The change in security was to be expected.
How many times had Star Tower been brazenly breached? Forget the Peerless Assassin for a moment—let's talk about that spy. A spy who wasn't even on the Assassin's level had walked into the building without a hint of resistance, only to vanish into thin air inside. That was a stain the previous security team could never wash away.
Naturally, the homeowners' association fired them on the spot.
Then... in came the new squad. A team purportedly comprised entirely of retired special agents. On their first day at Star Tower, the residents felt an overwhelming sense of safety.
Motion sensors in the stairwells. Thermal imaging detectors. Every anti-spy and anti-theft gadget imaginable was deployed.
In the words of the new security chief: Star Tower's current defensive rating was essentially on par with CIA headquarters at Langley. Under their watch, even a fly trying to enter would need to show ID, be verified, and have the owner's permission before being escorted in.
Locke felt a strong urge to test that theory. But after a moment's thought, he gave up. There was no need. Sometimes, "self-deception" wasn't a derogatory term; more often than not, it was a virtue.
...
Manhattan Harbor.
After finishing dinner at Gwen's, Locke had his clone drive his car home. He changed clothes and made his way here.
After a short wait, he spotted Rosa from the Roman Brotherhood. She was perched on a shipping container, staring out at the harbor, her figure and face as sharp as ever.
Locke walked up and greeted her. "Hi!"
Rosa turned and nodded. "I thought you'd be laying low for a while."
Locke stood at the edge of the container, glancing at her. "Thanks."
It was an acknowledgment of her concern.
Rosa shook her head. "Callum might be late getting back."
Locke raised an eyebrow. "Oh right, Callum. Didn't he say he was going back to pick up his son and daughter? Why isn't he back yet?"
It had been nearly two months. How hard could it be to pick up two kids?
"It's complicated."
"Tell me. You can't just give me two sentences and leave it at that."
"..."
Rosa looked up at Locke and sighed. "Callum was a death row inmate when he awakened his ancestral memories, you know that, right?"
Locke shrugged. He knew the basics, but not the details.
Rosa continued, "Callum is a bit like that Locke Broughton kid, except he wasn't as lucky. He was framed, and he actually made it all the way to the electric chair."
Callum was born in the States but moved to Sokovia as an adult. He lived there, married a local girl, had kids, and then one day he went to work and found everyone in his office dead. The next thing he knew, he was extradited back to the States to stand trial. If it weren't for the masterminds behind the project watching the case, Callum's life would have ended with a flip of a switch.
"Pity," Locke remarked after hearing the short version. "But what does that have to do with picking up his kids?"
Rosa shrugged. "Adolescent rebellion. Callum's wife died of illness while he was in prison. The kids were raised by a neighbor. It's natural they'd harbor some resentment toward a father they thought was a murderer."
Locke nodded thoughtfully.
"So," Rosa added, "Callum wanted me to let you know he'll be a bit late. It doesn't matter much; we haven't found any solid leads on the next Piece of Eden anyway."
Locke nodded again. While he had been busy clashing with S.H.I.E.L.D., Rosa and the others hadn't been idle. Taking advantage of the massive news cycle, they had quietly purchased the old textile mill from the city. They just hadn't decided on a front business yet.
Rosa looked at Locke. "Do you have any suggestions, Peerless?"
The textile business was out of the question—too many eyes, and they didn't like the environment.
Locke thought for a moment. "How about a pharmaceutical manufacturing company?"
Rosa blinked, surprised.
Locke laughed. "I'm just spitballing. You guys decide. I'm heading out of town tomorrow."
"Why?"
"The wind's too cold."
"Ha."
Rosa bit her lip as if hearing a joke. "I thought you weren't afraid."
Locke smiled. "I'm not. It just so happens there's a mission out of state. I'll take this time to relax and wait for things in New York to cool down."
It was better for everyone. George was bordering on obsession lately; a break would give him time to mend his relationship with Helen, which effectively protected Locke's relationship with Gwen.
Besides, December was just a few days away. Setting aside the Maine chemistry competition with Gwen, Locke never worked in December back in Texas. You work all year; you have to rest at the end of it. Even if being an assassin is a "freelance" gig, at the end of the day, you're still a worker. If a worker doesn't look out for himself, who will?
The capitalists? Heh.
Locke waved a hand. "I'm off."
"Wait." Rosa called him back. She looked at him as he turned around. "Yesterday, those agencies only recovered the pilot's body from the water."
Locke's brow furrowed. "Meaning?"
Rosa said, "We don't know the one-eyed guy, but the man on trial with him..."
"Phil Coulson?"
"Yes." Rosa nodded earnestly. "Phil Coulson was the one who contacted us before. When they left the courthouse in separate groups, we were following that van. They never got on the plane you destroyed."
Locke laughed. "Impossible. I—"
"Did you see them board with your own eyes?"
"I..." Locke paused.
He hadn't. When he entered the airfield, the business jet was already taxiing with the door still closing. Logically, one would assume the targets were on board, fleeing in a hurry.
'Good grief. Did they not get on?'
Locke blinked and looked at Rosa. "You were there? Why didn't you warn me?"
Rosa shrugged. "You had blood in your eyes."
Who knew if stepping out would have earned her a missile to the face?
"Besides," Rosa shook her head, "we were on the other side of the airfield. We only heard the gunfire. We guessed it was you, but by the time we got there, you had vanished."
Locke nodded. "Am I really that scary?"
Rosa looked at Locke, who was still wearing sunglasses in the middle of the night, and didn't answer. Instead, she said, "We watched from a distance. Those two never walked out of the airport. But it's certain they weren't in the water. If they were, the authorities wouldn't have failed to recover the bodies."
Locke hummed. "Not in the water, not on the ground. Underground?"
"Highly likely," Rosa agreed. "But the airport is locked down. It'll be hard to get in and check until the cordons are lifted."
Locke couldn't help but let out a short laugh. He knew it. He had felt something was off when he watched the salvage news. Why hadn't New York S.H.I.E.L.D. agents swarmed the scene if Fury was dead? He had thought a fallen director was treated like a dog, but clearly, that wasn't the case.
Rosa looked at the laughing Locke with curiosity. "You aren't angry?"
Locke snapped back to the present. "Angry? Why?"
"The people you wanted to kill are still alive."
"Yes, I know." Locke nodded to her. "But is it that strange? A secret agency backed by the five world powers... if the Director were that easy to kill, how could he have held the job?"
Moreover, Locke had just remembered that Nick Fury had a demigod standing behind him.
Captain Marvel!
Fury had a pager that could summon an orbital strike—or a cosmic powerhouse—from tens of thousands of light-years away. If Fury were truly about to die, he would have pressed that button. Based on Captain Marvel's speed, if he were dead, she should have touched down by now.
Locke looked up at the silent night sky. It was perfectly still. No sign of a demigod descending.
"What do you plan to do?"
"What?"
Rosa stood up, dusting off her backside, and looked at Locke. "Do you need us to keep an eye out for his whereabouts?"
Locke smiled. "No one stays on my hit list and keeps breathing."
If Nick Fury was alive, it was an insult to the name of the "Peerless Assassin." Locke couldn't let his thoughts rest until the job was done. It was how he operated: finish one thing before moving to the next. He hated leaving work half-finished.
Nick Fury had to die! Even if Captain Marvel showed up, she couldn't save him!
Besides, what if she did show up? Locke didn't believe that middle-aged woman could find the Peerless Assassin.
However, after returning home, Locke sent an email to Hydra.
Direct and to the point.
[Is Nick Fury's body actually there or not?]
***
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