In the dimly lit room.
Hydra's leaders gathered once more through projections.
Unlike last time, when the atmosphere had been tense and everyone had seemed like gasoline barrels ready to ignite.
At this moment, everyone present was silent.
They sat around the table.
Staring at the stretch of tabletop between their hands.
They simply could not understand it.
Just a few days ago, they had been drinking champagne, holding slender waists, and discussing grand ambitions.
Why had only a few nights passed?
Yet Hydra, which had once lurked beneath the surface of the world like a shadow.
Had become a universally reviled rat crossing the street.
"Who exactly is the traitor?" Baron Strucker clenched his hands tightly, his face several shades more sallow than it had been yesterday.
"Who the traitor is, or whether there even is one, is no longer important." Pierce's voice was low.
"All the leaders have already been exposed."
"Either we cut off an arm to survive, using everyone's lives to ensure the rebirth of new heads for the Hydra in the future."
"Or we go to war! We seize the world with guns and cannons!"
Pierce snarled the word "war" from his throat, his stance unmistakably clear and direct.
"War? Now?" Madame Hydra froze. "But the Insight Plan is only one-fifth complete. How are we supposed to fight?"
"Fighting is simple."
Pierce tapped the tabletop. "However Schmidt fought seventy years ago, that's how we'll fight!"
He had already devised the battle plan.
"On each of the three Helicarriers, I had ten hydrogen bombs installed. Now it's time to put them to use!"
"We can have Rumlow and the others use the carriers and hydrogen bombs to tie down the world."
"Meanwhile, we'll take the Middle East."
"The Middle East is a powder keg. We have