Chapter 38: Negotiations with "Sincerity"

Nick Fury mulled over the situation for a moment before speaking in a low tone:

"Whether Carl is with Hydra or not doesn't make much of a difference to us. Agent Sharon, you can investigate the connection between Umbrella Corporation and Hydra, but even if you find something, you must not act recklessly. Do you understand?"

The implication was clear—investigation was fine, but they couldn't afford to alert their enemy prematurely.

Sharon Carter understood his meaning perfectly. "Understood. If I find anything, I'll report to you immediately."

Nick Fury waved her off, signaling she could leave if there was nothing else.

Sharon nodded slightly, her movements betraying a hint of urgency. She turned swiftly and left the meeting room. She couldn't wait to dig up dirt on Carl and avenge the humiliation of being detained for three months.

Once the meeting room was empty, Nick Fury frowned deeply, his brows forming a furrowed knot as he muttered to himself in the silence:

"If the Umbrella Corporation really was propped up by Hydra, given Hydra's brazen nature and their possession of nuclear weapons, then this could mean..."

---

The Next Day

8:30 AM Eastern Time

Light snow fell over New York City, and the temperature plummeted to -13°C (8.6°F). Flurries danced in the air, blanketing the bustling streets of the metropolis. The entire city seemed alive as countless pedestrians, bundled in thick down jackets, hurried off to work.

In Manhattan's affluent district, at the mansion on Brown Street No. 7, several servants were busy shoveling snow from the gates of the estate.

Ever since Carl had moved into this area, unmarked vehicles had often lingered nearby for hours on end.

At this moment, across the street from the estate's front gates, five Chevrolet Suburban SUVs were parked along the roadside. Each vehicle had tinted, one-way windows, making it impossible to see inside.

Just then, another Chevrolet slowly drove onto Brown Street. Its tires crunched over the snowy ground, leaving two conspicuous tracks behind. The car pulled up beside the five parked Suburbans.

The car door opened, and a middle-aged man in a dark gray jacket and suit trousers stepped out.

As the biting wind howled, Phil Coulson shivered and hunched his shoulders against the cold. Quickening his pace, he walked over to one of the Suburbans.

The window of the vehicle rolled down, revealing the suspicious face of Clint Barton, aka Hawkeye.

"What are you doing here?" Clint asked.

"The Director sent me to negotiate with that terrorist. He hasn't left the estate in the past two days, has he?"

"The front and back doors of the estate are being watched. Drones are monitoring the air 24/7, and underground movements are being tracked by spatial detection devices.

Unless he can fly—wait, scratch that, he can fly. Let's say unless he can turn invisible... well, you get my point, right?"

Coulson nodded and rubbed his frozen hands together to warm them. His expression turned grim as he said,

"Clint, can you promise me something?"

Clint looked at him, puzzled.

Taking on a solemn expression, Coulson said, "If—just if—I don't make it out alive, please give my will to Audrey. Tell her—"

Hawkeye cut him off mid-sentence.

"Save that for yourself. If you don't make it out, I'll barge in there and kill that son of a bitch Carl to avenge you!"

Coulson felt both touched and regretful upon hearing Clint's promise. The unpredictable outcome of this negotiation loomed large in his mind. The thought of never being able to confess his feelings to Audrey was a regret he couldn't shake.

After all, his main task today was to threaten Carl. And as a regular human being, he had to intimidate a superpowered individual? Just thinking about it made him question his chances of leaving alive.

"Ugh..." Coulson sighed, a cloud of white breath puffing out into the frosty air.

His thoughts muddled, he forgot to bid Clint farewell and simply let his body guide him, one resolute step at a time, toward the estate gates.

Hawkeye watched his friend's lonely silhouette disappear into the distance, his own face turning grim.

---

Ten Minutes Later – The Mansion's Second Floor

In a luxurious bedroom, at the kind of hour most would consider perfect for sleeping in, Carl was rudely awakened by a servant.

"Those S.H.I.E.L.D. pests just had to disturb my beauty sleep so early in the morning. Damn them to hell!" Carl grumbled as he rolled out of bed.

On the plush bed behind him, Wanda stirred slightly at the sound of his movements. Groggily opening her eyes, she saw Carl getting up. Stretching out her fair, flawless hand, she pulled the quilt over her face, clearly uninterested in what Carl was up to.

Wanda, having spent the night as a "knight," was utterly exhausted and only wanted to continue her well-deserved rest.

Wearing a pink bunny-print couple's pajama set, Carl left the bedroom. He didn't even bother to change into formal attire; after all, it wasn't like he was meeting anyone important.

Seething with irritation, Carl headed for the elevator, determined to find out which fool had the audacity to disturb his morning slumber.

---

First-Floor Lounge

Carl strode into the lounge and immediately spotted Coulson, whose ever-present polite smile only stoked Carl's fury.

His mood darkened instantly. His morning grumpiness was in full swing.

"S.H.I.E.L.D. sent you here so early in the morning to kill me with sleep deprivation, huh? If you don't give me a good reason, I swear you won't walk out of this mansion alive!"

Coulson quickly stowed his smile and produced a check before Carl could lose his temper completely.

"Mr. Carl, this is one billion dollars. I've come in good faith to discuss a partnership on behalf of S.H.I.E.L.D."

Carl took the check, noting it was issued by JPMorgan Chase. The string of zeroes on it surprised him.

He had demanded one billion dollars as an outrageous fee, never expecting S.H.I.E.L.D. to actually pay up.

Nick Fury didn't seem like the type to take a loss. Clearly, S.H.I.E.L.D. was desperate this time.

For the sake of this billion-dollar payday, Carl decided to hear them out. His expression softened, and he even managed a seemingly "friendly" smile as he patted Coulson on the shoulder.

"Since you've come with such... sincerity, go ahead. What kind of partnership are you proposing?"

Coulson, suppressing his urge to punch this hypocritical bastard, felt a deep sense of disgust. To him, this billion-dollar payment was an insult to the ideals of Captain America, his idol.

Dropping any pretense of courtesy, Coulson's expression turned icy as he laid out Nick Fury's ultimatum.

"Mr. Carl, what I'm about to say won't be pleasant, but it concerns the survival of Umbrella Corporation.

Starting today, you will submit to S.H.I.E.L.D.'s authority. This includes, but is not limited to, restrictions on your personal freedom.

If you refuse, S.H.I.E.L.D. will take actions you won't like, such as suppressing Umbrella's arms trade.

Believe me, S.H.I.E.L.D. has the power to bring down an international arms corporation."

Coulson's message was blunt: S.H.I.E.L.D. had leverage over Carl. The choice was his to make.

***

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