svetikya Page 12
Page 12
Hawke was the first to react.
His face instantly regained its impeccable smile as the host of the banquet, as if all the awkwardness and probing in the elevator had never happened.
He naturally stepped out of the elevator and stood in front of Norman and his son, blocking their view of Natasha inside the elevator.
“Mr. Osborne, Harry,” Hawke’s voice was steady and warm, as if it were a chance encounter, “the climax of the dinner is just beginning. Did you two miss any exciting auction items?”
Norman shifted his gaze from Hawke's face back to Tony, who was half-supporting, half-carrying the supermodel as he walked out of the elevator. A cold, sarcastic smile curled at the corner of his lips.
"Wonderful?" Norman's voice wasn't loud, but it clearly reached everyone present. "General Ross just bought something that looks like a 'half-knuckle duster,' which is said to be able to open portals with magic. But compared to your show, that seems insignificant."
His gaze swept meaningfully between Tony, Hawke, and Natasha. "The president of Stark Industries left the charity gala midway through with a female companion, and then came out of the elevator with Mr. Lane and this... 'Ms. Romanova'? This plot is far more exciting than the auction. It seems there's a special... Stark scent in the elevator."
These words were barbed and sarcastic, both mocking Tony's womanizing ways and alluding to the chaos that might have occurred in the elevator, while also dragging Hawke and Natasha into the fray.
The atmosphere instantly became tense.
21 For the great cause of S.H.I.E.L.D. [Seeking flowers and favorites]
Tony, thick-skinned as ever, flashed a "V" sign at the flashing lights, completely unconcerned.
Hawke's smile remained unchanged.
Natasha, on the other hand, was like a perfect vase, with a polite, sarcastic smile on her face that seemed to be unable to understand English, but a cold glint flashed quickly in the depths of her eyes.
The elevator doors slowly closed behind me, isolating me from the floors below.
On the top floor, the aroma of champagne seemed to carry a hint of gunpowder.
Hawke bypassed Norman and went straight to reassure the other guests.
He didn't even need Shen Shiya to tell that Norman Osborne's genetic disease was already terminal.
Otherwise, the founder of a top conglomerate, a tycoon who has spent his whole life fighting in the business world, wouldn't act like a foolish college student, completely lacking in shrewdness and like a clown.
The breathtaking confrontation at the top-floor banquet hall near the elevator doors still seems to be right before my eyes.
Natasha Romanov had already left the banquet, washed away her finery, changed into a black combat uniform for ease of movement, and simply tied her red hair back.
She was in Coulson's car, reporting to Nick Fury, who was in a Quinjet fighter jet, via a highly encrypted communication channel.
“The target, Hawk Lane,” Natasha’s voice was calm and professional, devoid of the flair she displayed at the dinner party or the tension she felt in the elevator, “He not only completely saw through my disguise—Natalia Romanova, the international intelligence broker—but more importantly…”
Natasha paused, a pause that seemed to freeze the air on the other end of the communication line.
“He knew without a doubt that I was an ‘Agent of S.H.I.E.L.D.’, and, Director, he knew of your existence, knew that you were the Director of S.H.I.E.L.D., Nicholas Joseph Fury.”
Inside the Quinjet:
Fury's sharp gaze seemed to pierce through the screen, fixed on Natasha.
His knuckles were slightly white from the force he was applying to the control panel.
Coulson, standing next to Natasha, gasped and sat up straight instinctively, his face filled with disbelief.
"He even knows my full name?" Fury's voice was deep. "The exact wording? Natasha, not a single word."
"His exact words were: 'However, if S.H.I.E.L.D. is interested in my 'luck,' Director Fury could simply ask me out for coffee. Why send the infamous Black Widow to my bed?'"
Natasha accurately repeated Hawke's words in the elevator, every syllable crystal clear: "He directly stated my code name, your full name, and the name of the organization."
A deathly silence fell over the fighter jet.
Only the deep roar of the engine serves as the background.
Fury slowly leaned back in his chair, his one eye fixed on Natasha on the communication screen, seemingly processing this extremely impactful information.
Coulson looked bewildered: "This is beyond all our assessments! Chief, what measures should we take?"
Fury paused for a moment, his fingers tapping unconsciously on the console, a signature gesture when he was thinking rapidly.
But seemingly without success, his gaze returned to Natasha's face:
"Agent Romanov, your communicator signal went completely silent for two hours and seven minutes during the dinner. Explain."
Fury's voice carried an unquestionable questioning tone, a crucial element of the mission report.
Natasha's face remained expressionless, but the communication screen seemed to freeze subtly for three seconds.
Even Coulson held his breath and looked at Natasha. Was she really doing Smith squats at that moment?
Natasha raised an eyebrow, her voice remaining steady, professional, and even carrying a hint of businesslike formality:
“Chief, the reason my communicator was silent was because I was in the core security area of the Lane Building during that time period. Any active signal transmission would be detected and located by its advanced shielding system, greatly increasing the risk of exposure. Maintaining silence is a requirement of standard covert operations procedures.”
She paused for a moment, as if stating an objective fact, and continued:
"As for the specifics of the activities, as the mission report states, it was a 'necessary contact' to gain the target's trust, establish specific channels, and conduct close assessments. Hawk Lane himself clearly viewed it as a kind of... 'warm-up' before negotiations. This action provided the means to obtain their knowledge of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s intelligence."
She spoke extremely tactfully, using precise wording to avoid direct description, but the combination of words like "establishing specific channels," "necessary contact," "close assessment," and "warm-up," along with the two missing hours, made the meaning crystal clear.
Coulson coughed tactically, his gaze drifting somewhat to the outside of the car window.
Fury's one eye seemed to twitch slightly.
A rare, unspoken emotion, known as "speechlessness," briefly crossed the dark face of the director of S.H.I.E.L.D., who was known for his ruthlessness and control.
He certainly understood what Natasha meant.
For the mission, for the great cause of S.H.I.E.L.D., she worked with Hawke Lane for two hours straight.
Moreover, it sounds like Hawke orchestrated this "warm-up" and used the opportunity to lay his cards on the table.
A few seconds of silence followed, and the atmosphere inside the fighter jet became somewhat tense.
Fury stopped tapping.
"Target... how he performs in his 'warm-up' state?" Fury finally spoke, his tone regaining its composure, but the question was exceptionally sharp and crucial, concerning a further assessment of Hawke's physical and mental state.
He needed to know whether, in that situation, Hawke was either a relaxed prey or a hunter in complete control.
Natasha's answer was resolute and without the slightest hesitation: "He remained clear-headed throughout, in complete control, and his vigilance never wavered. Chief, it was more like a stress test he orchestrated. This further confirms the conclusion that the neurotoxin perfume was ineffective against him."
A flicker of understanding and a deeper sense of apprehension crossed Fury’s single eye.
Sure enough.
Even at that moment, Hawke Lane remained crystal clear-headed, even using Natasha as a stage to demonstrate his power.
Then, Fury precisely cut to the next key point: "During that 'close assessment,' Agent Romanov describes the target's physiological characteristics, habitual mannerisms, unconscious preferences, reactions to specific stimuli... anything. Even the most minute, seemingly insignificant intelligence."
22. Hawke demonstrated extraordinary physical reserves. [Please give flowers and add to favorites!]
This is extremely important intelligence; sometimes even a very small habit can be a fatal trump card.
The battlefield for top agents is everywhere, especially in bed. When a target is in an extremely relaxed or focused state, even if they remain highly vigilant, it is still easy for them to reveal their true selves.
Silence fell over the fighter jet. Coulson also pricked up his ears, hoping that Black Widow could extract golden pieces of intelligence from that "necessary contact."
Natasha was silent.
It wasn't the precise pause during a task report, but a rare blankness that almost made you feel her thoughts drifting away.
On the communication screen, her usually calm and composed face seemed to change for a fleeting moment, so subtle that it was too fast to be detected.
“During the assessment,” Natasha began, her voice still steady but with an indescribable fluency, as if describing a work of art worthy of appreciation, “target Hawk Lane demonstrated extraordinary physical reserves, with excellent coordination between core muscle control and explosive power, and top-notch dynamic balance.”
She paused, seemingly recalling details: "In terms of technique, it combines strength and precision. Its tactical movements... are aggressive but not reckless, demonstrating a profound understanding of human mechanics and biological structure, and a masterful grasp of human weaknesses. Its control of rhythm is masterful; it skillfully utilizes the environment and applies psychological pressure."
Coulson's jaw shrugged slightly. The description sounded...like a battle briefing, yet carried an eerie tone of admiration.
He glanced at Fury furtively.
Fury's face darkened further, becoming like a piece of cold cast iron.
“Agent Romanov,” Fury’s voice was low and menacing, each word laced with icy coldness, “I’m asking you if you’ve observed any intelligence details that could help us analyze his psychological state, potential weaknesses, or background clues. Not asking you to write a physical assessment report on his performance in bed!”
Fury practically choked out the last few words.
Natasha seemed to suddenly realize something, pulling herself out of that unconscious state of "professional appreciation".
Her face instantly regained the absolute composure befitting a secret agent, as if that evaluation had never happened.
“Reporting to the Director,” her voice returned to its cold, objective tone, “the target maintained a high level of concentration throughout the entire process, with all defense mechanisms activated. No lapses, unconscious habits, or exploitable physical or psychological weaknesses were observed. Their willpower was extremely strong, and their alertness to the environment never wavered.”
She added definitively, "Apart from the above objective descriptions of their physical capabilities and combat skills, no useful intelligence was obtained."
Silence fell once again inside the fighter jet.
Coulson tactically cleared his throat, feeling the air so thick it was hard for him to breathe.
He dared not look at Fury, nor at Natasha beside him.
Fury's one eye was fixed on Natasha, his gaze seemingly trying to pierce through her and see what lay hidden beneath her calm exterior.
A feeling of "absurdity" welled up in his heart.
Hawk Lane... is he really that awesome?
It was so powerful that even his top agents were captivated by it!
He began to have some doubts about Natasha for the first time, and decided to try again. Fortunately, at Hawke's alma mater, Columbia University, two excellent new agents were sent in.
However, during the period surrounding the Bates Capital incident, multiple intelligence agencies planted spies at Columbia University to contact Hawke, but S.H.I.E.L.D. has not yet obtained their complete list.
However, in any case, S.H.I.E.L.D. must move faster than other intelligence agencies.
After pondering for a few seconds, he slowly leaned back in his chair, his voice devoid of emotion, yet carrying an immense weight:
"Understood. Complete the mission report with all the details. Agent Romanov, after the mission, you need to write an extremely detailed post-mission report. Every point of contact, every line of dialogue, every detail observed, whether you think it's valuable or not. Also, double your physical training."
He paused, a cold glint flashing in his one eye, and added pointedly:
“Especially the Smith squats…add another hundred.”
He leaned forward slightly, his single eye fixed on Natasha on the communication screen:
"Now, arrange a meeting as he suggested, the sooner the better."
Fury didn't use the word "negotiation," but rather "meeting," which both echoed Hawke's original words in the elevator and indicated that S.H.I.E.L.D., or rather, Fury, was willing to initiate dialogue in a relatively equal manner.
Communications cut off.
Coulson held his breath, stealing a glance at Natasha. Her beautiful face showed nothing but the professional coldness of someone who had just finished a mission.