svetikya Page 86
Page 86
These three words became the final straw that broke Loki's back.
The light in his eyes was completely extinguished.
He gave Thor a deep look, then released his grip.
"Do not--!"
Thor let out a roar, watching helplessly as Loki's figure fell into the endless darkness and was swallowed by the sea of stars.
Chapter 99 Steve, Welcome to the 21st Century
Chu Hang returned to his office on the top floor of the Stark Tower. It was dark.
He poured himself a glass of water and stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling window. Below him stretched New York City, its lights like a flowing river.
Quiet. He didn't like this kind of quiet.
Thor went to New Mexico for a fight, which warmed up his muscles, but he was even more bored. Thor returned to Asgard, Loki fell into the abyss of space, and suddenly there was nothing on Earth that could lift his spirits.
Peace means having nothing to do.
There was a document on the table, Stark Industries' quarterly report. He picked it up and glanced at it; the energy sector's profits had increased by three hundred percent. All thanks to Tony's triangular reactor. That guy has a foul mouth, but he's a real workhorse.
Chu Hang casually tossed the report back onto the table, the paper sliding half a meter away. The strings of numbers meant nothing to him. He was more interested in knowing when the next fun "toy" would arrive.
There was a light knock on the office door.
Natasha Romanov walked in. She was dressed in a business suit and holding a tablet computer. Her expression was perfectly normal, and it was impossible to tell what she was thinking.
“Mr. Chen, here’s the exploration report for Project Polaris.” She handed him the tablet.
Project Polaris.
Stark Industries' deep-sea exploration project—that's the official story. The real purpose, known only to Chu Hang and a handful of others, is to find the "Valkyrie," the plane that crashed into the Arctic Ocean seventy years ago.
He was the one who instructed him to do this. He needs to find Steve.
"Any results?" Chu Hang took the tablet, the cold light from the screen reflecting on his face.
“Yes,” Natasha said calmly. “The exploration team discovered a huge metallic signal in the Greenland Sea, at coordinates 75°N, 72°W. Sonar scans show it’s a World War II bomber, and the model matches.”
Chu Hang swiped his finger across the screen, looking at the green, blurry sonar images. A pile of scrap metal, sunk thousands of meters deep on the seabed.
What's inside?
“There are unusual life signals.” Natasha paused, as if searching for the right word. “There’s a signal, very weak, but extremely stable. The exploration team thinks it might be some deep-sea creature parasitizing the plane wreckage.”
Chu Hang's lips twitched slightly.
Unknown creature? No. That was super-soldier serum, which reduced a person's metabolism to almost zero in the icy sea. Feigned death.
He returned the tablet to Natasha.
“Notify Nick Fury,” Chu Hang ordered. “Tell him that I’ve found what he’s been searching for for decades. Have his men retrieve it. Use Stark Industries’ encrypted channels, and leave no written records.”
“Understood.” Natasha nodded, without asking a single unnecessary question. She knew her place perfectly well.
She turned to leave.
"Wait a minute," Chu Hang called out to her.
Natasha stopped and looked back at him.
"What would someone who has slept for seventy years want to see first thing when they wake up?" Chu Hang's question came out of nowhere.
Natasha paused for half a second, then quickly realized what she meant. She thought for a moment and said, "A familiar face."
"Smart." Chu Hang nodded. "Go."
Natasha left, and the office became quiet again.
Chu Hang walked to the liquor cabinet, poured himself a glass of whiskey, and added an ice cube. The ice cube gently clinked against the amber liquid. His unchanging face was reflected on the glass.
For an ordinary person, life is like a nap.
Names popped into my head. Dugan, Failsworth, Gabe… those Howling Commandos guys, they're probably all dead, their names now just names on tombstones. Peggy Carter, she must be an old woman now, with a full head of white hair, sitting in a wheelchair.
Only him, Logan, and Steve Rogers, who was about to wake up. They were forgotten by time.
The word rolled around in my mind; it felt both unfamiliar and real.
He took out a black satellite phone and dialed Nick Fury's number.
I answered the phone as soon as it rang.
“It’s me,” Chu Hang said.
“I know.” Fury’s voice was tired and a little wary. “Natasha contacted me. Mr. Chen, thank you.”
"It's not a thank you, it's an investment. I'm recovering my assets," Chu Hang said calmly. "When will the salvage begin?"
"It's already begun. S.H.I.E.L.D.'s icebreaker and salvage platform are heading over. It could be back in New York in as little as 48 hours."
“Very good,” Chu Hang said. “I want to see him.”
There was silence on the other end of the phone.
After a few seconds, Fury spoke cautiously: "Mr. Chen, we have a professional psychological assessment team and a recovery plan. A person who has been asleep for seventy years, suddenly seeing a new world, is very likely to have mental problems. We need a controlled environment."
“A controlled environment?” Chu Hang scoffed. “You mean, lock him in a fake hospital room, paint the walls the colors of the 1940s, find an actress to play a nurse, play some old baseball broadcasts, and lie to him that he’s only been in a coma for a few weeks?”
Fury fell silent again. He couldn't understand how Chu Hang knew about such a top-secret plan.
"Don't play childish games, Fury." Chu Hang's tone turned cold. "He's not an ordinary person; he's Captain America. His ears are sharper than a dog's. Your cheap gadgets won't fool him for more than three seconds. Imagine a startled super soldier running around your base—do you think that would be a huge loss?"
"...So what's your suggestion?" Fury's tone turned serious.
“I’ll go. The first person he sees when he wakes up is me.” Chu Hang’s tone left no room for negotiation. “A familiar face is more useful than a hundred of your psychologists. Your people will be watching from outside.”
“…Fine.” Fury finally gave in. He had no choice. As the bureau chief, he had no right to bargain with Chu Hang.
"Send me the address."
After Chu Hang finished speaking, he hung up the phone.
He finished his drink, and the ice cubes made their final popping sound in the empty glass.
Old friend, I've come to pick you up.
A secret medical facility belonging to S.H.I.E.L.D. in the suburbs of New York City.
There were heavily armed agents everywhere, and the atmosphere was very tense.
In the innermost observation room, Phil Coulson's palms were sweaty as he stared intently at the one-way mirror in front of him. Behind the glass was a fake hospital room decorated in the style of the 1940s. On the bed lay a blond man, connected to a bunch of medical equipment.
Captain America, Steve Rogers.
Coulson was so excited he could barely stand. This was his idol, alive and well.
The door to the observation room opened silently. Chu Hang walked in.
“Mr. Chen…” Coulson was startled and quickly stood up straight. He hadn’t heard any footsteps at all.
"How is the situation?" Chu Hang's gaze fell on Steve on the hospital bed.
“Vasculars stable, sir. Like…asleep,” Coulson reported. “The medical team has examined him; his physical functions are still at their peak for someone in their twenties. The super-soldier serum is a miracle.”
Chu Hang looked at the ridiculous scene behind the glass and shook his head.
“Turn off that baseball broadcast, it’s too noisy,” he ordered.
“But, sir, this is part of the contingency plan, to ensure that he…”
"I said, turn it off." Chu Hang's voice wasn't loud, but Coulson felt like he'd been pricked by a needle in his ear.
"Yes!" Coulson didn't dare to say another word and immediately turned off the sound on the control panel.
Chu Hang pushed open the door to the observation room and went inside.
He pulled up a chair, sat down beside Steve's bed, and watched him quietly.
That face was the same as it was on the Valkyrie. Young, stubborn, with a touch of Brooklyn. Even in his sleep, his brow was slightly furrowed, as if he were having a bad dream.
Chu Hang just sat there, doing nothing.
Time passed by minute by minute.
After an unknown amount of time, the person on the hospital bed twitched their eyelids.
Steve Rogers woke up.
His eyes snapped open, initially blank, then sharp as an eagle's. He sat up abruptly, scanning his surroundings warily.
White walls, old-fashioned furniture, and outside the window... the New York night view?
Everything was too new, too clean. There was no smell of disinfectant like in a hospital, only the smell of paint. The bed sheets were also made of the wrong material.
His gaze finally settled on the man sitting by the bed.
When he saw that face clearly, he froze.
He would never forget that face, not even in death. They hid from artillery shells together in the trenches, killed each other together at the Hydra base, and finally fell into the icy sea together.
"...Chu Hang?"
Steve's voice was dry and hoarse, like rusty iron scraping against something. He couldn't believe it.
"Did you sleep well, Captain?" Chu Hang looked at him and smiled.
Steve's mind was a mess. He looked at his hands, then at Chu Hang. An absurd thought, one he dared not entertain, popped into his head.
“Mission…” he struggled to speak, “the plane… Peggy, I made plans with her…”
"Mission accomplished, Steve," Chu Hang interrupted him, his voice flat. "We won. Red Skull is gone, and the plane didn't crash into New York."
Steve gasped for breath, threw back the covers, and tried to get out of bed. He had to get out of here; he had to know the truth.
"Where is this?" he asked warily.
Chu Hang ignored his question about the set design and gave him the answer directly.
“A safe place.” He stood up, walked to the window, and pulled back the curtains.
Outside the window, the night view was no longer fake. It was the real scene of this medical facility. Uniformed agents, futuristic corridors, and equipment flashing various lights.
A completely unfamiliar world.