When Hawk returned home, he wasn't just dragging a twenty-inch suitcase—he also had a courier envelope in his hand.
The delivery boy had handed it to him, saying it came by express from New York University that very afternoon.
New York University?
Dropping the suitcase aside, Hawk sat on the couch and tore open the envelope.
Inside was an official admission letter—Law School, NYU—stamped and sealed, with a full scholarship attached.
"Damn…"
His brows furrowed. So this was real. Not just a promise, but already processed.
A gift… with no strings attached?
He grabbed his phone, scrolled to the most recent outgoing call, and hit redial.
The line clicked, and a woman's delighted voice came through.
"Hawk!"
"I received your gift," he said evenly.
"That's wonderful—but wait, the NYU letter isn't the gift. That was just a welcome present."
Hawk froze. "Oh?"
"The true gift," Anna continued, "is in the message I left you online. You haven't checked?"
Hawk muttered a quick "hold on," turned on his hotspot, and powered up his old laptop.
The same underground forum opened. Same chat box.
But now, a new line of text glowed on the screen, time-stamped just before noon:
"New Jersey. Lake Calver. Bruce Banner and Betty Ross will spend their Christmas holiday there this year."
Hawk's breath deepened, the muscles along his jaw tightening.
The Hulk.
"Is this reliable?"
"Confirmed," Anna replied sweetly. "So far, neither Bruce Banner nor Miss Ross has altered their plans. The cabin reservation remains in place."
Her tone carried a smile.
"Do you like this gift, Hawk?"
"Call me Hawk," he corrected, voice low. "And yes. I like it very much. What do you want from me?"
Anna's laugh was light.
"This is what friends do—gifts without expectation. Unless… you don't consider me a friend yet?"
"If this information proves true," Hawk said gravely, "then from this moment, you have my friendship."
He didn't bother guessing what power backed her. Probably Hydra.
So what?
He'd long since lost any illusions about Marvel's so-called heroes. If Hydra gave him what he needed, that was enough.
Winners wrote history; losers were called villains. Simple.
And Hawk had always lived by one creed:
"I repay kindness. And I repay grudges."
"Anna," he said, his voice steady, "whatever you want—if I can give it, I will. As long as this intel is real."
Anna, however, insisted:
"This is just a gift between friends, nothing more."
He didn't press her.
Instead, Hawk chuckled. "Actually… there is something you might help me with. A trade."
"Please," she said, intrigued.
"I need iron meteorite. As much as possible. Before Christmas."
"How much?"
"As much as you can get. I can't pay you. But name something you want from me—and if I can provide it, deal."
There was silence. Hawk imagined her checking with whatever shadowy superior truly pulled strings. He didn't rush. He even put the phone on speaker and pulled up satellite maps, searching "Lake Calver, New Jersey."
Finally, Anna's voice returned, softer now, almost cautious.
"Really… anything?"
"As long as I have it."
Her breath caught. Then, slowly, she asked:
"Then… could we have some of your blood?"
Hawk arched an eyebrow.
…
(End of Chapter)
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