"USS George H.W. Bush encountered a storm at sea during independent launch and landing training?" Nick Fury looked at the TV news in the display window and curled his lip disdainfully. That earthquake, tsunami, and colossal storm had brought countless human tragedies, but they had also brought even more filth. Nick Fury knew how expensive the Pentagon's hush money was, but in order to curb the nearly out-of-control inflation, the outgoing president had originally intended to dump the matter on the next administration. Now, under pressure from party donors, the Federal Reserve, and the upcoming disaster relief bill, he had no choice but to submit legislation to save Wall Street—just like after 9/11. The stock market, the reservoir for most of the overissued dollars, had nearly collapsed. If the media learned that the USS George H.W. Bush had been sunk by another nation's military, then the Military-Industrial Complex built on maritime supremacy, along with the Financial Hegemony attached to it, would be finished.
A covert reconciliation with Latveria was imperative. No matter what, they had to recover the carrier wreckage and secretly destroy it. Only the Department of Homeland Security under the Ministry of Defence and the CIA under the federal government could carry out this task. Its classification level was on par with Kennedy's death; no future president would have the nerve to declassify it. Latveria also happened to be willing to reconcile, since the Latverian regent needed time to resolve internal conflicts, digest the newly acquired territory, and restore the economy and productive capacity.
"I'm here, Agent Hill," Nick Fury said. "Any news?"
"Would it count as news if your boss hasn't shown up in Latveria or Oxford University for days?" Agent Hill's voice was full of irritation. "The Sacred Guard has a secret operation concerning the detailed