Maria's condition was slightly better, but not optimistic. She had abrasions on her face, but she was still conscious.
"Howard..." Maria's voice trembled, filled with pain and fear, "Are you alright?"
Howard tried to answer, but as soon as he opened his mouth, he coughed up a mouthful of blood.
He shook his head, signaling that he was fine, or at least still alive...
Then, he struggled to lift his hand, fumbling to unbuckle his seatbelt.
Today, Howard and his wife had left S.H.I.E.L.D. and were on their way home as usual. Everything was normal until twenty minutes ago.
No one knew that he was carrying five vials of the Super Soldier Serum developed during the war.
This was a top-secret mission for S.H.I.E.L.D. These serums were a legacy of the "Rebirth Project" during World War II and had been sealed in a secret S.H.I.E.L.D. warehouse.
Recently, because the warehouse needed to upgrade its security system, these serums needed to be temporarily transferred to another location. Howard, as one of the original participants in the project, was assigned to be in charge of this transfer.
It was supposed to be a confidential and safe operation. The route was carefully planned, the time was chosen at night, the vehicle was bulletproof, and there was even an alternative route to deal with contingencies.
But halfway there, they were attacked.
The attack was sudden and precise. A motorcycle rushed out from a side road and crashed directly into the side of the car.
The impact caused the vehicle to lose control. Howard fought to steer the wheel, but they still crashed into a tree by the side of the road.
The attacker was riding a motorcycle and dressed in black. He was clearly professionally trained; the angle and timing of the impact were calculated perfectly, disabling the target vehicle without causing immediate death to the occupants.
Now, the attacker was walking toward the two of them.
The motorcycle was left casually in the middle of the road, its headlight still on, casting a pool of flickering light.
The attacker's pace was unhurried, terrifyingly calm, as if he were taking a stroll rather than committing a crime.
Howard gathered his strength and reached his right hand into his suit's inner pocket.
His fingers fumbled and gripped the crystal. Without hesitation, Howard used his last bit of strength to crush it.
There was no sound when the crystal shattered, nor were there any shards flying about.
It was like a mass of solidified light that silently dissipated under pressure, turning into countless tiny specks of light that drifted from between Howard's fingers and vanished into the air.
Hopefully, it would be in time...
Howard leaned back against the seat, closed his eyes, and waited.
Every second felt as long as a century. He could hear the attacker's approaching footsteps, could hear Maria's suppressed sobbing, and could hear the violent beating of his own heart.
Moonlight leaked through the gaps in the clouds, illuminating the attacker.
It was a tall figure, with solid muscles and movements as coordinated as a cheetah.
He walked to the driver's side and stopped.
Howard opened his eyes and looked at the figure through the shattered windshield.
The attacker extended his left hand.
In the dim light, Howard could see clearly that it was a thick, metallic arm.
Not an exoskeleton, not armor, but an arm made entirely of metal with a precise joint system.
The silver-gray surface reflected the moonlight, and the fingers made faint mechanical sounds as they opened and closed.
The metal hand gripped the car door handle.
Then, with brute force, the attacker ripped the entire door off.
The sound of tearing metal was ear-piercing enough to set one's teeth on edge. The reinforced door was ripped open like a piece of paper; hinges snapped, and bolts flew off.
The car door was casually tossed aside, rolling a few times on the road with a clatter before finally coming to a stop in the grass.
The attacker leaned down, reached his metal arm into the car, and grabbed Howard by the collar.
Howard was yanked out of the driver's seat. The metal fingers were cold and hard, choking him until he could barely breathe.
He was lifted into mid-air, his feet off the ground, like a lamb waiting to be slaughtered.
By the light of the moon and the car's headlights, Howard finally saw the attacker's face clearly.
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