"What are you talking about?" Ross stared at Tony, both hands planted on the table. "Who isn't happy?"
Tony didn't answer. He simply looked toward the conference room door.
The hinges turned, and the double doors swung open.
Everyone's eyes fell on a young woman who walked slowly into the room.
She wore a light gray trench coat, her curly brown hair falling loosely over her shoulders, and held a cup of coffee that was still steaming.
"General Ross, it's been a while."
Hermione stopped, her gaze sweeping over the stiff-faced politicians on either side of the long table before settling on Ross at its head.
"Oh, sorry. I should call you Secretary of State now."
"No wonder. I was wondering how I could smell such self-important authority from two corridors away."
Ross's gaze fixed on her face, his pupils abruptly contracting. He had clearly recognized her.
"It's you!"
Hermione nodded. "So you do remember me, Mr. Ross. You're getting old, but at least your memory still works. That saves me another introduction."
Seeing her again sent memories surging uncontrollably from the depths of Ross's mind.
He still vividly remembered her effortlessly subduing Hulk and Abomination right in front of him, then summoning countless fire dragons.
In terms of sheer spectacle, the Chitauri invasion, the celestial convergence, and Hydra's Project Insight had all been bigger and more shocking, but he hadn't been there for any of them.
No number of reports could compare to having magic right in your face.
He hadn't slept a wink after going home that night.
Weren't they supposed to have locked her up at that Ministry of Magic? Or even executed her?
Those so-called experts were full of shit. When I get back, I'm having every last one of them court-martialed!
Ross pressed his hands