Soon after receiving the Ancient One's two carefully selected magical gifts, after expressing appropriate gratitude and finalizing various tactical discussions, Nolan returned to the underground base facility through the shimmering golden portal that tore reality like fabric.
The transition from Kamar-Taj's thin mountain air to the underground base's recycled atmosphere felt jarring. His lungs adjusted to the change in oxygen content within seconds, enhanced physiology compensating automatically.
Before stepping completely through and allowing the portal to collapse behind him, Nolan turned back toward where Wong stood framed in the mystical doorway. The Master of Mystic Arts watched his departure with that characteristic silly smile.
"Wong," Nolan called back through the dimensional gateway, his voice carrying clearly despite the miles and realities separating them. "Try to take good care of Strange during his apprenticeship. He's... fragile right now, mentally speaking. Keep him focused on training rather than dwelling on trauma."
Wong nodded understanding, his expression shifting to something more serious as he acknowledged the responsibility.
"I will ensure he receives proper guidance and support, Mr. Nolan. You have my word."
The portal collapsed then, golden light folding in on itself until nothing remained but empty air and the faint scent of ozone.
In truth, the primary reason Nolan had so deliberately guided Stephen Strange toward the path he should rightfully take, steering him toward Kamar-Taj rather than allowing him to spiral further into psychological collapse, was entirely pragmatic rather than charitable.
Nolan currently had no helpers, no subordinates or allies, who were genuinely proficient in psionic power or other mystical spell-casting. His organization was heavily weighted toward technology and direct physical combat. The supernatural remained a significant gap in his operational capabilities.
And the frequent supernatural events plaguing the local area with increasing regularity, combined with the dimensional demons and cosmic threats constantly eyeing Earth's reality from the depths of the universe, forced Nolan to prioritize construction of a proper think tank team. Psykers, sorcerers, individuals who could address threats that bullets and blades couldn't touch.
Of course, if Strange's recruitment represented an unexpected windfall, a valuable asset gained through fortunate timing, then the subtle influence Nolan had been exerting on Mordo was also gradually fermenting in promising ways. Perhaps an even greater strategic victory would emerge from that patient cultivation.
Nolan stood in the base hall, gripping 'Frost Fang' firmly in his palm. The double-bladed axe felt perfect, weight distribution exactly matching muscle memory from simulation. He stared at the space where the portal had gradually dissipated, watching the last golden sparks fade into nothing.
He turned his head as David approached, the Man of Iron's metal frame moving with its characteristic slight forward hunch.
"In fact," Nolan said thoughtfully, speaking his strategic considerations aloud, "my requirements for the think tank team aren't particularly high or complex. As long as they can open portals reliably anywhere and anytime, that alone would prove invaluable."
His eyes gleamed with tactical possibilities.
"Imagine how operationally wonderful it would be to command a powerful army capable of descending anywhere on the planet within minutes. Instantaneous global response. No advance positioning required, no vulnerable supply lines to protect. Just direct insertion wherever force is needed most."
"My Lord," David responded in his measured mechanical voice, blue light flashing in his optical sensors with what might have been approval. "Your strategic vision will eventually become reality. I have confidence in this projection."
The Man of Iron shook his metal head slightly in what had become his characteristic gesture, then continued speaking after that small flourish of flattery.
"During the time you were absent visiting Kamar-Taj, the brainwashing program targeting the captured operative Magnum has been quickly completed and executed. The procedure ran its full course without significant technical complications."
David paused, his posture shifting in a way that suggested he was preparing to deliver less positive news.
"However, due to the incomplete nature of the brainwashing device Reditus constructed, combined with inherent defects in the technology itself that we didn't identify during initial testing, our experimental subject has temporarily encountered some minor complications."
Hearing David's carefully phrased brief report, Nolan's grip tightened slightly on the double-bladed axe he still held. His expression shifted to a slight frown, eyebrows drawing together with concern.
He asked in a tone that mixed puzzlement with growing apprehension about what "minor complications" might actually mean when dealing with Reditus's experimental technology.
"Minor problems? David, please elaborate. What strange situation has occurred with Reditus's brainwashing device? Be specific about the complications."
"My Lord, in the overall assessment, this genuinely is merely a small operational setback rather than complete failure." David's tone carried reassurance that didn't quite match the content of his explanation. "The device successfully achieved its primary objective of ensuring loyalty and compliance."
He paused, then continued with clinical detachment.
"The brainwashed subject Magnum now suffers from significant brain memory damage. His intelligence level has regressed substantially, currently functioning at approximately the cognitive level of a young child around six or seven years old. Basic comprehension and simple task execution remain intact, but complex reasoning has been compromised."
David's optical sensors dimmed slightly.
"Additionally, he has temporarily lost the conscious ability to restore his human form, remaining perpetually in his elemental mud state. Whether this represents permanent damage or simply requires time and practice to overcome remains uncertain."
The Man of Iron's tone shifted to something almost optimistic.
"The advantages, however, prove notable. Magnum has become extremely obedient and eager to please authority figures. More significantly, his power to control earth elemental forces appears to have strengthened considerably during the procedure, perhaps because mental limitations no longer constrain instinctive abilities."
David tilted his head.
"If we need him to perform excavation work or earth manipulation tasks, he executes commands smoothly and enthusiastically as long as he receives payment in the form of candy. Simple sugar-based confections appear to be his primary motivation now."
Nolan raised his eyebrows reflexively, surprise and resignation warring in his expression. He couldn't help but shake his head slowly, releasing a long sigh that carried both frustration and dark amusement.
"Well then," he muttered with ironic acceptance, "this time I've completely transformed a dangerous operative into a literal tool. A candy-motivated construction worker with the mind of a child."
His tone grew more philosophical, almost talking to himself.
"Besides, the entire concept of relying exclusively on Reditus to blindly develop something as sophisticated as a proper knowledge crown or neural modification device was fundamentally unreliable from the beginning. The servo skull lacks the theoretical foundation for true innovation in that field."
Nolan waved one hand dismissively.
"Forget about similar advanced mechanical creations for now. We should wait until I can salvage proper examples and blueprints from the space hulk I'm planning to extract. The Tempestus battle barge's wreckage might contain actual Mechanicus knowledge worth studying."
David, blue light continuing to flash steadily in his optical sensors, nodded slightly in acknowledgment of this revised strategic priority.
He was about to continue discussing other matters requiring Nolan's attention and decision when his words were completely interrupted by an approaching burst of delighted, childish laughter.
"Ha ha ha! Come on! Come chase me!" Jessica's voice rang through the corridors with uncharacteristic playfulness. "Faster! You can do it!"
At this moment, Jessica, still encased in her Battle Sister power armor that added bulk and height to her frame, suddenly flew past directly in front of where Nolan and David stood. Her anti-gravity generators hummed with exertion.
She remained suspended in mid-air, twisting backward to throw handfuls of colorful wrapped candies toward something following behind her. The confections scattered through the air like rainbow hail, bouncing across the metal floor with soft pinging sounds.
The next second revealed her pursuer.
A large amorphous blob of brown mud that resembled nothing so much as a slime monster from video games slowly oozed out of the underground passage. The mass moved forward under constant encouragement from Jessica's power-armored gauntlet, which she waved in beckoning gestures.
The mud creature periodically opened what might generously be called a mouth: a dark, empty cavity within the brown substance. It stretched the opening wide, trying desperately to catch the many candies that fell just beyond its reach. Each near-miss seemed to renew its determination, the blob surging forward with fresh enthusiasm.
Nolan's immediate instinct was to scold Jessica severely for this undignified behavior. His eyes widened in preparation to deliver a sharp rebuke about professionalism and appropriate treatment of assets.
But then, feeling the vibrant atmosphere they were creating, sensing one of the few genuinely lighthearted moments in an entire base facility otherwise consumed with constant tension and urgent relocation preparations, he temporarily extinguished the impulse to educate her about proper conduct.
Sometimes morale mattered more than rigid discipline. Jessica's laughter and the mud-creature's simple-minded pursuit of candy represented a release valve for stress that everyone desperately needed.
Nolan deliberately ignored Jessica's continued troublemaking, pointedly looking away from where she now swooped in circles while the mud-blob spun trying to track her movements.
His attention returned fully to David standing patiently beside him. He asked in a softer voice, refocusing on operational necessities.
"David, how is the overall relocation plan for the base progressing? Give me a comprehensive status update."
"My Lord, the operation proceeds ahead of schedule." David's tone carried satisfaction at efficient execution. "All varieties of materials, weapons stockpiles, and equipment have been fundamentally loaded onto the two large cargo ships we've chartered through Empire Heavy Industries shell companies. Those vessels are currently en route to the Twin Islands location at standard commercial speed to avoid drawing attention."
He paused, accessing relevant data.
"The interior cargo holds are firmly guarded by two-thirds of the Intelligent Control Corps. Except for absolutely necessary human technicians who understand the equipment being transported, the entire crew complement has been replaced by Gang Dogs recruited from coastal operations. Individuals with maritime experience and absolute loyalty."
David's optical sensors brightened.
"What remains to be loaded consists primarily of the foundry workshop's production lines and the large forge equipment. Those represent the items Reditus specifically demanded we transport intact rather than disassemble. The servo skull was quite adamant about this, apparently concerned that reassembly might compromise calibration."
A slight mechanical sigh seemed to emanate from David's vocalizer.
"At the current pace, barring unexpected complications, the entire underground base will be completely cleaned out and ready for abandonment within three days maximum."
His tone shifted to discussing the destination.
"The construction progress at the Twin Islands base location also proceeds relatively smoothly. The prototype excavation for the first primary structure has been completely finished, creating a foundation chamber approximately two hundred meters across and fifty meters deep."
David gestured vaguely eastward, as if indicating the distant location.
"The remaining work consists primarily of reinforcement, weatherproofing, and interior finishing. Minor but time-consuming tasks. If we add the earth-manipulating capabilities of the brainwashed Magnum to the construction effort, the excavation progress for additional chambers and the planned foundry complex could be dramatically accelerated. His powers are ideally suited for such work."
At this moment, Nolan, who had been listening with focused attention to every detail of David's comprehensive report, nodded slowly in acknowledgment. Information processed, priorities adjusted.
He suddenly lowered his head in contemplation for several seconds, weighing options against time constraints. Then he issued new orders to David with decisive clarity.
"David, retrieve and activate the new prototype Valkyrie transport from the vehicle bay. I want to personally inspect the new base facility's progress and current state. Bring Magnum along as well; I'll evaluate his capabilities directly."
Nolan turned his head, raising his voice to carry across the hall toward where Jessica continued her aerial candy-throwing game.
"Jessica! Stop playing around and listen up! Lead Magnum to the landing platform immediately. We're taking a flight to the new base location!"
Approximately half an hour later, after Jessica had corralled the enthusiastic mud-blob and guided it through corridors toward the launch facility, the new model Valkyrie transport sat idling on the platform. Its vector engines emitted a low, steady roar that vibrated through the floor, the sound a bass rumble that resonated in chest cavities.
The aircraft slowly rose toward the entrance and exit point at the base's surface access. Hydraulics whined with effort as the heavy vehicle lifted smoothly.
After the reinforced ceiling panels above the landing platform completely retracted, sliding aside on well-maintained tracks to reveal gray sky overhead, the metal-shelled black flying vehicle began its ascent properly.
The craft gradually activated its optical camouflage system mid-rise. The cloaking device engaged with a subtle shimmer, light-bending technology wrapping around the hull like invisible fabric. Within seconds, the entire aircraft had faded from visible spectrum, becoming effectively transparent.
The now-invisible Valkyrie quickly accelerated upward, rising to higher altitude and completely disappearing above the cloud layer. Only the faint displacement of air and a barely perceptible engine hum betrayed its passage.
At precisely this moment, in a hidden observation room located on the extreme edge of Manhattan Island, positioned to provide optimal sightlines across a significant portion of the city's infrastructure, a woman with long red hair suddenly shifted her telescope's viewing direction.
Natasha Romanoff, also known as Black Widow, one of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s most experienced field operatives, had been conducting routine surveillance when something caught her attention. An anomaly in air patterns, a distortion that shouldn't exist.
She repeatedly adjusted focus, tracking the position where the invisible Valkyrie had just risen from what appeared to be empty ground. Her trained eye caught the telltale signs: disturbed air currents, the faint shimmer of cloaking technology, the displacement of atmospheric moisture.
Not long after those initial observations, after confirming what her instincts were screaming at her, Natasha slowly lowered the telescope from her face. She set the equipment down carefully on the table beside her observation post.
She murmured to herself, voice quiet but intense with growing concern.
"Why don't I remember S.H.I.E.L.D. having any Quinjet fighters deployed in New York City's airspace? Our flight manifests don't show any authorized operations in this sector today."
Her mind worked through possibilities with practiced speed.
"If it's not S.H.I.E.L.D. conducting covert operations without informing field teams..." Her expression hardened with sudden realization. "Could this be a facility arranged and operated by Hydra? A secret base right here in Manhattan?"
Thinking through that disturbing possibility, considering the implications of a hidden Hydra installation operating beneath everyone's awareness, Natasha's expression transformed. Her face became much more serious, all traces of casual observation vanishing as combat readiness asserted itself.
She immediately turned on her heel and walked swiftly toward the room's exit, movements efficient and purposeful.
Accompanied by a slight mechanical sound, the originally closed door opened quickly as she disengaged the lock.
Natasha emerged into the larger space beyond, finding herself facing a substantial group of S.H.I.E.L.D. agents sitting in various states of readiness. Some cleaned weapons. Others reviewed tactical maps. A few simply waited with the patience born of extensive field experience.
Her eyes scanned across the assembled personnel, finally locating the specific individual she sought.
Among the crowd sat a tall figure wearing a distinctive dark blue combat uniform, the colors somehow managing to look both modern and nostalgically patriotic. The man's broad shoulders and perfect posture were unmistakable even from behind.
He carefully wiped a round shield with a cloth, the polished surface gleaming under fluorescent lighting. The circular weapon bore red, white, and blue concentric rings that caught light like a beacon.
"Captain!" Natasha called out sharply, her voice cutting through the low ambient conversation. "I have a situation requiring immediate attention!"
Steve Rogers, Captain America himself, turned his head at her tone. His angular face, all strong jaw and honest eyes, registered immediate alertness.
"The operatives from Leviathan we've been tracking haven't been located yet," Natasha continued quickly, crossing the space toward him. "But I seem to have accidentally discovered something potentially more significant. A secret base using advanced cloaking technology, possibly Hydra, operating right under our noses! Less than five kilometers from our current position!"
"Oh?" Steve's expression shifted, surprise mixing with something that looked almost like eager anticipation. A fleeting excitement crossed his features before professional focus reasserted control. "There's such a coincidence? Intelligence falling directly into our laps?"
He stood smoothly, muscles moving with the efficiency of someone in absolute peak physical condition. When he turned his neck, the motion revealed that characteristic strong profile.
Steve's voice rose to address the entire assembled team, authority and confidence radiating from every word.
"Did everyone hear that? Pack up your weapons and equipment as quickly as possible. We're moving out immediately for assault operations."
He reached down and hefted his shield with one hand, the star in its center seeming to gleam brighter with purpose.
"Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.," Captain America declared with absolute conviction, his voice carrying the weight of decades defending freedom, "follow me! We have a Hydra nest to clean out!"