Chapter 63: The Mandarin Conspiracy

The emergency conference room erupted in applause as President Matthew Ellis declared the mission a success. General Chris straightened his uniform with a smug grin, ready to bask in the attention and deliver a victory speech. He was clearly the center of everyone's admiration.

"As I've always said," General Chris began, his voice booming with pride, "even without superheroes or fancy powers, we can defeat these so-called terrorists."

He glanced at Colonel Rhodes, who was frowning deeply, and continued, "Colonel, maybe now you'll believe it."

Chris lifted his chin, arrogance dripping from his tone. "Luck?" he scoffed. "Rhodes, you should be in church, praying to God every day. Believing in Him seems far more useful than relying on firepower."

Laughter rippled through the room, and many attendees eyed Rhodes, as if he had committed some grave misjudgment.

Colonel Rhodes seethed with frustration. Mission successful? Mandarin caught? Just like that? It didn't sit right with him.

General Chris, pleased with his own brilliance, turned to the assembled congressmen. "Burning Man didn't even dare step into the broadcasting building because he was afraid of us."

A chorus of agreement followed. "Exactly!" "What luck? Nonsense!" "It turns out we don't need superheroes after all!"

President Ellis stood up, his face glowing with satisfaction. He looked around the room, pleased with the outcome. Perhaps he had been wrong to put so much faith in Jiang Chen. Ellis thought to himself that no matter how powerful Jiang Chen might be, he was still a citizen of country M, bound by orders and authority.

The room fell into respectful silence as Ellis cleared his throat, preparing to speak. "This plan was flawless—"

Suddenly, the doors burst open, and a man in a security uniform rushed in, panic etched across his face. General Chris immediately shot him a sharp look.

"What do you think you're doing?" Chris snapped. "This is a restricted area! You don't just barge in here!"

The man, breathless and visibly shaken, stammered, "Sir, the Broadcasting Building... it's been bombed!"

The room froze. The air grew thick with shock, disbelief settling over the gathered officials.

General Chris's smug expression vanished. He glared at the security officer, his voice tight with disbelief. "What? That's impossible. The building was secure! How could it be bombed?"

"I—I don't know all the details," the man said, his voice trembling. "But we've just received surveillance footage. The building was hit hard. It's been reduced to rubble."

Colonel Rhodes, snapping out of his stupor, leaned forward urgently. "What about the people inside? Are there survivors?"

The security guard shook his head grimly. "We're not sure, but from the looks of it... very few could've made it out alive. We know Captain Hawkeye, Captain Hill, and about seven or eight others managed to escape, but they're badly injured. Emergency services are en route."

The conference room exploded into chaos. Confusion, panic, and fear spread like wildfire.

"How could this happen?" General Chris muttered, his face pale. He grabbed the officer by the shoulders, shaking him. "Are you sure? Are you absolutely certain?"

The guard nodded, then hurried to turn on the display screen at the front of the room. The footage showed what remained of the Broadcasting Building—ruins and scorched earth, smoke billowing into the sky. The entire area had been obliterated.

President Ellis, who had been composed just moments earlier, now looked as though the ground had been pulled from under him. He sank back into his chair. "How...? Didn't we have Mandarin in custody? What caused the explosion?"

The room buzzed with frantic discussions. "Over two hundred agents deployed, and only a few survivors?" "What's going on?!" "Wasn't the Mandarin caught?"

Ellis struggled to maintain control of the room. "Is the Mandarin dead? Has anyone confirmed what happened?" he demanded, his voice strained.

The security officer replied, "We're still investigating, sir. But it appears the explosion was caused by—" He hesitated. "By an Extremis-enhanced individual."

The room erupted into new whispers of alarm. "Extremis? But Killian's dead!" "Is this a new threat? How is this possible?"

Colonel Rhodes, furious and no longer concerned with protocol, stormed over to General Chris. He grabbed the general by the collar and yelled, "Do you even understand what you've done? How many people died because of your arrogance?"

The conference center was spiraling into pandemonium. Congressmen turned on General Chris, piling on blame to deflect responsibility from themselves.

"Yes, it's his fault!" "I warned against this reckless approach!" "This whole plan was flawed!"

President Ellis, his authority reasserting itself, raised his hand. "Colonel Rhodes, stand down."

Though Ellis's voice was calm, it held a commanding edge that silenced the room. He needed to regain control. Everyone stopped speaking, their eyes shifting to Ellis.

General Chris, visibly shaken but still defensive, pushed Rhodes off and straightened his jacket. "This wasn't my fault. It was sabotage. Someone else did this, but my plan was sound. The Mandarin is dead."

Ellis stared at him coldly. "Whether he's dead or not, this situation is far from resolved."

At that moment, the security officer spoke up once more. "Sir... we've just received confirmation. The Mandarin in the Broadcasting Building—he was a decoy. A fake."

Ellis shot to his feet, his face drained of color. "What did you say?!"