A fully armed soldier marched into the conference room. Though a tactical mask obscured his face, it could not hide the palpable aura of arrogance radiating from him.
The newcomer was the HYDRA agent, Brock Rumlow—better known as Crossbones.
The Hand's recent massive mobilization had caught the attention of HYDRA's deep-cover cells in Japan. The intelligence had worked its way up the chain of command until it landed on the desk of Alexander Pierce. To Pierce, the opportunity to absorb an organization with centuries of history was a windfall. In exchange, all he had to provide was a localized street lockdown and some official cover—a small price for such a gain.
Crossbones stood before the four "Fingers" of the Hand, his voice dripping with disdain. "I am not the one who will be joining your ranks. Once you've handled this mess, someone else will contact you to discuss terms."
"Regarding your operation tonight: we will not intervene. However, we will secure the perimeter for you. You have exactly five hours."
He leaned forward, his eyes cold behind the mask. "If you cannot eliminate your enemies in five hours, then your organization is not worth our time."
Without another word, Crossbones turned and left. He had other roles to play and couldn't afford to be seen for long.
The room fell into a heavy silence. The leaders of the Hand exchanged looks of confusion and unease until their gaze settled on Alexandra, demanding an explanation.
Alexandra met their eyes and spoke five chilling words: "Hail Hydra."
The other three were stunned. They realized then that they hadn't just found a partner; they had been conscripted. They had no choice but to follow suit. None of them were "good" people, and now that they knew the secret of HYDRA's survival, the alternative to joining was simple: execution.
"Hail Hydra," they echoed reluctantly.
Seeing them fall in line, a smile touched Alexandra's lips. "Now, let us finalize the battle plan."
"Tonight, we do not just kill Shiranui Hayate. We will dismantle the Continental Hotel in New York to avenge our fallen members. I propose we split into two teams: one will join me in erasing Hayate, and the other will storm the Continental."
"We must show the High Table that crossing the Hand carries a price."
The meeting adjourned. They had only to wait for the clock to strike midnight.
Shiranui Agency
Hayate had just returned from Tony's villa when Hotaru intercepted him.
"What is it this time, Secretary Hotaru?" Hayate asked with a sigh as they sat down in the conference room.
Hotaru opened a folder. "Boss, it has been over a month since you dispatched John Wick, Carlos, and Wesley. They have completely stabilized the new locations. The Continental branches there are now fully operational and no longer require their permanent presence."
"They are scheduled to return to New York in three days to report to you. They will be bringing the first month's revenue from the wax baths with them."
Hayate leaned back. He hadn't realized so much time had passed. The first harvest of system gold was finally arriving.
"Arrange for a team to meet them at the airport," Hayate instructed. "Welcome our Adjudicators home."
Hotaru nodded, then hesitated. "Boss, Wesley—who was overseeing the Moscow branch—has a specific matter he wants to report to you."
Curious, Hayate pulled out his phone and dialed Wesley's number directly.
"Wesley, it's Hayate. Hotaru says you have something for me."
In Moscow, Wesley looked at a burly Russian man passed out drunk at a nearby table. "Boss, I've found a mechanical genius here in Russia. I felt it was necessary to recommend him to you."
"A mechanical genius? What's his name?" Hayate asked, his interest piqued. Across the table, Hotaru watched him with wide, curious eyes.
"His name is Ivan Vanko, Boss."
Hayate, who had been listening with half-interest, suddenly straightened up. The image of Whiplash flashed through his mind—a rugged, cunning man who had nearly dismantled Tony Stark and humiliated Justin Hammer.
However, Hayate wasn't entirely sold on Vanko. The man was a wildcard with a massive ego, and Hayate already had plans for future "Puppet Masters" who could fill that technical niche. Most importantly, he knew the Arc Reactor technology Vanko possessed didn't trigger the system's top-up function.
"You want to recommend him to me?" Hayate asked. "Fine. Bring him back with you in three days. I'll give him an audience."
Wesley's voice turned awkward. "That's the thing, Boss. I've spoken to him, but because of his father, Anton Vanko's failing health, Ivan refuses to leave his side right now."
Hayate guessed as much. Wesley hadn't actually secured the man yet.
"If he can't leave, then forget it for now," Hayate said. "Just focus on getting back here for your report."
Wesley bit his lip, looking at the drunk genius. "I'll try one more time, Boss. I'll do my best to bring him. I really think he's a rare talent in mechanics."
Hayate shrugged. "Do what you want, Wesley. Just don't be late for the meeting."