The Agents' Tricks
As expected, when the wreck of a car—one its owner probably could not even be bothered to insure—slowly approached the checkpoint a hundred meters before the chain-link gate, several soldiers in desert camouflage moved in from both sides in a pincer formation, rifles raised, their muzzles deliberately or casually aimed at the driver's seat and rear seat. Doctor Banner knew he would not need to produce the fake identification.
They had recognized them. They knew what kind of monster he could become. He could never forget the destruction and casualties Abomination and he had caused in New York. Doctor Banner gave the soldiers a placating smile, and that sickening sense of inferiority rose to the back of his throat again. Six Ph.D.s could not make him overlook his own flaws. He was so nervous he felt like vomiting, shrinking into himself until he nearly disappeared. Every trace of his personality seemed to contract inside the cab. He gripped the steering wheel tightly, as though gripping the helm of a runaway sailboat, desperately fighting a storm with nothing but human strength.
If not for Hulk, he had always been a gentle man. So gentle that he had been unable to refuse when someone suddenly came to him and asked him to carry out this deadly espionage mission, one completely unsuited to him, and then form an alliance solely to oppose someone—Doctor Banner realized he could not remember that person's name or face. The feeling was awful. Whenever he tried to recall that person's name or appearance, all he felt was pain, as if a red-hot steel nail had been driven into his brain. The memories connected to that person contained only a blurred, dazzlingly pure light. He had once tried writing down the name or recording a video