Keeping watch in the shadows

D.O.D.C.'s Washington frontline command.

This was not the spotless, futuristic underground level of the New York headquarters, but a steel fortress built on mud and ruins. Modular military container units stood stacked like building blocks along the Potomac River, surrounded by high-voltage fencing. An automated sentry tower stood every fifty meters, its red laser scanning beams weaving an impenetrable net through the gloomy night.

The air smelled of scorched plastic, ozone, and the rank sludge churned up from the riverbed. Though rough and rugged on the outside, the facility had everything it needed within. Independent generators supplied by Stark Industries roared, providing its computing center with data support more advanced than that of certain departments in the Pentagon.

When Zhao Fan pushed open the heavy blast door and entered Evelyn's temporary office, a rush of cold air mingled with the bitter aroma of coffee greeted him.

On the holographic projection table in the center of the room, several figures in military uniforms and suits were not merely flickering-they were roaring.

"...No, General Ross. I'll say this one last time: I cannot approve this operation!"

Dr. Evelyn Reed was still wearing her dust-stained white protective suit, her short blonde hair tied in a neat ponytail, with only a few loose strands falling across her forehead. Her usually cool, exquisite face now bore unmistakable exhaustion and dark circles.

But she stood with both hands braced on the desk, leaning forward, her gaze still as sharp as a scalpel, refusing to give an inch.

"That is a Class A energy contamination zone! Under Article 103 of the D.O.D.C.'s newly revised Postwar Hazardous Materials Disposal Act, it is strictly off-limits until radiation levels fall to a safe range. No one may enter, not even your so-called 'elite special forces'!"

The red-faced general in the hologram seemed to still be shouting something about "national security" and "presidential authorization."

"This is the president's order? Then have the president come sign it himself! Until then, I call the shots here!"

Evelyn swept her hand sharply, cutting off the transmission. The blue images flickered and vanished into the air, leaving only an oppressive silence in the room.

"Looks like our Ms. Evelyn has run into trouble."

Zhao Fan leaned against the doorframe, carrying two cups of hot coffee, steam still rising from their rims. He had not changed out of his black combat suit, which still bore several scorch marks from glancing strikes by high-energy particles. He carried the smell of gunsmoke, like someone fresh off the battlefield.

Evelyn took a deep breath. When she turned and saw Zhao Fan, her tense shoulders relaxed slightly, as though a crushing burden had been lifted.

"A pack of greedy vultures." She accepted the coffee Zhao Fan offered and tipped back a large mouthful without even worrying about the heat. With a long sigh, she said, "S.H.I.E.L.D.'s corpse isn't even cold, and they already can't wait to carve it up. The military wants to haul away anything that looks like a weapon, especially the heavy equipment Hydra left behind. The politicians want to confiscate every valuable precious metal and rare material. And Stark..."

She rubbed between her brows and gave a wry smile. "Pepper Potts has already called me three times, pressing us to recover the patented technical documents and technological remnants belonging to Stark Industries from the helicarrier wreckage."

"That's the price of fame." Zhao Fan shrugged and walked to the window.

Through the bulletproof glass, he could see the busy camp outside. Cleanup workers in yellow protective suits moved like industrious worker ants, assisted by massive mechanical arms as they hauled enormous pieces of metal wreckage from the river and loaded them into specially made lead-sealed containers.

"We used to be cleaners. Nobody paid us any attention. Now we're gatekeepers sitting on a mountain of gold, and everyone wants a cut," Zhao Fan said evenly. "As long as we hold the keys, they'll have to wait in line."

"Keys..." Evelyn swirled her coffee cup, her gaze sharpening again. "Speaking of keys, did you bring back the goods?"

"I did."

Zhao Fan lowered his voice. "Twelve intact Hydra Phase-Change Energy Rifles, plus two small personal exoskeleton thrusters. They're all sealed in Underground Vault Three, under the S.C.U.'s exclusive jurisdiction. Benjamin is carrying out 'demilitarization'-in other words, physically locking down their chips, leaving them useful only for research. When the military observers inspect them, they'll look like a pile of expensive high-tech scrap."

"Well done." Evelyn nodded in satisfaction. These were her bargaining chips against Stark Industries and the military, as well as prototypes for the S.C.U.'s future equipment upgrades. "Remember to save two for me. I want to take them apart myself and study those energy circuits."

"Don't worry. I saved you the ones in the best condition."

Evelyn sipped her coffee, her gaze lingering on Zhao Fan for a moment before her brows drew together slightly and her tone grew grave. "Also, I heard... you ran into Brock Rumlow in the downstream riverbank cleanup zone earlier?"

Zhao Fan raised an eyebrow. "Word travels fast. Has that 'Crossbones' already gone running to tattle?"

"Yes. General Ross didn't say it outright during the call, but he kept implying that S.C.U. personnel 'lacked discipline.'" Evelyn looked at him. "What exactly happened?"

"Nothing much. We just crossed paths."

Zhao Fan turned around and said casually, "He and his 'Rattlesnake' special operations team tried to forcibly requisition a crate we'd just dug up, claiming they suspected it contained high-risk Hydra weapons. But I'd scanned it. There were only some quantum hard drives Hydra used for encrypted communications."

"He tried to take it by force?"

"He wanted to see what I was made of." Zhao Fan gave a cold laugh, a vicious red glint flashing through his eyes.

"You didn't hurt anyone, did you?"

"No. I was very careful not to go too far."

Evelyn fell silent for a moment, then walked over to Zhao Fan, her tone turning serious. "You've gotten yourself into trouble, Zhao. Rumlow is General Ross's favorite right now. Everyone knows his background is dirty, that he used to handle S.H.I.E.L.D.'s dirty work, but the military needs a rabid dog without scruples who can help them 'recover' benefits from the ruins. You humiliated him in public. He won't let it go."

"I know." Zhao Fan turned his head and looked straight into Evelyn's gray-blue eyes. "Precisely because he's a rabid dog, we can't back down. In these circles, especially in Washington, D.C. right now, show weakness once and they'll devour you without leaving so much as a bone. If we'd handed over that crate, the S.C.U. would have lost all credibility. Tomorrow, they'd dare to charge straight into our warehouses and take whatever they wanted."

"Besides..." Zhao Fan paused, giving off an intimidating presence forged through countless life-and-death battles. "I also need to establish my authority in front of the military. Let them know the D.O.D.C. isn't their supply depot, and I'm not some nobody they can push around."

As Evelyn looked at the man before her, complicated emotions welled up inside her.

A few months ago, when she first noticed the cleaner with employee number 9763, he could still be described as a nobody at the bottom, risking his life in the ruins for a few hundred dollars, his eyes carrying a trace of confusion and anxiety over survival.

Now, Zhao Fan stood before her, straight-backed and composed. He already dared to face Hydra's top assassins and military generals directly, making his moves amid easy conversation, even playing this chaotic situation in the palm of his hand.

He was growing faster than the Extremis Virus could transform a body.

"You've changed, Zhao Fan," Evelyn said softly, her voice carrying both emotion and a barely perceptible trace of awe. "You've become... more like a leader. Sometimes, looking at you now, I feel as though that man scrambling desperately through the sewers to avoid the beetles was someone else entirely."

"Circumstances force people to grow stronger, Evelyn." Zhao Fan reined in the sharpness in his eyes and smiled faintly. "If I hadn't changed, I would have become bug feed back in that air-raid shelter. We're accomplices, remember? Only when I grow stronger can your position remain secure."

"You're right. We're accomplices." Evelyn smiled too, and the atmosphere relaxed again.

She set down her coffee cup, walked to her desk, and pulled a document in an elegant envelope from a stack of encrypted files, handing it to Zhao Fan.

"By the way, how are the arrangements for that matter coming along?" Zhao Fan looked at the envelope, his gaze shifting slightly.

Evelyn knew what he was asking about.

"Everything went smoothly. Even better than expected," Evelyn said. "Maya Chen's appointment letter has been issued. With unanimous approval from the board-though, of course, the main reason was that Mr. Stark also really liked that sculpture of hers at the exhibition-starting next Monday, she'll be the director of the D.O.D.C.'s Department of Public Relations and Art Promotion."

Zhao Fan took the document without opening it right away.

"Her office is on the thirtieth floor of the New York headquarters building, in what used to be S.H.I.E.L.D.'s senior administrative area. It has level-two security clearance, round-the-clock security personnel, and a dedicated blast-resistant elevator. I've already had her apartment cleared out. Her new home is in the high-end talent apartments next to headquarters, only one floor away from mine."

Evelyn reported every detail, as though discussing a precision engineering project. "Besides that, her salary is ten times what she earned before, with full medical insurance and stock option awards. For a newly graduated art student, this is reaching heaven in a single step."

Zhao Fan's fingers gently stroked the envelope. Through the paper, he almost seemed able to see the girl's surprised, excited smile when she received the appointment letter.

"Does she know?" Zhao Fan asked quietly.

"She doesn't know the specific details of the position yet. Only that she won the competition and landed a 'dream job.'" Evelyn watched Zhao Fan's expression. "I've arranged a surprise party tomorrow evening in the first-floor lobby of the New York headquarters. There will be plenty of media and plenty of prominent guests. It's the first step in reshaping the D.O.D.C.'s image, and a new beginning for her life."

At this point, Evelyn paused and asked tentatively, "Are you... going? My private jet leaves for New York in two hours. You can come with me. You've been exhausted these past few days. Give yourself a break."

Zhao Fan fell silent.

Only the low hum of the air purifier remained in the room.

Zhao Fan lowered his head and looked at his hands resting on the desk.

Those hands were long-fingered and strong, the webs between his thumbs and forefingers covered in calluses. Through [Weak Energy Perception], his body constantly emitted dangerous, unstable energy radiation, the residue of overusing his abilities.

He turned to look out the window again.

That expanse of ruins filled with radiation, wreckage, and the unknown was his battlefield. And farther away in the shadows, Rumlow's eyes, filled with hatred and greed, might be staring fixedly at this place through a pair of binoculars.

"I won't go."

Zhao Fan gently placed the document back on the desk, as though setting down a fragile dream. Watching his retreating back, Evelyn opened her mouth, but no words came out.

She looked at the unopened envelope on the desk. It was proof of Zhao Fan's role as a "guardian," and of his loneliness as a "monster."

Evelyn sighed, picked up the document, and locked it in the deepest part of the safe.