Inside the Continental Hotel, Locke, wearing sunglasses, felt his eyebrow twitch as he listened to the man sitting across from him—the kind of laugh that made one want to throw a punch. "I just don't want an innocent, handsome young man like myself to get caught up in all this because of me."
Raymond "Red" Reddington, the "Redemption" figure in his black fedora, nodded at these words. "I believe that."
Locke quietly withdrew the pistol he had been pressing against Red's groin under the table and offered a faint smile. "Right? I feel the same way."
Red was internally speechless. He had dealt with hundreds, maybe thousands of assassins. But like everyone else, the only lead he had found on the "Peerless Assassin" was a possible connection to Lorraine Broughton—the Langley agent who died over a decade ago—and the sixteen-year-old Locke Broughton.
'Did that woman turn into a man?' Red wondered. 'Wait... why did I say 'also'?'
Red blinked and looked at the file in his hand regarding the Strategic Homeland Intervention... Division, as well as the data on Nick Fury and Phil Coulson. "So, you've handed everything you collected over to the court?"
Locke took a sip of his drink. "Is there a problem? A man should answer for his own actions. They couldn't solve their problem with me, so they tried to find a scapegoat. I had to see if I'd allow that."
Red gestured with the documents. "But this isn't what we agreed upon."
What is intelligence? It's having what others don't. It's being more precise than the competition. That is the standard for a top-tier information broker. Intelligence that the whole world knows via the morning news is worthless to Red.
However, Red sighed and considered it for a moment. "Fifty thousand. For this intel. What do you think?"
'Fine,' Red thought. 'Consider it a gesture of friendship.'
Locke laughed and looked at Red. "I wasn't planning on taking your money. Don't worry, I know the rules."
As Locke had said before, he was generally a very law-abiding person. In fact, he enjoyed following the rules because only by following them could he encounter those who broke them. When people broke rules, "Missions" appeared, allowing him to farm rewards with a clear conscience.
No one cared more about world peace than he did. If the world ended before he saved up enough money, where would he go to complete his tasks?
"Besides..." Locke smiled at Red. "I'm here to give you money."
Red paused.
Locke tapped the surveillance photos of Nick Fury, Phil Coulson, and Melinda May. "These three have been detained. If nothing goes wrong, the case will be settled soon, but they will also disappear quickly. While they are transitioning from the light back into the shadows, I want to know exactly when and where they will vanish."
Balance in all things: the pen and the sword.
Locke had given S.H.I.E.L.D. a chance, but they hadn't cherished it. In that case, they couldn't blame him for not showing mercy. At this point, the legal side was nearly wrapped up. The World Security Council was clearly choosing to cut their losses and protect the agency.
The stance of the Department of Homeland Security in court yesterday, combined with the messages Locke had just received, proved it: Nick Fury and his team would be thrown to the wolves to face trial for contempt and perjury.
Locke's "legal drama" was ending here. As a law-abiding citizen, seeing the guilty judged by the law was a satisfactory resolution.
But Locke wanted more. Locke's civil performance was over, but the Peerless Assassin's action sequence was just beginning.
In this world, there was no one Locke didn't dare to kill. The only thing that made him hesitate was the quality of the reward. Once the trial ended, Fury and the others would undoubtedly be moved secretly. Even if S.H.I.E.L.D. didn't do it, Fury's Skrull associates would likely stage a rescue.
Red understood exactly what Locke intended to do. He frowned slightly. "Aren't you afraid of..."
Locke smiled. "Everyone is afraid of what's in the dark. But are they really in the dark anymore? Besides, you have the Cabal to worry about, don't you? Are you afraid?"
If an information broker wasn't afraid of a secret society, why would a Peerless Assassin fear S.H.I.E.L.D.?
Red laughed heartily and pushed the file to his associate, Dembe. "Regarding the transport van... once it's set, I'll call you. If you can't make it in time, that's not my concern."
Locke watched as Red stood up to leave. "How much?"
Red waved him off. "On the house!"
Locke's lips curled up. He raised his glass of bourbon in a silent toast. 'This Red is a friend,' he thought. He signaled the waiter for another round.
Thunderbolt Bourbon.
This clash with S.H.I.E.L.D. wasn't a total landslide victory because Locke had suffered one major loss: all the Thunderbolt Bourbon he had painstakingly imported had been confiscated by the NYPD.
The problem was that Locke was under twenty-one. Captain George Stacy had been very clear: either the alcohol never existed, or Locke could come down to the station, get fingerprinted, and take an underage drinking charge.
Locke chose the former. The Peerless Assassin had never left a fingerprint on file, and he wasn't about to start now for the sake of some whiskey. Better to be cautious.
...
Back at the Star Tower, Locke checked his phone. A message from Gwen.
Locke had been busy with the lawsuit and signing a memorandum of understanding with the FBI, so he hadn't been to school lately. Fortunately, the case was a national sensation, and Midtown High was very supportive. After all, one of their star students had been falsely accused of being linked to a hitman.
In fact, Midtown High was considering its own lawsuit against the DHS. 'Who gave your agents permission to go undercover in our school?' A school is a sanctuary for education, not a battlefield for spooks.
Of course, Locke suspected the school was just taking the opportunity to boost its own fame, making sure everyone knew they were prestigious enough to have "undercover students."
"Gwen," Locke called her after changing clothes and heading to his study. "Sorry, my lawyer was just here. I missed your message."
In her bedroom, Gwen was hugging a plushie with "JUSTICE" written on it. "It's fine. I'll pull you into the chat."
"Sure."
A moment later, the remote study video software opened. Cindy and Kahn were already there. It was almost November, and they had barely thirty days left before heading to Maine for the annual Chemistry Competition. Even though Locke missed school during the day, he never missed these late-night study sessions.
...
The next day, Locke and Lawyer Laun arrived at the Federal Building. Laun and his legal team reviewed the settlement agreement provided by the FBI. After confirming there were no loopholes, Laun nodded to Locke.
Locke took the pen and signed his name. For the sum of ten million dollars (after-tax), he officially ended his dispute and grievances with the FBI.
The compensation was wired via Stark Bank to the designated account almost as soon as the phone call was made.
"Goodbye, Mr. Broughton."
"Heh."
Locke shook hands with the FBI Senior Supervisor—the same man who had been chewed out by Judge Knott a few days ago. "Let's not say goodbye. I only hope the FBI doesn't 'find' any more trouble for me in the future."
Beside him, Laun spoke with a stern face. "The Laun Law Firm is the designated legal counsel for Mr. Locke Broughton. In the future, if the FBI needs to conduct any form of investigation regarding my client, please notify us first."
Supervisor Colin waved his hands frantically. "No, no. Never. Won't happen."
They had effectively blacklisted Locke—not in the traditional sense, but in the "Tony Stark" sense: he was a person too much of a headache to touch. The waters in New York City were too deep, and even the FBI couldn't navigate them perfectly.
...
A few days later—November 10, 2004.
The US Federal Court.
After two weeks of media frenzy, the Department of Homeland Security had fully accepted the blame for the incident. Aside from the first appearance, Locke hadn't needed to attend in person; Laun handled the verbal sparring against the top-tier lawyers the DHS had brought in from D.C.
There was a lot of legal red tape to get through. Moreover, Nick Fury wasn't just facing Locke's civil suit; he was also dealing with criminal charges from the New York District Attorney for contempt of court and perjury.
Yesterday, the verdict for the contempt and perjury charges had been handed down. It wasn't much—one year in prison. The DA had wanted more, but the real show was the civil suit. Once Locke won his case for abuse of power and intentional harm, the DA would hit Fury and his team with a second round of criminal charges.
The poor Fury was being dismantled in a war of attrition. This wasn't going to end anytime soon.
But today was the main event.
In the courtroom, Laun and the top D.C. defense attorney were locked in a magnificent battle of wits and words.
But...
***
Well we got so many stones last week.
I'll change the Goals a bit and keep it simple.
I'll post a bonus for every 100 power stones.
Thank y'all for the support 💕
***
Read 30 Chapters early on P-atreon.com/Redestro666