but they'd been comrades-in-arms.
"Shouldn't we be interrogating him for information instead of just... this?"
"Interrogate him?" Mario waved dismissively. "No point. If he wants to talk, he'll talk. If he doesn't, you won't get anything by asking."
"If you want to question him, go ahead. If not, help me beat his ass. Don't worry about killing him, he's a vampire now. Break his arm and it'll grow back. Hell, drain him dry and just give him some blood to recover."
Kerry looked queasy at the suggestion. "Man, I know these guys tried to kill us, but this is pretty intense. Back on the streets, we just beat people up and moved on. This whole torture thing is..."
"Different league, hermano," Gore interrupted, trying to sound wise. "We're dealing with international conspiracies now. Sometimes you gotta adapt your methods to match the threat level."
"Gore's right," Mario said, walking over to the leather couch in his underground base and dropping into it heavily. "These aren't street criminals or even regular vampires. Hydra has been infiltrating governments for decades. They're not going to break from a few punches."
A quick glance at his minimap showed no new red dots, but there were plenty of white ones scattered around. The earlier gunfight had definitely attracted police attention.
"Garcia," Mario called out, "come over here a second."
The gang leader approached. "What's up?"
"You've got family in the neighborhood, right? Mother, little brother?"
Garcia's expression hardened immediately. His protective instincts when it came to Miguel and his mother were legendary among the crew. "Yeah. Why?"
"Because Hydra doesn't just target their primary enemies. They go after families, friends, anyone who might be used as leverage. After today's attack, they know about you and your boys. That makes your people potential targets."
Garcia fell silent. He'd joined Mario's organization partly for the steady pay and benefits, but mostly because it felt like something bigger than just street-level crime. The thought that his association with them might put Miguel in danger hadn't occurred to him.
"What do we do?"
"We make them understand that threatening civilians, especially our civilians, is a mistake they'll only make once," Mario replied, pulling out his phone. "But first, I need to make some calls."
Kerry was studying the unconscious Hydra agent. "You know what? Fuck this guy. If these pendejos are gonna threaten kids, I don't feel bad about the torture anymore."
Gore nodded. "Still pretty brutal though. Makes me glad we're on the good guys' side."
Mario started dialing Coulson's number, then waved at Woody, who was still holding the whip.
"If you can't bring yourself to do it, let Garcia take over. I need to make a call."
"I got it," Garcia said, accepting the whip. The thought of Hydra agents anywhere near his family had erased any remaining reluctance about "enhanced" interrogation techniques.
The phone rang three times before connecting.
"Mario, hold on a second."
Coulson's slightly exasperated voice came through immediately, followed by the sound of footsteps. He was probably looking for somewhere private to talk.
"Coulson," Mario said, putting the call on speaker so his team could hear. "We've got a situation."
After about ten seconds: "Alright, what's the situation? Let me guess, more bad news?"
They'd worked together enough times to be comfortable with each other.
"Well, if I remember correctly, every time you call it's either to ask me to collect something for you or because someone tried to kill you. So what is it this time?"
"You're getting too good at reading me, Coulson. Hydra sent a surveillance team after me. I took them out. Left one Hydra operative alive and one S.H.I.E.L.D. agent. The rest are ash. You should probably call Fury, he's going to hear about this anyway."
Coulson sighed. "How bad is the exposure?"
"Contained for now. But here's the thing, my new associates have families in the area. If Hydra knows about them, they're going to go after soft targets for leverage."
Kerry looked up sharply. "Wait, do I have family they could threaten? I mean, my mom's in Tucson, but..."
"Anyone you care about is potentially at risk. That's how these people operate."
"Oh, I need protective details," Mario continued into the phone. "And I need them fast. These guys have proven themselves in combat, but their civilian connections need to be secured. And I'm wondering if you guys want this Hydra agent for anything. If not, I'll finish him off once I'm done venting."
There was a pause on Coulson's end. "I'm in Los Angeles right now trying to make contact with Tony Stark. Because of what happened with you, Fury has developed serious trust issues with internal S.H.I.E.L.D. personnel. As the only agent who knows the full story, I'm swamped with work."
"Then delegate," Mario said flatly. "Or give me the resources to handle it myself."
"I'll inform Director Fury about the Hydra situation. He's already preparing to have Agent Romanoff take over my duties and serve as your liaison. Maybe she can coordinate the protective details."
Mario froze when he heard that name.
Natasha Romanoff. Born in Stalingrad in 1984, trained from childhood by Soviet operatives to become the perfect spy. Her body had been enhanced to slow aging and increase resistance to damage. Years of brutal physical and mental conditioning had turned her into a deadly weapon, the Black Widow. She'd eventually betrayed the Red Room and joined S.H.I.E.L.D.
Despite her actual age, she was undeniably beautiful. And that figure, honed by decades of training...
"Yo, Mario," Kerry said, waving a hand in front of Mario's face. "You still with us?"
"Yeah, sorry. Just processing the intel." Mario cleared his throat. "Coulson, maybe we shouldn't contact each other anymore. I'd hate for Agent Romanoff to get the wrong idea about our working relationship."
Garcia snorted with laughter. "Hermano, did you just get distracted thinking about some chick in the middle of a discussion?"
"She's not just some chick," Mario protested.
Coulson's voice came through the phone. "Don't joke around, Mario. Tell me, do you know anything about Stark's disappearance?"
Mario sobered immediately. "You're asking me? Don't tell me S.H.I.E.L.D. can't figure this out on their own. If that's true, you and Fury might as well quit and open a pizza joint."
"We do have a primary suspect," Coulson said, clearly frustrated by Mario's response. "Obadiah Stane, a major shareholder at Stark Industries. He's been secretly dealing weapons to terrorists. It looks like he's behind the kidnapping."
"Not bad. You're not completely useless after all."
Mario's overall assessment of S.H.I.E.L.D. remained unchanged. As supposedly the most powerful organization on the surface, they couldn't even locate the Ten Rings' hideout in Afghanistan. He didn't buy it. If that was really true, it meant Hydra elements inside S.H.I.E.L.D. didn't want Tony to come back alive.
Garcia looked confused. "Wait, who's Tony Stark? Should we know this guy?"
"Billionaire weapons manufacturer," Woody explained. "Stark Industries supplies most of the military's advanced tech. If he's been kidnapped by terrorists, it's a big deal."
"Bigger than you know," Mario muttered. He knew exactly what Tony's kidnapping would lead to, the birth of Iron Man. But he also knew better than to interfere with that particular timeline.
"Coulson, I don't want to get involved in the Stark situation. Focus on getting me those protective details."
Iron Man was still in his origin story phase, and he didn't want to risk meeting an arrogant version later. He preferred not to derail Tony's character development.
He rubbed his chin, suddenly thinking about Ivan Vanko, the villain from Iron Man 2.
Now there's a genuine talent. Way better than those so-called scientists at Hammer Industries. Most importantly, his father probably isn't dead yet. Find him and it's like getting two for the price of one.
The thought excited him. While Iron Man 2's plot was still far off, if Ivan's father Anton died early, it would be a huge loss. He was confident he could cure Anton's illness, a bucket of milk plus a healing potion should do it. If that didn't work, he could always turn him into a vampire.
"Oh, Coulson, since you're busy in Los Angeles, I won't keep you. Give me her number, I have some serious business to discuss with her."
Coulson: "..."
After Mario hung up, Garcia looked at him expectantly. "So what's the plan? How do we handle this family protection thing?"
"First, we finish up here," Mario said, gesturing toward the suspended Hydra agent. "Then we make some adjustments to our security protocols."
Kerry was examining his silver knife again, testing the edge against his thumb. "You know, I never thought I'd be worried about assassins coming after my mom. This job has some weird side effects."
"At least your mom's in another state," Garcia said grimly. "Mine lives like six blocks from here. And Miguel's school is walking distance from our old territory."
"We'll handle it," Mario assured him. "But from now on, we operate under the assumption that everyone we care about is a potential target. That means operational security, coded communications, and a lot more paranoia."
Gore nodded seriously. "I can live with paranoia."
---
Hell's Kitchen.
An hour later, they were driving through the chaotic streets in Woody's SUV. Above them, a dark shadow could be seen following the vehicle. Garcia rode shotgun while Kerry and Gore occupied the back seat, all of them armed.
Mario had insisted they continue their regular patrol schedule despite the Hydra threat.
The car moved at barely more than a jogging pace as they scanned for threats. Gunshots echoed from nearby alleys.
"Yo," Garcia said. "That Romanoff chick you were talking about earlier. She single?"
"Focus on the mission, Garcia."
"I'm just saying, if she's as dangerous as you claim, maybe Kerry here could use some tips on talking to women. Dude's been striking out hard."
"Fuck you, Garcia!" Kerry protested from the back seat. "I do fine with women!"
"Getting maced doesn't count as 'doing fine,'" Gore pointed out helpfully.
"That was one time!"
Gore smirked. "Yeah, Candy's literally the only woman you've talked to on the street without getting maced, and she turned out to be a stripper."
"Exotic dancer," Garcia corrected. "She gets mad when you call her a stripper."
Woody glanced in the rearview mirror, confused. "Wait, you guys know a stripper?"
"Exotic dancer," all three gang members corrected in unison.
"She helped us figure out why women kept running away when we tried to ask them to hang out," Gore explained. "Turns out we were accidentally coming off as rapists. Apparently our approach was intimidating."
"You think?" Woody shook his head. "Three guys in baggy clothes surrounding women at night? Yeah, that might send the wrong message."
A beat-up motorcycle roared up from behind them, pulling alongside the driver's window with a screech of brakes that left black skid marks on the asphalt.
"Yo! Hand over the money!"
"Don't fucking move!"
One mugger pointed a pistol at Woody's head while his partner jumped off the bike and ran to the passenger side, aiming his gun at Garcia. The second guy was clearly high on something, his body twitched constantly and he couldn't stay still.
Sigh.
"So, this really is Hell's Kitchen," Mario said.
Before he could finish the thought, Pearl's massive form dropped from the sky like a guided missile, crushing the motorcycle rider.
"Jesus!" Kerry jumped in his seat. "Give us some warning next time!"
Taking advantage of the second mugger's moment of shock, Garcia reached out of his window and grabbed the man's gun hand, twisting hard.
CRACK!
"AHHHH!"
The scream of agony echoed off the surrounding buildings. The mugger's wrist bent at an angle that definitely wasn't natural.
Gore caught the falling pistol before tossing it into the cargo area where it joined at least twenty other weapons they'd collected.
Mario opened his door and stepped out, planting his boot firmly on the writhing mugger's chest. "Pearl, finish this one too. But make it quick, we've got places to be."
"Got it! Someone toss me more bottles, this blood vial's getting full!"
Pearl's excited voice rang out from where he was crouched over the first mugger. The vampire had been collecting blood from various criminals throughout the night, building up their supply of crafting materials.
"I got you covered," Kerry said, climbing out of the SUV with several empty glass bottles. He'd gotten very good at this particular aspect of their operations.
Woody also climbed out, searching both muggers for valuables. "Couple of burner phones, maybe forty bucks in cash, and what looks like a small bag of crack."
"Throw the drugs in the storm drain," Mario instructed. "We're hunters, not dealers."
Bzzzz.
His phone vibrated against his leg. He pulled it out and saw an unfamiliar number, though a name immediately popped into his mind: Black Widow.
"Boys, stay alert. This might be important." He answered the call.
"Mr. Argento?"
"You must be Ms. Romanoff."
Garcia's eyes went wide, and he made exaggerated kissing motions behind Mario's back until Kerry smacked him in the head.
"That's right. I'm Natasha Romanoff, Level 10 S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent. I'll be handling your liaison duties from now on. I'm currently at Times Square in Manhattan."
Even through the phone, Mario could tell this woman was dangerous.
"Give me a few minutes," he said, raising his foot and kicking the mugger under him hard in the skull. The moaning stopped instantly. "I'm out handling some business with my team. We'll be right there."
"Team?" Natasha's voice carried a note of interest.
"My associates. You'll meet them when we arrive."
He hung up and called to Pearl, "Alright, dawn's coming soon. Let's head home."
Pearl immediately transformed back into bat form, revealing the unconscious mugger beneath him. The man's shallow breathing proved he was still alive. Pearl had been careful not to kill anyone tonight, he drained criminals of blood but always left them barely breathing. Whether some homeless person might find them later and do something weird was not their concern.
"Damn," Gore said, watching the transformation. "I don't think I'll ever get used to that."
Pearl clutched his collection of blood-filled bottles and perched obediently on the SUV's roof.
"We're going to meet someone very important, and I want you all on your best behavior," Mario said.
"Define 'best behavior,'" Garcia said with a grin.
"Don't hit on her, don't make stupid jokes, and for God's sake, don't mention the stripper thing."
"Exotic dancer!" all three chorused.
Woody started the engine, shaking his head. "And I thought military units had communication problems."
---
Twenty minutes later, they arrived at the entrance to Central Park.
Getting out of the car, he pulled out his pickaxe and stored the SUV back in his inventory. Woody, who had witnessed Mario pull vehicles from his backpack before, still felt his worldview crack a little at the sight.
"Still think that's the coolest shit ever," Kerry muttered.
They started walking toward Mario's base. Dawn was approaching, and Pearl's transformation couldn't be sustained in sunlight. Mario had no intention of carrying the vampire home in his arms.
Just as he was about to call Natasha's number, he spotted a figure standing at the edge of the tree line. She wore a skin-tight black tactical suit that perfectly showed off her curves, definitely eye-catching. But her face was cold and stern, showing not a trace of warmth as her sharp eyes assessed Mario and his entourage.
"Damn," Garcia whispered. "She's fine as hell, but she looks like she could kill all of us without breaking a sweat."
They approached the edge of the woods, and Mario extended his hand with a smile. "Welcome, Ms. Romanoff. I'm Mario, and this is my team."
"Hello, Mr. Argento." Natasha's expression remained completely neutral as she shook his hand. "I've received orders from Director Fury. From now on, I'll be responsible for liaison duties and assisting you with any problems you encounter."
Her gaze swept over the four men standing behind Mario, taking in their appearance and body language.
"These are my associates," Mario said, gesturing to his team. "Woody, former Army Ranger. Garcia, Kerry, and Gore, local specialists."
"Ma'am," Woody said formally, giving a slight nod.
Garcia flashed his gold teeth in what he probably thought was a charming smile. "Pleasure to meet you, señorita."
Kerry and Gore both mumbled polite greetings, clearly intimidated by Natasha's aura.
Mario nodded slightly. Seeing that uncompromising expression on her face, the fire of his earlier lustful thoughts was somewhat dampened. He liked beautiful women and enjoyed the idea of intimate encounters, but he wasn't interested in pursuing someone who looked like she might kill him if he said the wrong thing.
"Then let's walk and talk," he said, turning to head toward his base.
"I want you to help me find two people. Anton Vanko and his son Ivan. Anton is a physicist, but he's currently exiled in Siberia. I need S.H.I.E.L.D. to locate him, but don't make contact. I want to bring him back personally."
"Any particular reason for this interest?" Natasha asked.
Garcia glanced at Mario, then at Natasha. "Doesn't usually share operational details unless they're relevant to the mission."
"Smart policy," Natasha agreed. "Operational security is important in this business. I'll contact Director Fury immediately."
She pulled out a gray communicator from inside her tactical suit.
Gore leaned over to Kerry and whispered, "Did she just pull that thing out of her cleavage?"
"Shut up," Kerry hissed back. "She'll hear you."
Natasha's lips quirked slightly, the first hint of expression Mario had seen from her. Apparently she had good hearing.
A few minutes later, she approached Mario with the communicator. "Director Fury wants to speak with you."
Mario's expression froze for a moment, then he put on an act of confusion. He took the communicator and raised an eyebrow.
"Hello?" He paused, frowning. "What? I can't hear you, the signal's terrible."
"No sound at all! Ms. Romanoff, is this thing broken?" he handed the communicator back to her, blatantly ignoring Fury's voice coming from the device.
Natasha stared at him for a moment. Helpless, she had no choice but to take the communicator back and deal with an increasingly frustrated Fury.
Mario's lips curved into a smile. Fury had been pestering him ever since he'd stored the Tesseract in his inventory. He desperately wanted it back, but Mario had even blocked his phone number.
Did he really think I'd just hand it back after it's already in my possession? Fat chance.
---
At S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters, Fury was staring at his communicator with an expression that could melt steel. If he weren't worried that killing Mario might make the Tesseract irretrievable from that strange pocket dimension, he would've already ordered a strike team.
This was supposed to be a simple test of Mario's cooperation...
He could only pin his hopes on his best agent.
"Build a good relationship with him," he told Natasha through the communicator. "Report everything back to me."
---
Updates will likely be Mon–Fri, though it may vary since chapters like the last one took me 4-5 hours.
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30 Advance Chapters!