Night was falling. Nick Fury stood before the window, gazing out at the ceaselessly flowing Potomac River. Amid the faintly glowing lights, a marble obelisk pierced the sky like a sharp sword. It was the monument built for George Washington, the first president of the United States. Countless tourists visited it every day, and after taking the high-speed elevator to the top, they could take in the entire city through its small windows.
Directly south of the Washington Monument stood the White House, the grassy presidential residence. Twenty minutes earlier, the Black director had received a private call from the Vice President's staff. There had been no expected harsh condemnation or furious rebuke. The politically ambitious Vice President had merely asked about the situation in a friendly manner, exchanged pleasantries for several minutes, and then ended the call.
Fury remained silent for a long time. He had only just learned that this Vice President, who came from South Carolina and had served as House Majority Whip, was not only an old-school politician with immense ambition and a promising future, but also a good father who dearly loved his daughter.
Francis Underwood's daughter had a disability in her right leg. His wife often sighed over it, while the girl herself showed mild depressive tendencies. According to S.H.I.E.L.D.'s information, that little darling, like a blonde angel, had once even attempted suicide.
And Umbrella's yet-to-be-released Crees Formula had been developed specifically for patients with missing limbs. Perhaps that dazzling young man had used this connection to get in touch with Vice President Underwood. As for whether there had been a deeper transaction involved, that was impossible to know.
"I don't believe you can stay ahead of everyone every single time." Fury stared coldly at Sean's holographic image.
At first, he had only suspected