If Hydra could absorb a socialist successor from the ancient civilizations of the East, they would probably know about a magical almanac called the Yellow Calendar, in which there were daily taboos. For example, today, it was clearly written, "Smashing, looting, and burning, do not smuggle Winter Soldiers."
The writer was S.H.E.L.D..
In the Vault Clinic, the white coats took out a spare metal arm and put it on the Winter Soldier. As the most powerful Winter Soldier, Bucky's iron arm was like an exclusive weapon. In order to ensure his combat effectiveness at any time, such a spare arm was often stored in the arsenal. If it was broken, it would be repaired. If it was broken, a new one would be directly installed. Just like a gun, he kept reloading bullets and firing because he was just a killing machine, not a living person with flesh and blood.
The spare arm was naturally not as good as the fine original one, and it was even more painful when the nerves were connected. Therefore, when the Winter Soldier violently used his only mobile shoulder to knock over the tray full of instruments, everyone was just shocked and not surprised. It was not uncommon for the Winter Soldiers, who had been switching between a frozen and brainwashed state for a long time, to lose control of their consciousness and behavior. Because of this, Hydra did not use these top-level "weapons" for a long time. Because there were too many uncontrollable factors, the mental state of the weapons was very unstable, and they needed to be brainwashed again and again to strengthen control.
Hydra called it "antivirus."
All the beauty, doubts, familiar voices, and fragments of memories that stimulated him were washed away again and again. Bucky Barnes was killed, and the Winter Soldier was reborn.
Rum and his teammates skillfully separated Pirs from the Winter Soldier, but they did not pull out the guns on their backs. Instead, they made a gesture and fanned out to surround the bed with the others.
The Siberian base had been destroyed, and all the other Winter Soldiers were confirmed dead. The one in front of them was an important asset that could not be hurt unless it was absolutely necessary.
The strongest walking weapon, the living serum carrier, everything was fine, but it was not Bucky Barnes.
Soon, Rum paid the price for his wrong judgment.
Unlike the Hydra, who moved cautiously, the remaining Winter Soldiers had no scruples. He had been lurking in the dark to carry out missions all year round, so his aura was extremely restrained. Other than the moment when he had attracted everyone's attention, he seemed to have sunk back into the darkness, and the light in his eyes dimmed inch by inch.
Like a wolf waiting quietly for its prey.
Even if he was tied up, he was still waiting for an opportunity to jump up and end his opponent's life cleanly.
Rum Lowe approached cautiously, intending to cuff his hands to the side of the bed.
He had been waiting for this moment!
In the blink of an eye, Bucky forcibly broke the restraints on his body, snatched the handcuffs, and raised his hand. The sound of metal hitting flesh and a female voice sounded at the same time.
"Raise your hands!"
Gill led the temporary team of agents into the vault, pointing their guns at their former colleagues.
Crisscrossed Bones, who had lowered his body to avoid the attack but had lost the opportunity to react, slowly straightened his body with a gloomy expression. His right hand secretly reached behind his back.
A cold hand grabbed his wrist forcefully, making him unable to move.
It was Bucky.
"Agent Hill, you'd better explain to me what this means." Alexander Pirs quickly hid his panic and asked with his head slightly raised. He had been lurking in S.H.E.L.D. all year round, and he was able to hold a high position with ease. He was obviously prepared for the situation in front of him. He had a hundred ways to get out safely, as long as he could walk out of this door now.
"This should be what I should be asking you." Footsteps sounded, and Frey, wearing an eye patch, walked into the vault with his hands behind his back. "Should I call you an old friend, or should I call you Hydra?"
"You have to understand who you are accusing." Pierce looked around and realized that they had been completely surrounded. It was impossible for them to break out of the encirclement.
"Nick, think clearly."
"I have already thought clearly." Frey stared at him with his only eye. "Please."
Frey waved his hand, and several agents handcuffed them and escorted them away.
When they were about to reach the ground, Pirs suddenly turned to the side and said, "Nick, I was going to send a wreath for your funeral."
"Maybe you need it first."
As soon as Frey finished speaking, gunshots were heard.
Several fully armed agents suddenly turned on them, and everyone hurriedly dodged and returned fire. This secret bank vault was located underground in a neighborhood known for its chaos and disorder. It was already late at night, and there was no one on the dark street. The sudden burst of gunfire and fire made this place the most eye-catching place. Crossbones, who had gotten the key from his Hydra companion when he was handcuffed, quickly fought with Bucky. Hill used a broken car as cover and calmly aimed and fired. Frey, who had been keeping an eye on Pirs, knocked out the former director of S.H.E.L.D. and stuffed him behind a trash can before returning to join the battle.
However, the Special Quick Response Team was S.H.E.L.D.'s sharp blade, and their numbers and quality were far inferior to normal agents. Even if Bucky held Crossbones back, the situation was still gradually tipping in their favor.
The next second after Fury pressed the button to call for backup, an extremely arrogant rock music exploded like an explosion.
"Did you miss me?"
The golden-red armor that was a million times more arrogant than rock music instantly glided from the horizon and hovered in the air like a meteor. Iron Man took half a second to get into position, and all the homing bullets on his shoulder popped out. He aimed his hand cannon at everyone.
He was so handsome that it was tragic.
Fléty, who was controlling the street surveillance video that hadn't moved in ten thousand years, couldn't help but sigh.
She didn't say anything, but Jarvis could detect the data flow in the AI channel.
"Fléty, please upgrade your language system and self-antidote tonight. The use of 'tragic' is wrong."
Fléty humbly asked for advice.
"It should be 'earth-shattering'," Jarvis answered in a second.
Bro, you seem to need an upgrade too.
Fléty seriously thought for a microsecond and decided to remain silent. Her brother's creation was almost complete, and she wasn't confident that she could beat the 1.91m Jarvis with his eight-pack abs, so she simply continued to record silently.
The devastatingly handsome Iron Man popped open his helmet and casually greeted the mixed members of S.H.E.L.D. Hydra.
"Hi ~"
"Mr. Stark, can't sleep and came out for a walk in the middle of the night?" Frey swore with his remaining eye that if this bastard didn't tamper with S.H.E.L.D.'s system, he would livestream himself eating the portrait of Howard and Stark hanging in the conference room!
Were the people in the technical department all elementary school graduates?!
If Fléty and Jarvis knew what he was thinking, they would probably kindly reply, "No, your subordinates in the technical department are probably still drinking milk."
"Yeah, I was bored so I came out for a walk and saw you guys having a party here." Tony Stark never knew what "sorry" meant. He said very naturally, "How can a party be without Tony Stark?"
"Also, you guys seem to need me."
He smirked and opened his arms confidently. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw two figures standing in the alley. He decisively fired a palm cannon.
The wall, which wasn't very sturdy to begin with, was torn apart and solidly crushed onto the innocent and pitiful crossbones.
"Sorry, my hand slipped."
After that, he didn't even look at the people around crossbones who weren't affected at all. He just minded his own business and landed on the ground. Then, he automatically started talking to the most eye-catching female in the room.
Iron Man didn't need to do anything after that. He made an earth-shattering appearance and kindly didn't ask for an appearance fee from S.H.E.L.D., even though they probably couldn't afford it anyway. Then, he simply left as if he was just bored in the middle of the night and came out for a walk in his combat suit.
He returned to the Malibu House in a good mood. Fléty was waiting for him in the living room with supper. After all, the unique Mr. Stark liked to eat pizza in the studio, drink cocktails in the bathroom, and eat cookies in the gym. He just didn't like to have a peaceful meal at the dining table in the dining room.
Fléty, who successfully made people stay with apple pie, pretended to take out his tablet and began to report. It was worth mentioning that this was Jarvis's suggestion. After all, Fléty was essentially an AI, and he was more used to the behavior of an AI. Most of the time, he could report the running data in his brain with his eyes open. It was fine at home, but it was a bit unnatural in front of outsiders. Just like how Jarvis could match the sound of footsteps when he was projecting, both of them were learning how to be more like a human.
"The new gold-titanium alloy has been sent to your private warehouse. Brother's physical body is almost complete. There's still forty-five percent left, enough for you to start the steel arm manufacturing plan."
Tony, who was happily eating, almost choked himself to death. He swallowed the whole piece of fruit with difficulty and shouted, "Who said I'm going to make an arm? That's the spare shell of my Mark 8!"
Fléty considerately handed him a tissue, and even more considerately, he didn't remind his boss that in the real-time update worksheet he authorized Jarvis to share with her, "Make a new steel arm" had been marked red for several days.
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