Blonsky unzipped the heavy-duty backpack and pulled out the laptop. He flipped open the lid, and a small, glossy photograph fluttered out from behind the screen, landing face-up on the dusty floor.
He bent to retrieve it. A young woman with dark hair smiled back at him from the print, caught in a moment of laughter.
"Seems he has an accomplice," Blonsky said, holding the photo up. "Probably the target's girlfriend."
General Ross took the photo from Blonsky's hand. He glanced at it for only a second, his expression carefully neutral, betraying nothing.
"This woman has nothing to do with the mission," Ross stated flatly. "Banner lives alone. They haven't been in contact for years."
Blonsky, unaware the woman in the photograph was Ross's own daughter, Betty, accepted the dismissal and put the picture down.
"General, there's a situation that needs discussion."
Blonsky took a visible breath, steadying himself, his voice tight. "Today's target, Bruce Banner, isn't an ordinary person. He transformed. Became some kind of green monster. It... it threw a forklift at me like it was a softball. Far more terrifying than the average transcendent."
He paused, letting the statement hang in the humid air. "General, his combat power exceeded one hundred fifty points. The scouter exploded because of it."
Ross stopped walking. The gravel crunched under his boots as he turned slowly to face Blonsky, his eyes narrowed. "Wait. What was the combat power reading?"
Blonsky held up the destroyed scouter. It was a mangled piece of plastic and wiring, with faint wisps of smoke still rising from the fried circuits.
"Over one fifty," Blonsky repeated. "Unless the instrument malfunctioned."
Ross stared at the ruined device. He wasn't frightened by that number. A slow, thin smile touched his lips. He was delighted.
Bruce Banner was even more powerful than he had imagined. One hundred fifty points. The potential was terrifying, and absolutely necessary.
"I'll need to ask Smith Doyle if it's a malfunction," Ross said, his voice quiet, "or if the device explodes after exceeding one fifty."
Blonsky's focus was still on the fight, his jaw set. "General, if we're facing transcendent at this level, I need advance warning next time. We can formulate better engagement strategies."
Ross looked at Blonsky, a long, appraising stare. "Son, you did excellent work today. But that creature could have been neutralized with tranquilizers before transformation. We missed our window."
"All right," Ross said, turning away. "Prepare to return home."
He walked away first, his back straight. The rest of the team gathered their gear and followed.
The vibration of the helicopter rattled Ross's bones as he made the call.
In New York, evening had fallen, casting the city in neon and shadows. Smith Doyle, already aware of Mr. X's earlier report about the two Dragon Balls in vampire possession and the successful delivery of the battle ticket, saw Ross's name flash on his screen. He guessed immediately. The capture had failed.
"Smith. I need to consult you about something."
"Go ahead, General."
Ross didn't waste time on pleasantries. The roar of the rotors was loud in the background. "Is there an upper limit to the scouter? What happens if it exceeds one fifty?"
Smith leaned back in his chair, a small smile playing on his lips. Ross had encountered the Hulk, and the scouter had exploded exactly as designed.
"Ah. The first-generation scouter's upper limit is one hundred fifty points," Smith explained smoothly. "Exceeding that value causes a hardware overload and detonation. Don't worry, though. The explosion is contained, it won't harm the user at all."
Ross caught the implication immediately. "First generation? Does that mean your second generation is ready for market?"
Smith laughed, a dry, business-like sound. "Soon. Very soon."
He had no intention of releasing the second-generation detector until the first-generation inventory sold out. Current market threats didn't require the upgraded models yet. He just needed them available before the New York incident.
"Notify us when it launches," Ross said gruffly. "The military will want to upgrade."
He ended the call without a goodbye. His desire to capture Bruce Banner had only intensified.
Combat power over one fifty. Invincible. If they could capture and study him, maybe even create controllable Hulks... Ross stared out the window at the dark clouds. He made a decision. He needed to enhance his personnel. Blonsky was the perfect candidate.
After losing their target, Ross flew the team straight back to the Pentagon in New York. He led Blonsky deep into the facility, into a vast, climate-controlled armory. The air smelled of grease and cold steel. The space was filled with inert military hardware. Armored vehicles, M1 Abrams tanks, inert missile casings, and even fighter jets sat parked under the harsh fluorescent lights.
"What I'm about to tell you is extremely sensitive," Ross said, his voice echoing slightly in the huge room. "To me personally, and to the military as an institution."
He began to pace, his boots tapping a sharp rhythm on the concrete floor. "You're familiar with America's weapons development programs, I assume."
"During World War II, they conducted experiments. Biotechnology enhancement research."
Blonsky nodded, standing at attention. "The super soldier program. They created Captain America."
Ross stopped his pacing and fixed Blonsky with an intense, unblinking stare. "Exactly. Though it wasn't quite that simple. That experiment produced only one successful subject. So I ordered them to conduct another, bolder experiment."
He gestured to a nearby tank. "While R&D focuses on building better weapons, we want to build better soldiers."
Ross continued, his tone low. "Banner's work was preliminary. Not ready for deployment. He thought he was researching radiation resistance. I never told him the true purpose."
"But he was arrogant. Confident in his abilities. He conducted unauthorized human trials. On himself. Either it went catastrophically wrong," Ross said, "or he achieved exactly what we wanted."
Ross's voice hardened, losing all flexibility. "His body belongs to the United States military."
Blonsky processed this, his expression tightening. "You're saying that transcendent... that thing... was created through experimentation?"
Ross met his eyes directly. "We developed a serum with extraordinary potential. Banner conducted unauthorized tests and transformed himself. You witnessed his strength. Combat power exceeding one fifty."
Blonsky nodded slowly. "The equipment clearly wasn't malfunctioning. But... why did he run? He's a military scientist."
"He's a scientist, not a soldier," Ross said with a trace of contempt. "Confronted with his transformation, he panicked. Made mistakes."
Ross studied Blonsky carefully, taking in the soldier's compact, powerful build. "How old are you? Forty-five?"
Blonsky wasn't sure why the general was asking, but answered honestly. "Thirty-nine, sir."
Ross allowed another small smile. "At your age, you've broken through eight combat power points. You're a rare talent. With your record, you could be a colonel by now."
"I prefer the front lines, sir," Blonsky said, his posture rigid. "Field experience is crucial. That's how I broke through eight points."
Ross considered him for a long, silent moment, the hum of the ventilation system the only sound. "I can make you stronger."
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