S.H.I.E.L.D.. Triskelion
Hawkeye waited all afternoon in the technical department until the analyst finally took off his headphones.
"Found it." The analyst turned the screen around, displaying an enlarged rubbing of the emblem: a hexagonal shield outline with a skull formed by the tentacles of a Hydra coiled in the center. "While the text on the metal box couldn't be deciphered, the stamp on the corner of the box was identified. This is the Hydra Valkyrie bomber, the exclusive insignia of the Seventh Column. The production serial number matches; it was manufactured in March 1945 and issued to the Red Skull's direct strategic bomber group."
Hawkeye stared at the screen for two seconds.
"How did this thing end up in the Arctic?"
"That's not my job." The analyst shrugged, copied the data onto a USB drive, and handed it over.
Hawkeye took the USB drive, said nothing, and turned to leave. He walked quickly, and once he found something on his computer, he couldn't sit still any longer. A few minutes later, he pushed open Fury's office door, where Fury was drinking coffee from a mug.
"Found it." Hawkeye slammed the USB drive on the table. "The photos Natasha sent have a badge on the box, belonging to the Hydra Valkyrie bomber, Seventh Column. The last recorded flight of this plane was in March 1945, during a bombing mission to New York. The captain's last contact was to say he was going to stop the bombing, but it disappeared along with the plane."
Fury's mug shattered in his hand with a sharp crack. Coffee mixed with blood dripped from between his fingers.
"What did you say? Say it again?"
" Captain America Steve Rogers, this plane may have been the last one he was in before it crashed into the sea."
Fury stood up, his chair sliding back half a meter before crashing into the filing cabinet with a dull thud. He stared at Hawkeye, the light in his single eye as hard as a nail.
Say it again.
" Hydra Seventh Column, Valkyrie bombers. The captain disappeared on this plane." Hawkeye paused for a second. "The image Natasha transmitted, when zoomed in, clearly shows the Seventh Column's insignia."
Fury looked down at his still-bleeding hand, as if only then realizing the mug was broken. He pulled a few tissues from the box, pressed them into his palm, walked to the window, and stood there with his back to Hawkeye for a while.
"Tell Natasha to move all agents from the Arctic station there. Conduct a full excavation of the wreckage." His voice sounded calm, but Hawkeye detected a tremor in it. " Steve Rogers, if it's him, I want to see him alive or dead."
Hawkeye nodded, his expression turning serious. He turned and walked out.
Fury stood by the window for a while longer, then picked up the encrypted phone and dialed a number. It rang three times before being answered. There was silence on the other end, with only the faint sound of a football commentator in the background.
"Hello, who is this? Hill is busy, I'll call you back in a bit."
Fury's fingers tightened around the microphone; it was Lin Xiao's voice.
"... It's me."
"Oh, boss, what's up?" Lin Xiao's voice came through the receiver, lazy, as if he had just woken up.
"Let Hill answer the phone."
"That's not a good idea."
"Stop with the nonsense, I'm not in the mood for you right now. Give her the phone. How come you have her phone?"
"Okay, but if anything happens, you're responsible."
Before Fury could even ask "What happened?", a very short, sharp scream came through the receiver, followed by a muffled thud as something hit the shower curtain, and then another scream—this time from Lin Xiao. Fury moved the receiver away a little, staring at the call timer flashing on the screen, his temples throbbing.
In the bathroom, Hill stood in the bathtub wrapped in a towel, water droplets dripping from her hair. She clutched the soaking wet towel in her hand and glared at Lin Xiao, who was squatting on the floor covering his head. Lin Xiao was completely soaked, his hair plastered to his forehead, and another towel that Hill had just thrown at him was draped over his shoulder.
What are you doing here?
"Someone called you." Lin Xiao held up his phone and waved it; the screen was still lit. "It's Fu Rui calling you."
Hill glared at him for two seconds, stepped out of the bathtub, and snatched the phone. Lin Xiao shrank back, leaned against the bathroom wall, and sat on the floor, pretending not to see anything but his eyes were still sneaking glances. Hill dried himself off, glared at Lin Xiao, took the phone, and then pricked up his ears.
"Chief."
" Hill," Fury's voice came through the receiver, pausing for a few seconds before regaining its usual composure, "There's been a discovery in the Arctic. Natasha found the wreckage of Hydra Valkyrie bomber, from the Seventh Column. Initial assessment suggests it's the one Steve Rogers was on when he disappeared."
Hill paused for a moment. Lin Xiao noticed that she wrapped the towel tighter around herself and shifted her gaze from the corner of the wall to the window.
Are you sure?
" Hawkeye has checked. The Seventh Column insignia and production serial number match. I've already had Natasha initiate a full-scale investigation." Fury paused for a moment, "Where are you now?"
" Panduolake Hotel." Hill glanced at Lin Xiao. "Stay with Agent Lin Xiao and handle Banner's situation."
There was a two-second silence on the other end of the phone. Fury clearly wanted to say something, but in the end he just hummed in response.
"Mission priority adjusted. You and Lin Xiao will return to New York first thing tomorrow morning and come directly to Triskelion. The excavation operation requires a deputy director-level person to coordinate at headquarters. Coulson will handle things in Brazil for now."
"Clear."
"And..." Fury's voice suddenly lowered, "That kid was eavesdropping over there, wasn't he?"
Hill glanced at the corner of the wall. Lin Xiao was sitting cross-legged on the floor, looking up at her with an innocent wink.
"No," Hill said.
"Let him hear it." There was something in Fury's tone that Lin Xiao couldn't quite decipher. "He'll find out sooner or later. Hang up."
The call ended. Hill placed her phone on the sink and looked down at Lin Xiao. Lin Xiao was still sitting on the floor, water droplets dripping from his chin, but his eyes were frighteningly bright.
" Hydra bombers," he began slowly, " the Arctic, the Seventh Column. What has S.H.I.E.L.D.. uncovered?"
"It's none of your business." Hill picked up a dry towel from the shelf and dried her hair.
"How can it be nothing? I'm a Level 7 Agent, after all." Lin Xiao stood up from the ground, took the towel from Hill's hand, and wiped the still dripping ends of her hair from the back of her head. "Is what you're digging up a person who's sunk under the ice?"
Hill stopped moving. She turned around, her grey-green eyes fixed on Lin Xiao.
What do you know?
"I don't know anything." Lin Xiao draped a towel over her shoulder, his tone as casual as if they were discussing what to have for dinner. "I just felt that the director's tone just now wasn't like his usual self. He seemed very serious this time, so something serious must have happened."
Hill looked at him for a while, then didn't ask any more questions. She opened the door and went out, with Lin Xiao following behind, his wet clothes leaving a trail of watermarks on the carpet.
Hill didn't even turn his head. "You're coming back to New York with me tomorrow. Don't ask any other questions."
Lin Xiao chuckled twice, glanced down at his wet shirt, then looked at Hill's retreating figure, and muttered something under his breath.
" Old Popsicle, Old Popsicle from seventy years ago. Interesting, Little Perky-Butt Captain."
He pulled out his phone and texted Tony, " Captain America's about to wake up." He added, "You'd better check out the things in your dad's closet beforehand."
On the Arctic ice field, Natasha stood beside a snowmobile, watching a dozen Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. set up a cordon around the wreckage. A technician crawled out of the cabin and waved a metal detector at her.
"An unusual echo has been detected two meters below the aircraft." The technician's voice was broken by the wind. "The metallic reaction is very strong; it's not from the aircraft's structure itself."
Natasha didn't speak, but looked up at the sky. The sky during the polar day was grayish-white; there was no sun, but the light was bright enough to blind one.
She took out her phone and typed a message in Notepad: "Abnormal echo below the aircraft, approximately two meters deep, suspected to be a frozen object. Save. Lock screen."
The wind blew in from the edge of the ice field, swirling snowflakes that stung her face like fine needles. She put her phone back in her pocket and gestured with her chin toward the technician.
"Keep digging."