Fifth Avenue, Manhattan. Grizzly Club.
This was a private club closed to the public, designed in the retro style of the last century. The surrounding walls were covered in carefully carved lettering and intricate symmetrical patterns, while the tops of the doors and windows featured all manner of floral ornaments and reliefs. The tables and chairs were made of red hardwood, and the bar was decorated with a target board and an old-fashioned hunting rifle. It was rustic yet elegant, as though it could carry one back through time to the Victorian era.
Sean stepped through the entrance and went up to the second floor amid the soothing, melodious piano music. Compared with the design downstairs, this place was brighter and more luxurious. A crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling, scattering dazzling reflections. A deep red carpet as soft as cotton stretched across the floor, while broad walls were adorned with large oil paintings. Whatever the artistic taste of the passing guests, one thing was certain: they had to be extraordinarily expensive.
General Ross leaned back on the sofa, running a long match along the body of a cigar and slowly toasting it. Unlike his usual stern and forceful demeanor, he was remarkably patient when doing this, without the slightest impatience.
Sean picked a seat and sat down without interrupting the general's enjoyment of the fine cigar. Only after the other man gently exhaled a thick cloud of smoke did he speak. "Umbrella will remember the general's friendship this time."
After the Fantastic Four incident ended, Victor Doom, frozen into a steel statue, would inevitably be recovered by S.H.I.E.L.D. Sean had asked General Ross to intercept him from their hands. This Latverian from a small Eastern European country still had other uses for him.
"It's merely a fair trade. I