Capturing a Soviet Agent

In the internal corridors of the battleship, Fury, dressed in a lieutenant’s formal uniform, hurried at a brisk jog toward Kyle’s office.

The female military doctor suspected of being a foreign agent had been in the office for some time. He wanted to see how the matter was being handled.

Having just arrived outside the closed iron door of the office, Fury faintly heard a conversation between Kyle and the young military doctor inside.

"Are you coming over or not?"

"I’m not coming over."

"Then I’m coming over."

"Don’t come over!"

The brief, pointless exchange ended, followed immediately by the sounds of a fierce fight from inside the office.

Just as Fury leaned closer to knock, something suddenly slammed into the other side of the iron door with a bang, leaving a slight dent in the refined iron door.

"Kyle, are you all right?" Fury decisively gave up on opening the door, wiped away a cold sweat, and shouted.

Kyle’s calm, steady voice soon came from inside. "I’m fine. Just guard the office entrance and don’t let any other soldiers come in."

"OK." Fury nodded in reply, showing not the slightest concern that Kyle might be in danger.

There was simply no need for that. The one who should be worried was the person fighting Kyle.

And indeed, that was the case.

Inside the battleship office, wood chips and torn paper littered the floor, leaving behind traces of the fierce battle that had ravaged the room.

Other than the Venom Suit, Kyle wore no other equipment. He stood tall and straight in the center of the office, coldly watching Santana, who was half sitting and half lying against the iron door.

Santana was completely different from before. Her somewhat youthful face was filled with indifference, her beautiful eyes gleamed with sharp frost, and her military doctor’s white dress hung over her petite body like beggar’s rags, stained with sweat and dust in a miserable state.

It was plainly a one-sided crushing defeat!

"What’s this? Is this all a top Soviet agent can do? I haven’t even used my full strength, and you’re already about to collapse?" Kyle sneered coldly.

Santana gritted her teeth, enduring the pain from her injuries as she struggled to push herself up against the iron door.

"Not bad." Kyle revealed a devilish smile. He had used eighty percent of his strength just now, landing several consecutive punches and kicks on her.

An ordinary person would have been beaten to death long ago. Yet Santana still barely retained the ability to fight. A Super Agent’s immune system and resistance to blows were clearly no empty boast.

"I’ll let you make the first move." Kyle spread his hands.

Santana did not hesitate. She knew she could not escape on someone else’s military turf, so she could only risk her life in one desperate attempt!

She lowered her body slightly and charged forward. Once she came within two meters of Kyle, she flipped her right palm and thrust forward a jagged piece of wooden board she had kept hidden. Its broken, pointed edge whistled through the air as it shot toward Kyle’s eye.

As if he had known all along, Kyle swiftly stretched out his left hand. Moving after her yet arriving first, he caught the wrist of the hand holding the sharpened wood. As his five fingers tightened, the bones in the young woman’s wrist creaked as though they were about to break.

"Ah, let go of me!" Santana cried out in pain, quickly kicking her left lower leg toward Kyle’s groin.

The next instant, her left ankle was likewise intercepted midway by Kyle’s other hand and firmly locked in his palm.

This was a complete counter to every move! With the immense gap in combat skill and physical ability, Santana was nothing more than a kitten baring its fangs before Kyle, a cheetah.

Captain America Steve had been utterly crushed by Kyle in pure close-quarters combat. Santana’s fighting ability was not even half of Steve’s.

If Steve was Kyle’s little brother, then Santana was his little sister. She did not have even the slightest chance of winning!

"Boring." Kyle looked coldly at Santana, whose body was immobilized at close range in his grasp, and shook his head in slight disappointment.

Gripping her with both hands, he swung her petite body up, bent and raised his left leg, then drove his knee heavily into the girl’s soft abdomen.

That was a full-force knee strike!

Santana, who had still wanted to resist, rolled her eyes back and completely lost her ability to fight, slumping down. Kyle released both hands and let her convulse and curl up on the floor.

The brief battle came to a swift end.

"Fury, you can come in now." Kyle patted the dust from his hands and called out.

Fury, acting as the guard, quickly opened the iron door and entered. When he saw the office in complete disarray and Santana curled up on the ground, covered in injuries, he was greatly startled.

"The Soviet Union really can’t stay quiet. They sent an agent to secretly take my blood," Kyle said expressionlessly.

"How should we deal with her? Lock her up, or hand her over to the higher-ups in the rear?" Fury asked.

"Keep this matter confidential for now. We’ll talk after this battle is over. Falling out with the Soviet Union now would do our army no good."

After saying that, Kyle picked up his general’s coat and put it back on. He glanced at Santana on the floor and said, "Send her to a single room on the battleship and lock her up. Have a female military doctor treat her injuries, and change her into a military Combat Suit while you’re at it. I have something to ask her later."

"Later?" Fury stared in surprise at Santana, who was still twitching on the floor. Wouldn’t she need at least several days to recover?

Kyle shrugged. "I didn’t hit her fatally. With her physical condition, she’ll probably wake up in half an hour."

Fury shook his head and gave a serious post-mission assessment. "The target was you. Anyone who came would be in for a miserable time… just delivering themselves to their deaths."

"This score hasn’t been settled yet. When I get the chance later, I’ll have to wipe out that Red Room organization." Kyle said coldly.

They had set their experimental sights on him. Well then, sorry, but he was adding a mark to his little book of death first!

One hour later.

Santana gradually woke up in an isolated single room. The moment she regained consciousness, the injuries from the beating sent waves of soreness through her body.

She calmly looked around and discovered that she was tied to a wooden chair, with ropes tightly wrapped around her hands and feet. Her tattered white dress had also been changed into a small-sized American green Combat Suit.

The sturdy ropes on her body were indeed restraints to ordinary people, but to Santana, they were merely a little trick for holding the body in place—she could easily break free with her flexibility.

Yet apart from the ropes, Santana could also feel a cold metal ring tightly clasped around her neck.

"I advise you not to struggle pointlessly. The thing around your neck is an electric shock collar I had Howard manufacture and stockpile earlier. It can be activated if you try to remove it or by pressing the remote-control button. At maximum power, the shock is enough to make a cow lose control of its bladder and bowels."

A calm, indifferent voice sounded from the doorway as Kyle slowly entered the holding room while speaking.

The electric shock collar had originally been prepared for dealing with the Winter Soldier in the future. He had not expected to use it here first…

Success. One Soviet agent captured.