Ch.267 Coercive Tactics

Surrounded by enthusiastic resistance fighters in the stinking sewers, Su Ming accepted their warm welcome while deep in thought.

He wasn't going to share his goals with Nick and his team, but he had a pretty good idea of what SSR was after—Red Skull.

All their intel on Germany's super-soldier program had come from Dr. Erskine, so the U.S. military was fixated on Red Skull, acting like he was the sole leader of Hydra.

Red Skull himself seemed to enjoy clashing with the Strategic Science Reserve, much like in the movies, where he opened small factories all over Europe only to have them destroyed one by one.

If he had just hidden his factories near Berlin, even Hitler wouldn't have noticed. With over a hundred thousand soldiers guarding the area, there would have been far fewer problems.

In short, where there was Captain America, there was Red Skull—and vice versa.

But what was Red Skull doing in Paris at this time? Could he be trying to get involved with the Namor fragments?

Nick, carrying Steve, made his way over, finally managing to push through the enthusiastic resistance fighters. They were all singing the "La Marseillaise" repeatedly, and if there had been alcohol, the situation would have been completely out of control.

"Deathstroke, we want to hire you," Nick said after thinking for a moment. While the mission hadn't failed yet—Red Skull hadn't left Paris—Steve was seriously injured and incapable of continuing.

With the passage of time, mission failure was almost inevitable.

However, Deathstroke's appearance filled the void in their high-end combat capabilities. Captain America couldn't handle the sheer number of Hydra soldiers, but maybe Deathstroke could.

As long as SSR paid the right price and got Deathstroke to help kill Red Skull, it would be a win-win.

"Nope, not interested. I'm staying with my French friends to fight off the invaders," Su Ming rejected him immediately, which prompted another wave of cheers from the resistance fighters.

Nick gritted his teeth and tried to stay calm. He couldn't get angry, couldn't lose his cool—he had to stay patient. After all, a spy needed self-control.

"You're here in Paris for a job too, right? Maybe the Strategic Science Reserve can help you," Nick ventured, tightening his grip as Steve, who was heavy and slipping from his grasp, leaned further down his shoulder.

Su Ming raised an eyebrow. Was Nick trying to figure out his mission? Unfortunately for him, the level of Su Ming's mission was far beyond their comprehension.

They were still raiding Shadowfang Keep while he was raiding Molten Core.

And their main tank had already fallen. The best option for them would be to Hearthstone back home and call it a day.

"No need. You guys are of no help," Su Ming waved dismissively, thinking back to how he had originally intended to help them. But they hadn't appreciated his offer. Now, they would have to work for him in exchange for his aid. They would have to beg him, and he would make sure they understood that Deathstroke would be the one hiring them.

Switching to French, Su Ming addressed the resistance fighters around him. "Friends, come with me. These Americans are useless. We will take back Paris ourselves!"

Nick was infuriated. Did Deathstroke just change his nationality? Is he suddenly a Parisian now?

Worse still, the resistance fighters were actually buying into this?

It wasn't entirely their fault. Most resistance fighters had joined through personal connections—friends, neighbors, or family members. And many had already died in the line of duty, often to help these Americans. Those killed were either close relatives or friends from the same community. How could they still show any goodwill toward the Americans after that?

Deathstroke, on the other hand, had shown up, saved their lives, demonstrated his strength, and understood their cause. If this super-soldier was willing to fight alongside them, that would be a dream come true.

Thus, the group quickly followed Su Ming, singing the "La Marseillaise" in the dark as they left.

Peggy Carter watched the lights fade into the distance, then looked at Nick, whose face was dark with frustration. The Howling Commandos stood there with a pile of weapons, staring at each other.

"What do we do now?" she asked.

Nick didn't have an answer. How would he know what to do? He was just a low-level field agent with no authority. Agent 13, Peggy, was supposed to be the leader!

Nick turned toward her, his face blank.

Peggy blushed slightly as she realized that she was the one in charge. Steve's condition had clearly rattled her.

Taking a deep breath, she calmed herself down and thought things through. The situation was bad, but the immediate priority was tending to everyone's wounds, getting them food and rest, and especially finding a better environment for Steve to recover.

Afterward, they could decide whether to continue the mission or find a way to retreat.

But none of that would be possible without the resistance fighters' help.

Suddenly, a dreadful realization hit her—that's exactly why Deathstroke had taken the resistance with him. He saw that they had no choice but to follow the resistance wherever they went.

No matter where he took the resistance fighters, they would have no option but to follow him.

Deathstroke had said earlier that he only wanted to help, but when she doubted his intentions, he immediately switched to French, rallying the resistance and cutting off their escape.

It was as if he were saying, "You'll accept what I offer, whether you want it or not. Not only will you follow my plan, but you'll also have to admit it's great."

Deathstroke's control was terrifying. Could someone like this really be a mercenary?

If Nick was a control freak, then Deathstroke was a sadist at a whole other level. His intelligence was frightening, and Peggy feared there might be layers to his plan that she hadn't even realized yet.

As she stood in the dark, listening to the trickle of water around her, she realized they had no other choice. In their current condition, they would be surrounded by the Germans as soon as they stepped outside. They were out of ammo, without food or medicine. Following Deathstroke was their only option.

"Sigh," Peggy sighed heavily, looking down at Steve's face with a helpless expression. "We'll follow them. Follow the singing—that's our guide. We have no choice but to take this path."

Nick, too, began to understand. He was momentarily stunned, realizing that in just a few moments, Deathstroke had set up a plan, and they hadn't even realized they were being led by the nose.

He shook his head, sighing. If there ever came a time when this world stopped discriminating against people of color, and if he ever became a leader in SSR, he would make sure the military paid close attention to their relationship with Deathstroke. This man was simply too dangerous.

As far as Nick could see, this warrior had no weaknesses. Deathstroke wasn't swayed by money and acted purely on his own whims. They didn't even know his true identity.

Su Ming didn't care what they were thinking. Everything was going perfectly according to plan. As long as Peggy and Nick weren't complete fools, they would eventually submit to him.

Leading the resistance fighters, Su Ming returned to where the Doctor and the X-Men were waiting.

Passing through the hole they had dug, the resistance fighters didn't seem upset that he had damaged the walls of the catacombs. In fact, they praised the method, saying they used it all the time. Deathstroke clearly knew Paris well, almost like a natural Parisian.

Using the catacomb system and the Parisian sewers, the resistance could move unseen across the city, minimizing casualties and logistical challenges. That was how they had managed to hold out against the Germans for so long.

Since they complimented him, Su Ming graciously accepted it.

"Sigh, I'm quite humbled. I just did a little work. By the way, do you like poetry?"