Total Assault

New York, a financial company on Wall Street.

Phil Coulson, a Level Seven S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, followed a blonde woman in a round-necked business suit and black patent-leather flats through the constantly bustling white-collar workers. The rapid clatter of keyboards and ringing phones rose and fell around them.

The woman led him into an empty private office and closed the door behind him. The nameplate read "Bill Walter," the owner of the office.

It was a brightly lit, elegantly furnished office. From the moment he entered, Agent Coulson put his professional instincts to work, sweeping his sharp, blade-like gaze inch by inch across the room without overlooking a single detail, like a well-trained hound trying to sniff out any suspicious scent.

But after roughly two minutes of observation, he had to admit one fact.

There did not seem to be the slightest thing in the office that could be called suspicious.

It looked entirely ordinary. Neatly organized stacks of documents sat on the desk, with a string of keys left in the desk lock. There was a potted plant on the windowsill and a cute seahorse ornament atop the filing cabinet. Medals Bill Walter had earned over the years hung on the wall. He appeared to have been a model employee.

Agent Coulson even found photographs on the cabinet of Bill Walter dining with colleagues and attending parties.

He turned to the woman beside him. "How long have you known Mr. Walter?"

The woman thought for a moment. "At least... two years, I think. Since he started working here. He keeps a low profile, but he's conscientious and responsible. He's often commended, and he's just a really nice guy. Everyone likes him."

After a pause, she asked uncertainly, "Has Mr. Walter gotten into some kind of trouble?"

"No, nothing like that, ma'am," Agent Coulson said politely. "He's connected to a case, but this is only a routine investigation. It's nothing serious."

After asking a few more simple questions, Agent Coulson took his leave. He returned to the ground floor, crossed the street, and got into the black Porsche parked by the curb.

He called Nick Fury.

"How did it go, Agent Coulson?" Fury asked.

"That identity you asked me to verify, Bill Walter? I checked his ID, driver's license, and diploma. All the information seemed flawless."

"Then I went to his office. Every one of his colleagues confirmed that he existed. One of them told me he'd worked there for two years. I didn't use any specialized equipment, but based on experience, I don't think she was lying."

"What about the people in the office?"

"Their identities were verified too. There doesn't seem to be any problem."

"So you believe Bill Walter's identity is clean?"

"From what I saw, sir? It's absolutely airtight," Coulson said. "To be frank, if everything connected to this identity was forged, then whoever created it is either an ultimate genius we've never heard of... or a magician who can bend reality."

"I understand."

"If I may ask, are you sure you don't need me to know who this Bill Walter really is?" Coulson asked.

"That's classified, Agent Coulson," Fury said. "Thank you for your help, but your assignment is over."

Nick Fury ended the call and sat in his office, frowning deeply as he pondered for some time.

A few hours earlier, the mysterious man codenamed Black Knight had finally been willing to crawl out of that pitch-black metal shell and meet him properly. Contrary to what Fury had imagined, the man inside the armor was a young man with a thick beard, around thirty or forty years old, dressed in the standard cheap suit of a white-collar worker.

He claimed his name was Bill Walter and said that this had been his cover identity ever since he left Hydra. Fury's elite agents had indeed just verified that identity. It seemed perfectly reasonable as well; as cover identities went, Bill Walter was certainly low-profile enough.

Then Mr. "Bill Walter" gave him another address, a warehouse on the outskirts of New York. The company that owned it had gone bankrupt several years ago, and the warehouse had been abandoned ever since. Walter said it had been his secret base all these years, where his equipment, technology, and armor were stored.

This Black Knight wore a high-tech combat suit all day long, so naturally he ought to have had a secret base. Fury had also dispatched a team of agents to investigate that location, and their findings matched the description. Bill Walter appeared to have shown complete sincerity. At least for the moment, even a master spy like Nick Fury could not find any flaw in the information he had provided.

What Fury did not know was that Michael had prepared far more than one fully detailed identity for himself. Every one of his identities had been designed to perfection, and each came with a different face. He had prepared digital masks for every identity in advance. Once he put on a mask, he instantly acquired a completely different identity.

So, strictly speaking, Michael had not lied to Fury. He really had revealed his identity—just one of them.

From now on, Fury could put "Bill Walter" on some S.H.I.E.L.D. watch list and monitor the accounts and movements of this nonexistent fictional person around the clock, without placing any burden on Michael's future actions.

As for whether Fury would choose to trust him this once, Michael was not particularly worried.

Because honestly, given the current situation and S.H.I.E.L.D.'s predicament, they probably did not have many options in this matter.

After thinking it over again and again, Fury sat up, picked up the phone, and dialed a number.

"This is Commander Fury. Notify the Council," he said. "I have something important to discuss."

One hour later, aboard the Helicarrier, nine thousand meters above the ground.

Nick Fury stood in the center of the room with his hands behind his back, his expression blank. Senior figures from the World Security Council surrounded him through three suspended displays.

Very unusually, the three representatives remained silent for a full thirty seconds. During this time, they had repeatedly pressured the Black director, using every method they could to force him to explain what exactly he had been concealing. Yet now that Fury had finally laid everything bare, none of them seemed prepared to face the truth.

Fury did not urge them to speak. He simply stood there with his hands behind his back, patiently waiting for them to process the enormous amount of information. In the dark, sealed room, one could have heard a pin drop. Only the rise and fall of breathing came through the surround speakers.

After a long while, one representative spoke uncertainly. "Director Fury, let me make sure I understand. You're telling us that Hydra—not some other Hydra, but the terrorist organization that barely survived World War II—still exists today. And that it has been lurking within S.H.I.E.L.D. throughout the past century?"

"That is more or less correct," Fury said evenly.

"And during that past century, it has already become part of S.H.I.E.L.D.? They have infiltrated every aspect of S.H.I.E.L.D., and even former S.H.I.E.L.D. commander Alexander Pierce was one of them?" The representative emphasized his next words. "Do you realize how absurd that sounds?"

"I stand by every word I said," Fury replied.

"If this is true, I'm afraid it goes beyond what you can be held responsible for, Director Fury." The representative's tone carried obvious censure. "That would mean Hydra spies have been hidden throughout your department for all these years, while you, as its commander, knew absolutely nothing?"

"We have expressed our extreme dissatisfaction with your tiered secrecy system more than once, Director Fury," another Council representative snapped. "I personally have repeatedly stressed the importance of a transparent management system. If you had not been so stubborn and had adopted those recommendations earlier, matters would never have reached this point."

"And saying that now is meaningless," Fury said coldly. "What matters now is solving the problem."

"You mean deploying all of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s forces to simultaneously seize multiple facilities suspected of being enemy strongholds?" A Council representative shook his head. "But you cannot even reveal your source. A decision of this scale must be made cautiously. We can't just—"

"You seem to have misunderstood something, gentlemen," Fury interrupted. "Through our recent encounters, our understanding of Hydra has deepened, and I have increasingly come to realize just how unfathomable this organization truly is."

"It would not be an exaggeration to say that Hydra has genuinely infiltrated every aspect of the world. Their shadow can be found in every country, region, and organization. Personally, I cannot even completely rule out the possibility that Hydra spies are mixed into the World Security Council itself."

Before he had even finished speaking, the Council representatives could no longer sit still. They began denouncing him with words like "absurd" and "nonsense."

Fury ignored their reactions and continued. "This is a decisive battle that will determine the final outcome between us and Hydra. Secrecy is of the utmost importance. So you see, I am not here trying to ask for your permission. Even as I stand here wasting words with you—"

He paused, his right eye flashing with the fierce gaze of a hunting Falcon.

"The operation has already begun."

As this conversation was taking place, the Hydra strongholds Michael had listed came under fierce assault almost simultaneously.

Long-range missiles opened the battle. Powerful modern weapons rained down from the sky, bringing billowing smoke and searing flames.

Then came the Quinjets. S.H.I.E.L.D.'s advanced aircraft did not disengage their cloaking until they were nearly directly above the enemy, mercilessly pouring fire down upon them. The fighter jets, laser tanks, and other heavy weapons inside the attacked Hydra facilities were blown to pieces before they could even be activated. Before the two sides had even clashed, more than half of Hydra's combat strength had already been lost.

Only after the overwhelming firepower had nearly destroyed half the bases' facilities were S.H.I.E.L.D.'s elite assault teams sent in. By then, however, the outcome had essentially been decided. Their task was merely to hunt down stragglers and secure the situation.

Every team was directly commanded by officers personally appointed by Fury. Every one of those commanders was a trusted subordinate whose clean identity had been rigorously verified by Fury himself. Beyond that, not a single S.H.I.E.L.D. agent involved in the operation knew the mission's contents, and every squad within each team was informed of its duties only after arriving on site.

No one involved in the operation knew the full picture. That way, no one could leak it—this was Nick Fury's way of doing things.

Reports of victory returned to headquarters one after another. Within a single hour, the final battle was declared over. By then, most of Hydra's carefully concealed top-level branches had been completely destroyed, and three top-level Leaders had been killed on the spot.

The final battle had only just begun, yet it had already reached its end.