Scouting the Manhattan Coordinates and the Stability Maintenance Office's Perimeter Deployment
On the light screen, the string of physical coordinates, accurate to six decimal places, flickered quietly.
It stared at Lynn behind the desk like a cold eye.
Manhattan.
A place name that is all too familiar. But when it is peeled away in this way from the body of a TVA agent and a dusty secret file, it takes on a dangerous aura.
Lynn's fingers tapped lightly on the Obsidian tabletop, one tap after another.
The pace was slow, yet an invisible pressure permeated the spacious office.
Go directly?
The lesson of the Clock Shop is still fresh in everyone's mind. Hela's first commando unit was completely wiped off the Timeline, leaving not a ripple.
That place can't be opened by brute force.
This new coordinate system will only make things more complicated.
Lynn stopped tapping her fingers.
He pressed an Internal Communications button on the table.
"Sir."
Hela's voice came through the Communicator, devoid of emotion, but speaking slightly faster than usual. She was still brooding over the previous suspension and written self-criticism.
"How many mobile forces does the Stability Maintenance Office have available for deployment in downtown New York City?" Lynn asked calmly.
There was a two-second silence on the other end of the Communicator.
"The first and third assault teams are ready to move at any time. The main force of the Undead Legion is in a dormant state, but can complete assembly within an hour." Hela's answer was standard, as if she were reporting on combat readiness.
We don't need that many people.
Lynn pushed the coordinates on the light screen to Hela's terminal.
"I want you to fence off this area."
"Understood. Mission level? Objective?" Hela's voice held a hint of barely perceptible excitement. To her, action meant opportunity.
"No mission level, no objective." Lynn interrupted her, "There's only one requirement: maintain perimeter control, and absolutely no alerting the enemy."
Hela's soft breathing could be heard through the Communicator.
Clearly, she was puzzled and even dissatisfied with the order. Just surround it?
"Sir, if it's just a perimeter control operation..."
"Do I need to explain my orders?" Lynn's voice turned cold.
"... No need." Hela's voice was tense. "I'll arrange it right away."
"Wait a minute," Lynn called out to her, "This operation will not be carried out in the name of the Stability Maintenance Office."
Hela fell completely silent.
She didn't understand. Stability Maintenance Office wasn't carrying out its mission in its own name, then in what name?
Lynn looked out the window at the Eternity gray sky in the Negative Zone and slowly said, "The Liaison Office will coordinate with the New York Mayor's Office to issue a notice under the guise of a ' Municipal Fire Safety Joint Exercise.' The Stability Maintenance Office personnel will change into NYPD and FDNY uniforms and, citing aging wiring and significant fire hazards in this area, temporarily close off three blocks surrounding the target and evacuate people."
"City Fire Drill"
The words, spoken by Lynn, were as casual as if he were discussing the weather.
But Hela instantly understood the significance behind it.
Using secular administrative means to block off a potential supernatural location.
To carry out a top-level secret operation using a procedure that is completely in accordance with the rules of the mortal world.
This contrast creates a chilling sense of oppression. It means that Lynn's control has permeated every capillary of this world.
"My people aren't used to doing this kind of thing." Hela's tone held a final resistance. To have Asgard Undead Warriors impersonate firefighters was an insult.
"Then let them get used to it." Lynn's tone left no room for argument. "Director Hela, the work of the Stability Maintenance Office is not just about fighting, but more importantly, maintaining stability. Learning to operate according to the rules is a lesson you must learn."
"You will personally lead this operation. Remember, I only want one result: the target area must be an impenetrable Iron Bucket, so impenetrable that not even a fly can get in. Without my further instructions, no one, for any reason, is permitted to set foot inside the building at the target coordinates."
"Yes, sir."
Communication was cut off.
Lynn leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes.
He could imagine Hela's expression at that moment: anger, resentment, yet a sense of obligation to obey.
But he had to do it.
A rule that even Clock Shop could trap her could cause the loss of a group of elite, reckless generals; if she wasn't reined in, things would only get worse.
This time, he will personally hold the rope.
One hour later.
New York, Manhattan.
The coordinates point to an unassuming Community Library.
The old red brick exterior walls had a sign that read "Closed on Tuesdays" hanging at the entrance. On the surrounding streets, several fire trucks with FDNY (New York City Fire Department) markings and NYPD police cars flashed their lights and stretched out long yellow warning tape.
Several uniformed "police officers" were knocking on doors, politely asking residents to temporarily evacuate outside the restricted area under the pretext of "gas pipeline leak risk investigation".
Everything seemed orderly and reasonable.
No one found it strange. In such an old neighborhood, it's perfectly normal for problems like aging wiring and leaking pipes to occur.
Hela, dressed in a well-tailored black trench coat, stood on the rooftop of a building at the edge of the restricted area, watching everything with a blank expression.
She wasn't wearing her signature crown of thorns; her long, dark green hair was casually draped over her shoulders, and her eyes were colder than the autumn wind in New York.
She hated this feeling.
Like a puppet, she was being manipulated by Lynn with invisible threads of rules.
Her most elite Undead Centurion, dressed in a bulky firefighter uniform, was leading an "exploration team" with various "professional equipment" to conduct a thorough "security check" around the library.
"Director."
A Undead Centurion, also dressed in a black trench coat, appeared silently behind her.
"Have you found anything?" Hela asked without turning her head.
"There are no signs of life inside the building. But..." the Centurion paused, "We detected a high-intensity energy shield in the underground area."
Hela turned around, her brows slightly furrowed.
"High intensity?"
"Yes," the Centurion's voice was deep. "Its structure is very special; it's not a simple physical or energy barrier, but more like a... rule-based 'rejection.' Any probe wave we send, once it touches it, will be directly 'defined' as non-existent."
"Recruit the energy frequency characteristics," Hela commanded.
The Centurion raised his wrist, and a miniature Holographic Projection device unfolded on the back of his hand, projecting a constantly fluctuating energy spectrum.
It was an extremely stable waveform, yet it carried a certain destructive aura.
Hela's pupils suddenly contracted.
She was very familiar with this frequency.
Just recently, in the detention room of the Abandoned Subway Station 14-B, the energy fluctuations released by the self-destruct program in her body when the woman named B-15 committed suicide were at this frequency.
Exactly the same.