If any other organization had discovered the location of Hydra's secret research base, Baron Strucker would have been on high alert. But the situation was different this time — the Advanced Idea Mechanics, or AIM, had once been part of Hydra's own scientific division. Both sides were familiar with each other's inner workings, and as two long-standing villain organizations, they already had an unspoken agreement: neither would expose the other's secrets. In that sense, Killian's appearance here made perfect sense.
"Long time no see, Baron Strucker. I believe the last time we met was shortly after I took over as head of AIM, wasn't it?" Killian greeted him with a polite smile. The two men had crossed paths before — though it had been years ago.
Strucker replied coolly, "Killian, spare me the pleasantries. You wouldn't come all the way here just to exchange greetings. I heard your New York lab was completely wiped out by the Avengers. What's this — you've come to ask for help?"
Killian chuckled, undisturbed. "AIM has indeed taken a serious hit lately. But let's not pretend you've been doing much better. I hear your agents within S.H.I.E.L.D. were hunted down to the last man by the Avengers. Seems to me Hydra's suffered even greater losses."
Strucker's eyes narrowed, but he said nothing. Killian's words weren't wrong — both Hydra and AIM were on the brink of collapse, cornered by the ever-growing might of the heroes. They were, in a sense, two desperate survivors clinging to their final scraps of power.
And that was precisely why Marcus saw an opportunity — one he could exploit.
"So," Strucker said at last, his tone laced with suspicion, "do you have a proposal, then?"
Killian's smirk deepened. He could tell the Baron had taken the bait. The man's irritation only confirmed his suspicion — Killian must have brought something that could change their current predicament.
"I do have a suggestion," Killian said lightly. "But before we discuss business, could you do me a small favor? This conversation... doesn't need an audience."
He didn't need to finish. Strucker understood immediately. The Baron gestured subtly toward his men.
A gunshot echoed through the room. The black-market courier who had delivered the package collapsed instantly, a neat hole in his forehead. His body was dragged away, and soon the chamber was silent, leaving only Strucker and Killian's holographic projection.
"Speak," Strucker said coldly. "If your proposal doesn't satisfy me, you'll end up like him."
Killian, unfazed by the threat, smiled calmly and pointed toward the items on the table — a sleek blue helmet and a vial of crimson liquid.
"I know your style, Baron. You'll want to hear my offer first. This vial contains blood taken from one of the zombies currently causing chaos in America. The helmet — a prototype that allows limited control over their movements. I'm sure you can appreciate the value of these two items."
The moment Strucker heard the word zombie, his expression changed dramatically. His gaze sharpened, his voice lowering to an icy growl.
"The zombie virus… AIM created it, didn't you? Don't tell me it's a mutation of your Extremis formula. You realize what you've unleashed? Half the world's nuclear arsenal is aimed at New York because of that disaster. No wonder the Avengers came after you."
It was a reasonable assumption. If Killian possessed a device that could control the undead, it stood to reason that he'd had a hand in creating them. And the destructive power of the virus — enough to draw global nuclear attention — needed no further explanation.
Killian raised his hands lightly in mock surrender. "An accident, I assure you," he said smoothly, neither confirming nor denying the accusation. Then, his tone shifted. "Our main focus remains on the Extremis program. However, our research into the zombie strain has also yielded some… interesting results. We're considering offering those results for trade."
Strucker's eyes narrowed further. "Research results? You mean a way to control the undead. So, in other words, you haven't developed a vaccine."
He had caught the crucial omission instantly. If AIM had a vaccine, Killian would have brought it as the centerpiece of his negotiation.
Killian smiled disarmingly. "We're scientists, Baron, not a medical company. Vaccines are someone else's problem. So, let me ask you directly — are you interested in this trade or not?"
It was a dangerous offer. Without a vaccine, the zombie virus was a ticking time bomb that could destroy anyone who dared study it. Under normal circumstances, Strucker would never touch something that volatile.
But Hydra was wounded, cornered, and running out of options.
"What do you want in return?" he asked cautiously.
"Only," Killian said, his tone turning sly, "a partnership."
When the transmission finally ended, Marcus leaned back in satisfaction. Killian had done exactly as planned — and Hydra had taken the bait.
Once the zombie virus reached Hydra's hands, they would inevitably expand its reach. And with Hydra's vast underground network — a global web stretching back to the Nazi era — the virus would soon find new vectors of transmission across the world. No other organization on Earth could offer such reach.
As for the so-called "zombie control helmet" Hydra had just acquired, Marcus couldn't help but laugh. To him, it was nothing but a toy — a harmless distraction. If even Tony Stark couldn't create something capable of undermining his control over the undead, Hydra's mortal scientists certainly stood no chance.
Just then, another message came through. Tony's voice crackled over the communicator.
"Hey, Marcus — looks like Fury's finally making his move. He wants you to report to the Avengers' Helicarrier for a 'meeting.'"
Marcus's lips curved into a knowing smile. As expected.
A meeting with the Director of S.H.I.E.L.D. — one that he had no intention of walking away from quietly.
"A banquet with no return," Marcus murmured.
He turned to Tony. "You stay here. I'll go alone."
Tony blinked. "What am I supposed to tell Fury, then? That I passed out drunk?"
Marcus chuckled as he got into Tony's luxury car. "No need. Captain Rogers will give him the perfect excuse."
Before Tony could reply, Marcus hit the accelerator and sped off.
Considering the tense conversation last night about Tony's parents' deaths, Captain America was no doubt confronting Fury at this very moment. It was the perfect smokescreen — Tony's temporary disappearance would raise no suspicions.
And meanwhile, Marcus needed Tony working day and night in his underground lab, crafting new weapons. The bunker beneath Stark's mansion was even shielded against nuclear blasts — no one could touch him there.
In times like these, those who offered aid in crisis were far more valuable than those who joined in peace.
And soon, with Tony "gone," the Avengers would find themselves desperate — desperate enough to welcome Marcus with open arms.
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T/N:
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