"Understood, Director," Natasha's voice was steady and strong. "I will infiltrate like a shadow and ensure the investigative path is detected by no one. Operation is commencing immediately."
She gave a slight nod, turned, and left, her footsteps as silent as ever.
Fury watched her retreating back, then irritably grabbed his coffee cup and took a large swallow. The bitter taste spread across his tongue. He had thought he'd stumbled upon a gold mine, but it seemed a cunning viper might already be lurking in the pit.
Natasha's "discovery," though based only on a similarity, felt like a thorn in his side. It forced him to choose the most conservative, slowest, but possibly safest route: his most elite and cautious agent, Natasha, acting alone like a ghost.
Natasha exited 'The Cube's' maximum isolation zone. In an empty corridor, the micro-device on the inside of her wrist gave a confirmation signal: [Done.]
Upon receiving the message from Natasha, Hawk's eyes widened with a hint of admiration.
That fast? No wonder she's the Black Widow!
Two hours flowed past in the city night.
Hawk hadn't simply waited around. With their energy restored and the passion still lingering, he and Emily had again indulged in the waves of pleasure they brought to each other.
As Emily fell into a deep, contented sleep once more, the encrypted satellite phone on the bedside table vibrated, perfectly timed.
Hawk quietly rose, walked to the window, and answered the call.
"Time for the customer satisfaction survey, little Hawk." Cipher's voice held a touch of weariness, but the laziness remained. "Your 'shopping list' has been packaged and dropped into your secure cloud."
Hawk immediately picked up his tablet and logged into the cloud.
A breathtakingly detailed manifest instantly appeared: Seven legal factories, two secret factories, four legal labs, and three secret underground research facilities for TCRI within the US. It included precise coordinates, satellite image overlays, key personnel and their background networks, codenames and brief descriptions of active projects, security level assessments, and even estimated patrol shift change times... Cipher's intelligence capability was terrifying. This 'assignment' had far exceeded expectations.
"Well? Are you satisfied with your teacher's efficiency and quality?" Cipher's voice carried a touch of self-praise. The faint clinking of a glass, as if she were rewarding herself, was heard in the background.
Hawk's eyes scanned a description of the "Sentinel-grade" security measures for an underground research facility. A satisfied curve lifted the corner of his mouth.
"Precise, efficient, and far deeper than expected. Cipher, your work," he paused, his voice low and certain, "is, as always... perfect! Flawless!"
He used the term of highest praise in that specific circle.
"Flawless?" Cipher chuckled on the other end of the phone, like a cat being scratched in just the right spot. "I like that review. You know, little Hawk, it's 3:47 AM—my beauty sleep time."
She deliberately drew out the final word. "Perfect work deserves perfect compensation. Half a million is the base rate. What about overtime? What about emotional distress compensation? My beauty is priceless, after all."
Hawk could almost picture her lounging on a luxurious sofa, swirling a glass of wine, her eyes shrewd.
He relaxed, leaning back against the cool window glass, his voice taking on a rare lightness and teasing quality:
"Beautiful Madam Cipher, your face is enough to make the stars dim; staying up late only adds a touch of dangerous allure. As for the overtime..." He paused deliberately. "I thought the 'Flawless' review I just gave was the highest level of spiritual comfort? Or are you expecting me to express my gratitude in a different... more 'personal' way?"
A tiny gasp was heard on the other end, followed by Cipher's voice, laced with dangerous amusement: "Oh? A different way? Do tell, little Hawk. Three years later, you're not only gutsy, but your tongue is slicker, too? I'm eager to see what new tricks does the grown-up King have?"
"New tricks take time to prepare, Cipher. I guarantee you'll get your 'money's worth.'" Hawk ultimately pulled back from the overly risky probing, but the warmth in his tone hadn't entirely cooled. "Keep the line open, and wait for my signal. This 'manifest' is just the beginning."
"Hmph, you little tease." Cipher gave a soft snort, a hint of unfulfilled regret in her lazy tone. "Fine. Considering your rather sincere compliment, the overtime is noted as an outstanding tab. Remember, you owe me a personal 'perfect service' feedback. Next time you call, I hope it's not 3 AM."
She cleanly cut the communication without waiting for Hawk's reply.
Silence returned to the room, broken only by Emily's even breathing.
Hawk set down the cold satellite phone, his eyes sharpening back into an eagle's gaze. He scrolled through the priceless manifest once more—valued at half a million dollars plus one outstanding favor—and the outline and weaknesses of TCRI became crystal clear in his mind.
The morning sun streamed through the enormous floor-to-ceiling windows, illuminating the Lane Group Chairman's office in the heart of Manhattan. The air was thick with the rich aroma of premium coffee beans.
Hawk, clad in a perfectly tailored dark suit, sat in the main chair.
In front of his desk sat two women with commanding presences.
To his left was the Lane Group CEO, Andy. She was dressed in sharp trousers today, rapidly flipping through her tablet, which displayed complex financial data and market analysis reports.
To his right was the incoming Lane Capital CEO, Emilia. She looked vastly different from her professor persona at Columbia University, wearing a custom-tailored off-white suit, her blonde hair pinned up to reveal the elegant line of her neck and a pair of strikingly designed diamond earrings.
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