When the mission briefing arrived, Steve was in the training room doing his routine physical conditioning.
The Vibranium Shield sat beside the bench as he did push-ups, his rhythm steady and his breathing even.
Hill's encrypted communication popped into his tablet. He paused, picked up a towel to wipe his sweat, and opened the file.
After reading it, he remained silent for a few seconds, then sent Tony a message: "Call everyone to the conference room. Hydra has reappeared."
Half an hour later, most of the people in the conference room had arrived. Wanda sat by the window, holding a cup of hot tea, while Pietro leaned back in the chair next to her, idly scrolling through his phone.
Sam leaned back in his chair and whispered something to Bucky. Clint came in through the door still biting into half a sandwich, clearly having been dragged out of the restaurant.
Tony, Banner, and Ivan entered together, with Jarvis following behind them. He carried a data tablet in his hand, and when he sat down, his movements were quiet and precise. He placed the tablet on the table and rested his hands on his knees, folded over each other.
Steve glanced around at everyone present and frowned. "Where are Lynn and Natasha?"
Tony leaned back in his chair, his tone tinged with a mixture of schadenfreude and helplessness.
"Where else could he be? He's out having fun with Natasha again. It's just Hydra, nothing serious. Let's go check it out first; nothing bad will happen. Even if something does, his portals can provide support anytime. There's no need to deliberately disturb his sweet life."
He paused, as if suddenly remembering something unpleasant, and his tone became tinged with a sour complaint.
" Pepper Potts is focused on being her CEO right now and doesn't have much time for me. Those two, on the other hand, are always showing off their love in front of me. Unless it's something serious, let them go out and have fun; it'll save them from getting in my way when they come back."
Steve considered it for a moment, and it made sense. Wanda was sitting there, her goal clear, and the current roster was more than enough; there was no need to specifically call Lynn back. He nodded, no longer dwelling on the matter, and turned to Hill's holographic projection. "Tell me the details."
Hill projected several satellite photos onto the large screen. The photos showed the profile of a middle-aged man, with sharp features, a sinister gaze, and an old scar on his jaw that stretched from his left ear to his chin. Even without a uniform, his face was enough for anyone present to recognize him at a glance.
It was Brock Rumlow, the former leader of S.H.I.E.L.D..'s Rapid Response Team and Hydra agent who went missing during the battle at the Triskelion and was listed as "suspected dead" in his file. But now he's in Lagos, Nigeria, alive and well.
"According to intelligence intercepted by frontline agents, he is planning an attack on the Lagos Infectious Disease Research Institute, specifically targeting a highly infectious experimental virus sample. The operation is scheduled for tomorrow noon; you'd better arrive early to scout the location."
After Hill finished speaking, he glanced at everyone present. " The Quinjet are all set up. They'll depart at six o'clock tomorrow morning. Any questions?"
No one raised any objections.
Steve looked around and began assigning tasks. When it came to JARVIS, Steve thought for a moment and didn't assign JARVIS any combat missions.
His Vibranium body is theoretically capable of engaging the enemy head-on, but his current condition is more suitable for staying in the rear, responsible for intelligence coordination and real-time communication support. Tony also doesn't want him to go to the battlefield too early.
JARVIS listened quietly to the instructions, his blue eyes dimming slightly.
After a moment, he nodded gently, agreeing to the arrangements made by the intelligence unit.
Just a quiet addition: I suggest Sam raise the upper limit of the maneuver tracking height a bit more, which can maximize the avoidance of signal blind spots caused by dense power lines in urban areas and greatly reduce the probability of missing the target during the chase.
After the meeting adjourned, everyone left the conference room.
Only Steve remained inside, his hands resting on the edge of the table, head down staring at Rumlow's file, lost in thought. Bucky, observing Steve's unfocused state, remained silent for a moment, then turned and left.
The next morning, the Quinjet took off from New York and flew across the Atlantic Ocean to Lagos.
When they arrived at the mission area, the entire neighborhood was still shrouded in the morning mist, the streets were deserted, and only the occasional early morning bus drove over the broken asphalt.
Tony circled in the air once, and JARVIS scanned the electromagnetic signals around the target building using his armor's sensors, confirming that there were no anomalies.
Steve and his ground team set up an ambush outside the research institute, hiding on the sixth floor of an office building across the street, where they could see the entrance to the institute's parking lot.
"Target not yet visible." Steve pressed down on his headset, his voice steady. "Everyone, hold your positions, ready to move at any moment."
Waiting is the most boring and grueling part of being a secret agent.
Tony yawned over the comms and started chatting casually with JARVIS. "Where do you think Lynn is now? Paris or Tokyo? Or has he gone back to China to eat some delicious food again?"
JARVIS's voice steadily switched to the channel. " Mr. Lynn's spending habits ultimately centered in Chongqing, so he's most likely still there. We can roughly infer that they're currently enjoying local cuisine in Chongqing."
"The birthplace of that impressive cuisine?... You've been monitoring even that?"
Tony paused for a moment. "Right now, I want to know how spicy Natasha was. I still get chills thinking about that meal last time. I'm going to ask her about it in person next time we meet."
Tony's lips twitched, and he was about to say something when suddenly his armor's sensors detected an abnormal signal.
Two black armored SUVs sped out at speeds that defied all traffic rules, their tires screeching as they scraped the pavement.
Immediately afterwards, a muffled engine roared from the street corner, and a heavy truck rushed out of the alley, its reinforced front bumper gleaming coldly in the morning light.
"Target identified, all personnel in position."
Tony's voice instantly switched back to combat mode, the thrusters ignited, and the gold and red armor was lifted vertically from the rooftop.
Before the words were even finished, the heavy truck had already crashed through the research institute's gate, countless fragments exploded in the air, and several security personnel were thrown to the ground by the shockwave.
The truck's side door popped open, and a dozen fully armed mercenaries jumped out, swiftly taking control of the entrance. Smoke grenades exploded in succession, and thick white smoke quickly filled the entire hall. The alarm blared sharply, but was soon drowned out by gunfire.
Brock Rumlow was the last to emerge from the carriage. He wore a dark gray heavy tactical armor suit, with a hydraulically powered glove on his left arm that made a dull creaking sound as he gripped it.
He walked straight to the explosion-proof glass cabinet in the lab through the thick smoke, punched it, and the entire glass shattered. He took the virus reagent, encapsulated in a silver-white metal tube, from the glass shards, casually stuffed it into the protective layer of his tactical vest, and then pressed his earpiece. "Got it, let's get out of here."
Wanda was the first to enter. She jumped directly from the window of the abandoned office building, and when she landed, crimson chaotic energy was already flowing around her.
A mercenary pointed his gun at her, but before the bullet could even leave the barrel, it was deflected by the energy barrier. He was then flung away by an invisible force, crashing into the wall and sliding down. Pietro followed closely behind, his silver-gray afterimage weaving among the mercenaries. Before the enemies could react, he seized three rifles and tripped one of the big guys who was changing magazines, sending him tumbling headfirst into a nearby trash can.
Steve burst through the front door, his shield deflecting two bullets precisely before striking a mercenary in the chest. The bullets bounced back, and Steve caught them cleanly. Sam swooped down, his wingsuit deploying, his wings swirling in the narrow corridor, intercepting two mercenaries attempting to escape through the side door.
Clint's arrow traced a precise arc from the opposite rooftop, piercing the glove of a mercenary setting up a machine gun and pinning his hand firmly to the weapon. Bucky flanked from the side, his metal arm flipping over a desk used as cover by a mercenary, then smashing the mask of the enemy behind it with a single punch.
The entire battle was swift and decisive; the mercenaries' defenses were completely torn apart within minutes.
But Rumlow wasn't among these people.
At that moment, a black SUV rushed out from the back alley of the research institute, with fragments of broken iron railings still hanging on its body.
Rumlow sat in the passenger seat, his right hand pressed against the virus test kit on his tactical vest, while his left hand shouted something into his headset. Two armored SUVs followed closely behind, and the convoy sped into the main road of Lagos city.
"Chase!" Steve gave the order, and everyone immediately switched to pursuit mode. Tony swooped down from the sky, the exhaust flames of his thrusters casting golden spots of light on the glass curtain walls lining the narrow street.
Sam, in his wingsuit fully extended, weaved through the dense urban buildings in pursuit. Pietro caught up with one of the SUVs from the ground, circling around to the front of the vehicle at high speed, his silver hair whipping backward in the wind, his eyes fixed on the driver's every slight movement.
Another car was hit in the front wheel by Tony's palm strike, lost control, overturned, and crashed into an abandoned gas station after leaving a trail of sparks dozens of meters long on the road.
The last SUV was intercepted by Steve and Bucky, with Steve dragging the driver from his seat and pinning him to the ground. But Rumlow wasn't in any of the SUVs.
By the time Tony re-locked his signal from high above, he had already driven three blocks.
He changed cars.
They eventually stopped him in front of a high-rise office building in the city center.
Tony fired a shot in mid-air, hitting the front wheel precisely. The pickup truck rolled twice on the gravel before crashing into the exterior wall of an office building, black smoke billowing from the hood. Rumlow climbed out of the truck.
He looked around; the mercenaries were either dead or scattered, and there was no way out.
He looked up and saw Tony hovering in mid-air, Sam unfolding his wingsuit on the rooftop, and Wanda slowly emerging from the ruins, her red hair swaying gently in the heat. Then he smiled.
Steve stepped out from the ranks, shield in his left hand, right hand hanging at his side, and walked steadily toward Rumlow. He didn't charge, he didn't roar, he just walked step by step, each step carrying an unwavering determination.
Rumlow straightened up, coughed up a mouthful of bloody saliva, and then grinned, revealing a blood-stained smile.
"Your good buddy Bucky, those blood-stained missions, did he ever tell you anything? You'd never guess what he did."
Steve stood in front of Rumlow, as if to ask him something.
Without waiting for him to speak, Rumlow pressed the detonator button in his hand.
Rumlow laughed as he looked at Steve, intending to take him down with him.
The crimson chaotic energy arrived in the final moments before the explosion.
She clenched her fists forward, and Chaos Magic enveloped Rumlow and the bomb on his chest like a tidal wave, lifting him off the ground. Gritting her teeth, she swung her arm upwards, flinging Rumlow and the bomb into the air.
In a desperate attempt to contain the explosive energy, Wanda forcefully lifted the blast point upwards. However, the energy containment was not complete in the rush, and the angle shifted slightly. The core explosion was successfully lifted into the air, but the violent aftershocks, carrying a large amount of high-speed debris, affected the nearby office building, violently tearing apart the entire exterior wall and multiple layers of glass windows.
The explosion tore through the walls of half the building, and thick smoke and dust poured out from the floors.
Screams erupted from the crowd below; some people fell into the rubble, while others desperately ran across the street with their children in their arms.
The aftershocks of the explosion still echoed in the air, but Wanda had already withdrawn all her power.
Broken glass rained down from the sky, and clear cries and groans echoed from inside the building. The screams of innocent people on the street and the cries of children pierced through the thick smoke, striking straight into Wanda's heart.
She stood there, stunned, her face drained of all color. From bewilderment and shock, she gradually sank into extreme panic and self-blame. The fear of her family being destroyed by gunfire when she was a child surged up suddenly, making it hard for her to breathe.
For the first time, she clearly realized that her well-intentioned mistake could easily destroy an innocent family.
A deep sense of regret and helplessness gripped her mind.
He only wanted to save people, but due to insufficient preparation and imprecise control, he ended up endangering innocent people.
Steve stood at the edge of the ruins, looking up at the still-smoking building, his shield hanging at his side. His lips moved slightly, his voice soft, as if speaking to himself, but the words were transmitted through everyone's communication channels via his headset.
" Sam, call emergency services. Call every hospital nearby."
Bucky stood at the other end of the ruins, watching Steve's retreating figure without saying a word, a complex emotion rising in his eyes.
Tony landed from mid-air, stepping on the rubble, and his visor popped open.
He gazed at the dilapidated, smoking buildings and listened to the cries of the people around him, his heart heavy with sorrow.
He knew that Wanda wasn't to blame for the accident, so he didn't say much, but simply patted Wanda on the shoulder gently.
Wanda didn't turn around; her fingertips were still trembling slightly.
Pietro looked at her pale profile and instantly understood all her breakdown and self-blame. All the words of comfort stuck in his throat and he couldn't say them.
The distant sirens of police cars and ambulances began to converge from all directions, muffled and urgent amidst the thick smoke and dust.