A black sedan came to a stop in front of the Army and Navy Club...
Dressed in a tailored suit, Sean stepped inside. It's as if he had entered a gathering place straight out of the 1960s or 70s. The soft melodies of classical music, the polished marble floors, the retro wooden bar, and the nostalgic decor all gave the illusion of stepping back into the last century.
"Sean, long time no see."
General Ross, clad in a crisp military uniform, sat on a high swivel stool. He held a thick cigar between his fingers, tendrils of smoke curling lazily upward.
"Forgive me for not visiting sooner." Sean nodded apologetically.
In his current circle, President Underwood and General Ross were two indispensable chess pieces.
The former provided robust political support, while the latter was responsible for gradually building a network of connections.
"Young people being buried in work is understandable. Back when I was deployed overseas, I barely had time for family. Just don't neglect Betty."
The general waved off formalities with a smile, his amiable demeanor making it seem as though he truly regarded Sean as a son-in-law.
The young man possessed remarkable foresight and decisive execution, qualities that even the notoriously strict and demanding Ross admired. Especially since their relationship was mutually beneficial.
Taking it a step further would be a tremendous boon, both for his own career and his family's legacy.
At his age, retirement wasn't far off. Though the general considered himself still in good health and capable of achieving more, it was time to start thinking about the future.
Financially, General Ross had no worries. Military benefits were generous. Even the lowest-ranking brigadier generals earned between $8000 to $10 000 a month, while full generals took home upwards of $20 000. Senior officers also enjoyed free housing, food allowances, and uniform subsidies.
Given his tenure, his pension would likely exceed his active-duty salary. If he grew restless, he could always publish memoirs or consult for major corporations.
General Ross had devoted his entire life to his country. He left no loose ends, save for one... his only daughter, Betty.
Had Betty been a son, the general would have pulled every string to secure her a place in the military, ensuring she inherited his legacy. The Ross family had deep connections in the armed forces; even if she couldn't reach his heights, she'd have had a stable path.
But Betty was no soldier, nor had she any interest in military service... a fact that gnawed at the general. Fortunately, there was Sean; an ambitious and resourceful young man who had entered Ross's orbit.
"Congratulations on your appointment as S.H.I.E.L.D.'s supreme commander." Sean cleared his throat, steering the conversation elsewhere.
Without Nick Fury's stubborn resistance or Alexander Pierce's shadowy control, government intervention in S.H.I.E.L.D. was inevitable. No one would pass up the chance to rein in such a sprawling organization that was embedded in their soil.
"Just an interim role. Without the World Security Council's approval, I won't last long." Ross shrugged, clapping the younger man on the shoulder, "By the way, I owe you thanks. Those mutants under your command are remarkably obedient."
Had it not been for Sean's extensive intel on Hydra's inner workings, General Ross might not have secured his position.
S.H.I.E.L.D., long under Fury's grip, had developed its own entrenched power structure. Coupled with Pierce's deep infiltration, a thorough purge was no easy task.
"For now, I'm only holding S.H.I.E.L.D. together. To truly stabilize it, I'll need your help." Ross's tone turned serious, "The White House plans to appoint a senior advisor. I've recommended you."
Sean nodded, not refusing the offer. This was the perfect opportunity to embed himself within S.H.I.E.L.D. legally.
With the Superhero Registration Act in motion, the Avengers and all other superhumans would soon fall under government oversight.
"I can introduce you to an exceptional leader. With him, we can erase Nick Fury's influence for good." The young man said, then signaled the bartender for a whiskey.
With Fury and Pierce both out of the picture, S.H.I.E.L.D. would soon be his.
"Someone you praise so highly must be extraordinary." Ross couldn't hide his curiosity.
"He's a friend I made in Sokovia, Colonel Helmut Zemo, formerly of their elite forces. Trust me, he'll exceed your expectations." Sean didn't skimp on his admiration.
In the original timeline, this man had single-handedly dismantled the Avengers, achieving what countless villains had failed to do; sparking a civil war that turned allies against each other, nearly severing Iron Man and Captain America's bond, driving them to opposing sides.
Zemo was no superhuman. He lacked genius intellect or extraordinary abilities. But his patience and analytical brilliance had exposed the Avengers' weaknesses. And he had exploited them, one by one.
From one antagonist to another, Sean genuinely respected him. Hence the recommendation to General Ross. After purging Fury's loyalists and expelling Hydra, S.H.I.E.L.D. would need fresh blood, new forces to rebuild.
"There's one more thing." Sean took a sip from his glass, "I want the military to expedite the formation of an elite extraterrestrial combat unit."
With S.H.I.E.L.D. and Hydra's conflict resolved, Sean was setting his sights beyond Earth. It wouldn't be long before Asgard and the Dark Elves made their moves.
He wanted the world to see that the threats superheroes faced could be handled just as well, if not better, by the government's forces.
By then, the Avengers would be obsolete.
"Extraterrestrial combat?" Ross hesitated, as if recalling something, "Is this intel reliable?"
Asgard's existence was now common knowledge. Nations worldwide were preparing, and the World Security Council had initiated Project Insight for this very reason.
The confirmed presence of external threats had spurred global action. The Department of Defense had long advocated for a superhuman military division. Though plans had yet to materialize.
"Trust me, it's inevitable." Sean's eyes brimmed with confidence, "The military has been overshadowed by superheroes for too long. General, it's time the world remembered that America's safety and stability should be guarded by its armed forces, not the Avengers."
"But the bureaucrats in Congress..." Ross was clearly reluctant to gamble his political career.
One misstep could tarnish his legacy forever.
In every era, there were hawks and doves. Many in Congress believed Earth could establish peaceful relations with extraterrestrial civilizations, willfully ignoring the possibility of war.
"When disaster hits, they'll be on their knees, crying for their mothers." Sean's tone dripped with disdain.
His gaze locked onto the silver-haired general, as if peering straight into the man's wavering resolve, "You'll go down in history as a hero. Like Washington, like Lincoln. A century from now, your name will still be remembered."
The words reverberated in Ross's mind, striking like tidal waves against unyielding cliffs.
"Yes. I'll be a hero." The general's thoughts emptied, leaving only that mantra echoing.
"America needs you, General." Sean smiled faintly as he raised his glass.
The crystal-clear clink of their toast punctuated the air...