Night had fallen deep. Gazing at the endless twinkling lights outside the window, Alexander Pierce sighed, picked up the iced whiskey on his desk, and drained it in one gulp. For a senior agent like him, alcohol could not shake his iron will. The only things that could truly unsettle his faith were those warm memories of the past.
It was hard to imagine that this ordinary-looking middle-aged man, who resembled a government clerk, had once served as S.H.I.E.L.D.'s director and was now a key leader in the national security apparatus. Countless dazzling honors surrounded him. It was he who had personally appointed Nick Fury as the next director, and he had shielded S.H.I.E.L.D. from who knew how much criticism from Congress and the White House.
But who could have imagined that beneath Alexander Pierce's shining image and prominent status lay another true face, one that would astonish everyone?
"The Winter Soldier operation has failed. Begin the cleanup immediately." Pierce coldly tossed aside his earpiece and issued his final order.
At his command, the mysterious organization hidden behind the scenes sprang into action like a precision machine switched on, operating with tense efficiency as it mobilized enormous resources to erase any traces the assassination might have left behind.
If those idiotic energy tycoons had not been scared witless by Stark Industries' expansion plans, who would have proposed such a reckless scheme as assassinating Tony Stark? Leaving aside the uproar it would cause, Nick Fury's investigation alone would leave those interest-group members, whose eyes saw nothing but stacks of Franklins, in deep trouble.
Pierce complained helplessly. Having long lurked within S.H.I.E.L.D., he knew exactly how highly Nick Fury regarded Tony Stark. It was not merely extra care for the son of an old friend; the Black director had genuinely seen immeasurable