The winter cemetery looked completely white, the white crosses or headstones hardly distinguishable from the ground. Only a few empty graves awaited their owners, each a dark pit like a deep well one would never climb out of.
The snow crunched under pressure, and occasionally some dry branches would be crushed on the frozen ground, as several people slowly approached the car parked by the roadside.
However, it was at this moment that Su Ming suddenly sensed a surge of murderous intent.
"Get down!"
He pressed Howard down just as a bullet flew past the spot where Howard had just been. Without hesitation, Su Ming dragged him behind a headstone, a temporarily safe position.
Howard's beard was covered in snow, and there was a small wound on his lips, but he remained calm.
"Is it aimed at me?"
"Yes, if I'm not mistaken, that shot was intended to blow up your heart," Su Ming hid behind another headstone.
"Did you bring a gun?" Howard felt around himself and pulled out a small mirror.
Of course, he had brought a gun. In fact, Su Ming was carrying enough firearms to start a small war. Unfortunately, he couldn't use them. His identity couldn't be revealed; for now, he was a powerless businessman, completely clean with no combat skills.
Judging by the firepower density, there was only one sniper, just aiming for the heart rather than the head, suggesting the shooter had a military or police background, not a true expert.
Confident snipers typically prefer headshots because they're more lethal. Professional assassins like Death Shooter could shoot a bullet through a target's left ear and let it exit through the right.
Snipers with a military or police background typically don't work alone; they'd have a spotter. That's their operating style, especially in this post-World War II era, where gun technology required a lot of calculations, making spotters essential.
"I have a cigar cutter, will that help?"
Howard held the small mirror over the tombstone, turning it back and forth to find the enemy's position. With little cover around the cemetery, if the gunman wasn't far, he'd surely be visible.
But a cigar cutter? Howard cast a resentful glance at Su Ming: "The gunman is at least three hundred meters away and hidden. I can't see him."
Su Ming glanced at Sharon and her child on the other side. They too were hiding behind a headstone. The owner of this grave seemed to have some money, as a large angel sculpture adorned the headstone.
"Let's find a way to escape. My car is bulletproof, its armor made of the same material as the Iron Wall Tank, just thinner."
"The gunman might be changing his position; we don't have much safe time. Let's do it." Howard put away the mirror, pursing his lips, "I'll draw fire, you start the car."
With that, he began to undress, removing his coat and hat.
The coat was woolen, retaining some stiffness even when removed. He placed the hat on the coat's collar, carefully lifting the coat as if holding a surfboard.
Then his hat went flying, pierced by a rounded bullet hole, slightly scorched from the heat.
Howard took a deep breath, that was terrifying, such quick reflexes.
But something was faster than the enemy's gunfire. As Howard drew attention, Su Ming started to run, using headstones as cover, successfully reaching his car while deliberately slowing his pace.
In a seamless action, he opened the door and started the engine. The car bulldozed through headstones, crashing directly into the cemetery. Su Ming wasn't lying about the car; it was, indeed, a wheeled tank.
With the engine roaring and dirt flying, the snow was thrown skyward, falling again as the black sedan skidded to the attack side of everyone.
"Get in!"
Taking cover behind the car, Howard stooped down to pull Sharon and Charles, and they all squeezed into the back seat.
Bullets rained down on the car, a volley of sparks almost continuous, proving Su Ming's conjecture correct. The enemy had a spotter, and now they were also firing an automatic rifle.
But their positions were thus exposed, precisely in the bell tower of a distant church, Howard's estimate was accurate, about 300 meters away.
This was why Su Ming insisted he wasn't armed; even taking out a handgun to hit a target 300 meters away would be unimaginably absurd, something that couldn't be explained by luck.
"Get down low, the glass isn't bulletproof." As Su Ming quickly turned the steering wheel, the tires screeched against the ground, turning the car around for a quick escape.
Howard pressed Sharon and Charles beneath the backseat, laying flat in the back seat himself, "Damn it, I'm researching bulletproof glass when we get back, the kind that can withstand anti-tank rounds."
Su Ming slammed on the accelerator, widening the gap between him and the sniper. The sniper had tried to shoot the tires but being a bulletproof vehicle, Su Ming's car boasted solid tires.
This type of tire is typically used on armored trucks or construction vehicles like bulldozers or forklifts, with higher load capacity and safety.
"Don't ever say that nonsense again; we've heard enough on the battlefield."
As the car swerved forward, they were safe. In this era, achieving a hit beyond 800 meters with a rifle was nearly impossible. Su Ming quickly began to mock Howard's words.
"You mean when soldiers tell others they'll be home for Christmas, only to die on the battlefield immediately?" Howard relaxed, taking out a handkerchief to wipe the cold sweat from his forehead.
"Well, there are many similar ones, like someone secretly looking at pictures of beautiful women; having an affair with a nurse at a field hospital; suddenly wanting to go to the bathroom in the trenches, all these are bad omens."
Su Ming listed a few examples.
It's like in horror movies where at least one of the couples rolling in bed must die, it's that uncanny.
Howard shook his head, disagreeing with this view: "I've matched all of those, and I'm still alive and kicking."
"That's because you weren't a soldier before, but now we're on the battlefield."
"Damn, who could it be?" Howard didn't linger on the previous issue but instead racked his brains about the possible enemies.
Sharon was still trying to reassure her son in her panic, but Charles seemed even calmer than her and was comforting her in return.
Su Ming glanced in the rear-view mirror; there were no pursuers, just the glare from Charles' bald head reflecting back.
The mystery of Professor X's hair has always remained unsolved; in the movie version, young Charles had a head full of luscious black curls, even naturally curly, and in many versions of the comic, he had hair, with the baldness coming later.
One theory is that the influence of his powerful psychic ability cost him his ability to move his lower limbs and his hair.
Another theory is that it was Magneto who caused his paralysis, and the hair loss was due to medication.
The young Charles in front of them is somewhat like the comic book version, but... without hair. Is this due to changes in the timeline?
Because the flooding in New York didn't happen but it burned instead. The Xaviers didn't go to research the toxic seawater but participated in the atomic bomb project, so could the radiation have affected young Charles?
The last time they saw older Charles, he didn't show much ability, but blocking others' consciousness seemed effortless for him, meaning this Charles' power might be even stronger than that of the 616 Universe?
After thinking about it briefly, Su Ming quickly let go of this issue, deciding that careful observation in the future would suffice. The priority wasn't this right now.
He responded to Howard's words. The playboy was now trembling because of the adrenaline wearing off.
"It's not Hydra, although I hate to admit it, Hydra's special agents should have much better marksmanship."
"I almost died, so their marksmanship is good enough for me." Howard managed to force a smile.
Su Ming pulled out a pack of cigarettes and tossed it to him to calm him down; nicotine was very helpful: "Why are they trying to kill you? Howard, what have you been up to lately?"
"Me? Recently, I slept with a few actresses, bought a few buildings, learned some cooking, took a trip offshore, but I don't know who it could upset."
Howard pulled out a cigarette and lit it, getting lost in his memories while looking at the luxurious car interior. Was it possible some woman loved him so much they wanted to kill him?
Su Ming rolled his eyes: "Who asked you that? I'm asking what your research project with the SSR is?"
"Oh, that. Lately, I've been working with Dr. Zola on research about rockets. The military wants to put nuclear bombs on rockets. Next time if a new Xiaohuzi emerges, we'll press a button and flatten Berlin. Zola has a lot of knowledge about the V2 rockets, so the two geniuses have made significant progress lately."
"Howard?" Sharon's eyes widened as she shook her head at Howard, her face lengthening.
The SSR's research projects were strictly confidential, yet here he was, blurting it out!
Howard looked puzzled before quickly shifting to resignation. He waved her off; there's nothing really to keep secret.
Sharon still didn't understand what kind of power capital holds in this country. If Slade wanted to find something out, projects like this couldn't be kept from him.
"Was Dr. Brian Xavier with you before his death?" Su Ming asked again.
"No, his project was independent. I have no idea." Howard shook his head, indicating he didn't know. While he was a genius physicist, Brian was a polymath with accomplishments in physics, chemistry, and biology: "Sharon, do you know? Did he ever come home and tell you?"
"Confidentiality agreement, Howard, he never said a word." Sharon held her head in her hands, bending down to cry again: "I only wish sometimes he wasn't so by-the-book."
"And you? Little Charles, what did you see?" Just because nothing was said officially doesn't mean nobody knows anything. Charles, still unable to fully control his powers, must have had some information seep into his mind.
Little Charles glanced at his mother, Sharon, who was watching him with concern. The power to read minds was terrifying, and once anyone found out, they'd definitely want to silence him.
But Charles still spoke up; he wanted to know why his father had died: "I don't know much. My parents were rarely home, but I do know the name of his project. It's called 'Black Womb'.
"I see. Slade, take us to Caspian Camp. I'll ask around there." Howard immediately made a note.
Caspian Camp was where Captain America had been trained. After the war, the underground there had been transformed into SSR Headquarters, which was now expanding its reach across the globe from that base.
Sharon opened her mouth but then closed it again, focusing on stroking Charles' head. Howard had exposed the headquarters' location again, wearing her out.
Su Ming shook his head and lit up a cigarette himself: "No need, I know about the Black Womb project. I have to say, Dr. Xavier's death was a waste."
Howard shrugged at Sharon, feigning innocence: "See, I told you he knows everything."