At a small airfield, in the middle of nowhere, far from any crowds, a large black Boeing stood, attracting the attention of the locals. Upon landing, it paused, awaiting its sole passenger.
The ramp was open, and a balding man of about forty stood next to it, awaiting the unexpected guest who had contacted him and was supposed to provide a new mission. After standing there for about ten minutes, the man heard the loud rumble of a motorcycle. Seeing the driver, the agent's body jerked. Sure, this guest was friendly, but he wasn't sure he was on good terms with her right now. When the motorcycle pulled up, Agent Coulson saw a woman in a tight-fitting black suit. Removing her helmet, she revealed a thick head of red hair. She smoothed her hair, grabbed a small duffel bag lying behind her, and headed for the ramp.
"Natasha." "Agent Coulson ," the smile that almost always played on Phil's face faded. The woman in front of him was one of the few he could call a friend, and seeing no joy at the meeting on the spy's face, he realized he wouldn't be forgiven for withholding information so easily.
"You have to understand, Director Fury kept the fact that I'm alive a closely guarded secret," he immediately tried to explain to one of the organization's top agents.
"I know what classified information is, I have a treasure trove of it myself... ugh!" Phil heard a few strong words directed at one of the Russians. "I'm just offended that you think I couldn't keep that secret." "I understand..." "Natasha!" a cheerful voice sounded from the depths of the plane. An Asian woman in a S.H.I.E.L.D. uniform emerged and warmly greeted her guest.
"Melinda, it's good to see you!" Phil was surprised to see two of the most dangerous women in the world simply hugging each other when they greeted, like old friends who hadn't seen each other in a long time. "Come on, I'll introduce you to everyone," the team leader said before the ramp had even closed when someone addressed him. " Coulson , be hospitable, and don't forget to bring the motorcycle inside."
Knowing this wasn't the time for argument, he went to retrieve the motorcycle, which was still on the runway.
"Eagle one, calling headquarters. We are approaching the target.
" "HQ is calling Eagle. The target will soon be in the kill zone. Order: destroy target on contact." "Order understood, we are executing." John Silver had been at the American military base since early morning, unaware that in a few hours he and other pilots would be sent on a mission to destroy aliens who, according to intelligence, had arrived to assess the earthlings' defenses.
Literally a couple of minutes later, the squadron dispatched on the mission spotted its target. The spacecraft, four times larger than a typical fighter, was rapidly gaining altitude, attempting to leave the planet's atmosphere. The pilots had a short window to destroy the target, otherwise it would become unreachable. The order was shoot to kill, so as soon as someone managed to lock on to the target, missiles were launched. The ship, rapidly gaining altitude, began to slow and maneuver to avoid impact. Only some of the missiles were successfully evaded. Several shells hit their targets, triggering the energy shields and sending the ship flying. "Don't stop! We need to finish off the target before it gets away!" Continuing to give commands, John recalled that the report he'd been given had already noted that air defenses against such single targets were weak due to their maneuverability. One or two fighters were useless, and it was lucky if they returned intact rather than shot down. All this forced command to send in entire flights. While some aircraft pursued, others began to bank, attempting to pincer the target.
The next salvo was ineffective due to the smaller number of missiles fired while the others maneuvered, and because the target began firing back with several cannons firing blue projectiles, targeting both the missiles and the fighters themselves.
An attempt to regain altitude for a target hostile to the Earthlings proved unsuccessful thanks to the pilot, who struck from above. Unfortunately, this cost the pilot his life, as he was hit by one of the plasma charges, inflicting the first casualties and leaving the team feeling unimpressed. The chase lasted several minutes, but to the pilots, it felt like an hour had passed. At one point, the pilot of the alien ship maneuvered, turned his craft 180 degrees, and began flying toward the fighters. "This is our chance! Open fire!" Another salvo of missiles launched, but only three out of ten hit their target. Fortunately, the energy shield couldn't withstand the strain and burst, allowing a finishing blow. All that remained was to turn the craft around, which was so unwieldy compared to the enemy. Unfortunately, the opportunity to deactivate the shield cost the lives of two more pilots. The remaining pilots dispersed, trying to intercept their target, which seemed to be mocking them, simply hovering in the air, awaiting a new attack. "They're just mocking us! Everyone, listen to me…" The pilots, seizing the moment, launched a new attack from all sides, firing missiles with a slight delay. The pilot of the alien ship had to look for an opportunity to evade such an attack, and although he was able to dodge the first volleys, the last ones still got him, hitting different sections of the ship, which led to an explosion in a large blue flame, visible even from the ground. "Yeeessss ! Well done everyone!" John congratulated his soldiers. "Headquarters, this is Eagle one, the target has been destroyed.
" "Well done, return to base, mission accomplished." "Yes, we are returning to base." Fortunately or unfortunately, the pilots, overjoyed after defeating the aliens, were kept ignorant of the real reason why the ship was leaving the planet.
A single lamp hanging from the ceiling illuminated the dark room. In a basement, such light would have been insufficient for work, but in this case, it was sufficient.
A man in a long-unwashed T-shirt and pants stood against the wall and looked at the latest victim caught in his net. A young, beautiful girl lay bound hand and foot. A gag was in her mouth, and her eyes scanned the room in panic. But she couldn't see anything except what the light bulb illuminated. "You think you can do anything?" The rough male voice that sounded in the room only increased her panic, and she began to frantically try to break free, but the knots were tightly tied, not allowing the long-awaited freedom. "You think that because you're beautiful, I should jump for you?" " Mmmmm …" the girl tried to say something when the man finally stepped into the light, but the gag prevented her from doing so.
The tears in her eyes only caused him to grin maliciously. His face was disfigured by a large burn. "You know, I can even understand you. Who would want to date a freak like me?" The girl looked at the man carefully, and judging by his words, she must have known him, but she couldn't recognize him because she was seeing him for the first time. She would remember such severe burns on a person. "But you could have explained it politely, instead of creating a scene where you publicly insulted me." The maniac didn't even look at his victim; it seemed as if he was accessing his own memories. It's a shame that someone else will bear responsibility for his pain. As he spoke, a rusty piece of iron appeared in one hand, and with the other he conjured a fireball and brought it to the end of the iron.
"But it's okay, soon we'll be alike, and then you won't have a choice," the girl's eyes couldn't open wider in horror when she realized why he was doing all this. She literally started to get hysterical, and she began to twitch even more, but the knots held her tight. Suddenly a hand fell on her chest, and she felt heat near her face. "Don't worry, when it's over, I'll take care of you," the girl's body froze, and her eyes carefully followed the red-hot object. "We will always be together." For a moment, when he moved the iron away from her face, she relaxed. "MMMMMM!" but instead, he rested it on her shoulder. The girl began to twitch violently from the terrible pain, but he held her tightly until he decided that it was enough for now, and a smile appeared on his face. " Mmmmm …
" "Don't worry." "When I'm done, you'll be mine," he gently ran his hand over the spot where the piece of burnt flesh had been. "You just have to live to see it, and then we'll be together forever, Oksana." After that, he began methodically applying the iron to the girl's beautiful face. "MMMMMMMMMMMM!" Suddenly, the door to the room was kicked down. "EVERYONE, DOWN, FACES ON THE FLOOR!" People in high-quality equipment with the wave symbol decisively burst into the room, where the victim's groans could be heard. "YOU CAN'T INTERFERE WITH ME!" Suddenly, the room was flooded with bright light, because the man literally became a living flamethrower and began pouring fire from both hands on the operatives who came to stop him. "I'M DOING THIS FOR LOVE, YOU BASTARDS!" A sharp stream of fire caught the first operative, but then their target was simply riddled with darts, and literally a second later, she passed out. "Tie him up! Medic, take care of the wounded!" After giving the commands, the team leader approached the girl, whose face was no longer as beautiful as it had been just a moment ago. "Don't worry, we'll help you." The girl, overcome with emotional shock, couldn't say anything and only continued to cry as she was untied and led out of the dungeon.
Watching through the glass, a striking blonde in a business suit watched as doctors attempted to save the life of a security officer who appeared to have escaped from a burning building. Most of his body was burned, and his clothes stuck to his wounds, preventing them from quickly rendering aid.
The door to the operating room swung open, and Maya Hensen ran in carrying a small briefcase. Quickly opening it, she removed a small injector containing a blue liquid. Approaching the burned man, she injected him with the entire contents of the syringe.
The patient's body began to glow faintly blue. The doctors hesitated for a moment, but at Dr. Hensen's command, they began literally cutting away chunks of skin, clothing included. Most astonishingly, the wounds began to heal before their eyes.
A few minutes later, the two of them were watching the doctors continue their work. "I didn't expect to see you here, Miss Sycheva." "I decided to personally see the results of your work, Miss Hansen ," the big boss's smile turned sly. "Considering my plans for them, I want to be absolutely sure there won't be any problems."
The scientist's face turned a little sad after hearing this, but a light push on the shoulder caught her attention. "I know you had imagined using your developments differently, but, unfortunately, releasing Extremis into the public domain will cause more problems than it will help. Therefore, we will maintain a monopoly on the serum and sell it only to those we decide, and at the price we ask."
"Do we have to make a weapon out of it?" Even though the scientist understood the stupidity of her question, a glimmer of hope still glimmered in her heart. "If necessary, anything can be used as a weapon. It all depends on the intentions."
The operation behind the glass continued. The man, who had recently been dying from multiple burns, was now in stable condition.
"I feel sorry for him, of course. Even Extremis can't completely help with that. He'll be disfigured for the rest of his life.
" "That means you still have work to do. Besides, I wouldn't be so sure about that," the blonde saw what she wanted and began checking her phone. "Yes, he'll have to walk around for a while, but then our hero will come and help him." "Can Alex also work as a plastic surgeon?" "Maybe not, but to increase his authority and reputation among his subordinates, he'll have to learn. Thank you for your work, Maya, but I have to go." Without waiting for an answer, the appointed head of the company, with a heavy sigh, headed off to another meeting.
A man entered the gymnasium through the opened doors; his aging frame made it difficult to move quickly.
"General, everything is ready for the tests," Dreykov said, nodding to the scientist, who followed the test subject. Before the test began, he retreated to a special room behind armored glass. Nearby, the general's confidants stood, discussing issues that could be resolved now that they were gathered. A familiar figure entered the prepared area of the gymnasium, attracting everyone's attention. Yelena Belova, in her Black Widow guise, did everything she was told. With a nearly blank stare, she approached a special block marked 250 kg, grabbed its handles, and managed to lift it, albeit with some effort. Everyone watching was amazed by her abilities, and the scientists took notes. Then, a dozen fighters with batons entered the room and stood around the short woman, clearly with ill intentions. After the test, many were very pleased with what they had seen. Even with normal dexterity, Yelena could have handled them with her skills, but now, these fighters simply scattered across the room with a single blow from her. Several would never rise again, but the onlookers didn't care. While the crowd discussed what they had seen, they didn't notice how the test subject briefly regained control, turned her gaze to the people behind the glass, and resolutely walked toward them. The first blow to the glass caught everyone's attention: what should have withstood high-caliber fire cracked under the blow of a woman's hand. The second blow alarmed everyone even more and caused those with weapons to draw them. While the people prepared to repel the Widow's attack, Dreykov himself stepped aside to avoid being hit by shards. The third blow gave way. For a few seconds, everyone watched the Widow, ready to attack, and then everyone opened fire. Dozens of shots should have left no living spot on her body, but when everyone ran out of ammunition, she continued to stand there as if nothing had happened. One might have thought that all the marksmen had missed, but the holes in her combat uniform confirmed a direct hit.
Entering the room, Elena was about to attack the first person she came across, but suddenly stopped abruptly. General Dreykov calmly approached her, and the spy's eyes dimmed again. "You have shown yourself well, agent," Dreykov carefully examined her for damage. "Go to the lab, let them check you, and then on schedule." "Yes, General," and with a graceful gait she went to carry out the order. Seeing the state of his subordinates, Dreykov was pleased. The panic in their eyes had not yet subsided, and he reaffirmed his position. "Now you understand what can happen if you don't do what I say. For now, this is the only specimen, but soon there will be more. Then we will be able to deal with all our enemies within the country and return it to its former greatness." Several bottles of champagne were opened to a roar of applause.