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"So… you're a Zoan-type Devil Fruit user?" Ivan Vanko said calmly, his eyes fixed on Hawkeye with a strange, burning intensity. "That kind of power really is something else."
There was no panic in him at all, only fascination, the kind that made him look more like a scientist witnessing a breakthrough than a prisoner in the middle of a firefight.
'So this is what a Devil Fruit can do…'
If he could get that kind of power and combine it with his own technology, his odds of killing Tony Stark would rise sharply. Just the thought of it made his pulse quicken. In that instant, Vanko became even more certain that robbing gold to buy a Devil Fruit had been the right move.
"Watch yourself," Hawkeye said curtly.
He did not waste time answering Vanko. In one smooth motion, Clint grabbed him, shot Natasha a quick signal, then snapped his wings open and launched into the air.
*Whoosh!*
Natasha finally exhaled, just a little. With Clint taking Vanko and getting airborne, this should have been over. It should have been clean from here.
Then her expression changed.
A low, distant roar rolled across the sky, deep and heavy, the kind of sound that hit your chest before your ears.
Her blood ran cold.
That was the sound of a fighter jet, and this operation hadn't included any air support.
*Whoosh!*
Sure enough, the next second, a fighter jet streaked across the sky, racing after Hawkeye.
Natasha's eyes widened, and then it got worse.
*RAT-TAT-TAT-TAT!*
Twin Gatling cannons came alive. Two blazing streams of tracer fire ripped through the air, cutting bright, violent lines across the sky as the jet opened fire on Hawkeye without the slightest hesitation.
"This is insane…" Natasha stared upward, stunned for a fraction of a second.
They were over a crowded city district. There were civilians, apartments, traffic, and they were firing aircraft cannons like this was an open battlefield. No warning, no restraint, no concern for collateral damage.
From the Winter Soldier's appearance, to the mercenary team, to this full-on aerial assault, every piece of it pointed to the same conclusion. Whoever was behind this was not just powerful. They had reach, resources, and the kind of authority that made laws and consequences feel optional.
But for what?
Arc reactor technology?
Natasha's jaw tightened. The tech was advanced, yes, but this level of response was madness. Then again, Nick Fury himself had been obsessed with finding Vanko. He had treated this mission like the most important thing in the world.
A chill crawled up Natasha's spine.
The miniature arc reactor had to mean more than she understood. It was not just a power source. It was not just stolen tech. It had to represent something bigger, something dangerous enough to make men like Fury and others move this aggressively.
Unfortunately, Fury was not the kind of man who explained anything he didn't absolutely have to.
Natasha forced the thought aside. This was not the time to dig into secrets.
She hit comms immediately. "Sir, Clint has Vanko, but there's a fighter jet pursuing him!"
*Whoosh! Whoosh!*
Before she even finished the sentence, two more fighter jets screamed overhead, cutting across the sky in tight formation.
Natasha looked up in silence, "…."
This had gone completely off the rails. They were all in now, and one thing was clear.
They were not stopping until they got Ivan Vanko.
"They're sending three," Natasha said grimly, eyes locked on the sky. "Three jets."
"I see them," Fury replied, his voice tight and ugly over the comms. Natasha could hear it clearly, anger and concern tangled together.
Three fighter jets at once. Even Hawkeye could not shrug that off.
Fury had underestimated them.
He had gone into this operation believing that once Barton was in play, the outcome was secure. Barton was no longer just an elite agent. He was a Devil Fruit user, one of Fury's strongest assets, and Fury knew exactly what that meant. Unless another top-tier power user appeared, there should have been no one on-site capable of stopping him. With a trump card like that, the mission should have been airtight.
But Fury had miscalculated one thing.
Hydra's insanity.
They were willing to scramble fighter jets over a crowded city and unleash live fire without hesitation, just to secure one man.
Hydra.
Yes, Fury knew exactly who those "mercenaries" were. They could fool Natasha, and probably anyone else on the team, but not him. They could not hide from someone who could read minds, and Fury had seen enough to know the truth.
Then Hawkeye's voice cut through the channel.
"Sir!" Hawkeye's comm crackled with wind and static. "Their firepower is too heavy… I can't hold much longer—!"
The transmission came through rough and strained, then broke apart into a burst of static before cutting out completely. The distance had opened too far, and the speed of the chase was ruining the signal.
Fury's face hardened.
*BANG! BANG! BANG!*
Gunfire hammered the car he was using as cover, rounds punching fresh holes through the doors and spidering the glass. Fury snapped back into the moment and returned fire while shouting out hurried orders to the agents still alive around him, but he already knew the truth.
It would not matter.
Nothing he did down here would change what was happening in the sky. Barton was running out of time, and no amount of skill could let one man fight three jets head-on, not while carrying Ivan Vanko as extra weight.
And sure enough, the outcome arrived exactly the way Fury feared it would.
Under relentless pursuit and heavy fire, Hawkeye was hit.
He dropped out of the sky.
He slammed into the ground with enough force to leave a huge crater, concrete and dirt blasting outward from the impact. By the time the dust settled, Barton's body had gone limp.
He was unconscious.
"Barton…!"
"Clint!"
He did not know how long he had been out. The world came back in pieces, sound first, then pain, then the weight of his own body. He forced his eyes open and found Fury and Natasha standing over him, both of them battered and bloodstained, faces drawn tight with exhaustion.
"Where's Ivan Vanko?" Clint asked immediately, ignoring the pain and the blood on his own face.
Fury and Natasha said nothing.
Clint looked from one to the other, and the answer hit him before either of them spoke. The light in his eyes dimmed. "…We failed, didn't we?"
"Yes," Fury said at last, voice heavy. "We failed this time."
His expression hardened as he looked down at Clint, anger and calculation already replacing the shock. "Which means what comes next will be worse. Pull yourself together, Barton."
"I will, sir," Clint replied quietly.
With Natasha supporting him, they helped him into the waiting car. Fury climbed in after them and shut the door.
"Drive," he ordered.
The vehicle pulled away, tires rolling over broken pavement and scattered debris, but the atmosphere inside was suffocating. No one spoke. The silence felt thick enough to choke on. Fury sat rigid in his seat, face dark and hard, fury written so clearly across it that it looked like it might spill over if anyone said the wrong word.
Ivan Vanko had been taken by Hydra.
That was the only fact that mattered now, and it carried consequences Fury understood better than anyone else in that car. With Vanko in their hands, Hydra no longer had a technical barrier standing in their way. They would get the Arc Reactor technology. They would refine it, weaponize it, and once they did, they would move to the next step.
Mass production.
Iron armor.
An army of steel.
Fury stared ahead through the windshield, jaw locked tight. If Hydra succeeded, the balance of power would collapse overnight. Governments would not even understand what had happened until it was already over. By the time anyone reacted, Hydra could be everywhere at once, backed by weapons decades ahead of the world.
When that happened, who could stop them?
Fury did not say the thought out loud, but the answer in his mind was clear. If he allowed this to continue, the world would pay for it.
'I have to stop this.' His eye narrowed, cold and absolute.
'No matter the cost.'
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Next Chapter: Iron Man's Former Flame
Next Next Chapter: Memory or Purification?
Next Next Next Chapter: The Fruit That Purifies Evil
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