How Well Done?

"Hail Hydra."

Agent Sitwell felt that the slogan he had shouted for half his life sounded especially grating today.

The mission Pierce had given him was glorious and great, and Pierce’s plan was correct. Given his current identity, if Captain America wanted information on the Insight Project, he would definitely come looking for him.

So he pinned the Hydra emblem somewhere conspicuous, put on an air of complacent triumph, and repeatedly made contact with his colleagues.

Still, Sitwell spent the entire morning guessing what methods they would use against him.

Would they point guns at him?

A long-range sniper rifle?

Should he pay special attention to whether there was a red dot on his chest?

Or would they impersonate a colleague and call him?

Black Widow should have that kind of technical capability too, right?

Or would they just rush up like highway robbers and abduct him?

Even Captain America would not do that in broad daylight, would he?

Just as, even if they captured Captain America, they could not possibly shoot him in the head in public.

That would directly cause enormous social problems.

Captain America should be able to imagine that treating him this way, when he still publicly held the identity of an international agent, would be completely inappropriate.

So, when Sitwell had spent the morning wandering around without spotting any red dots on himself or receiving any strange calls, he began to wonder if he had overacted a little.

Rumlow had already called him three times to confirm, yet he had acted as if nothing was wrong…

Had Captain America discovered this was a trap and chosen another target?

But Captain America ultimately did not disappoint Sitwell.

He was even on the verge of praising Pierce’s great foresight.

Only… it would have been better if they had abducted him more gently.

When Sitwell saw sunlight again, he was on the roof of a building.

He clutched his chest, his heart nearly leaping out of his mouth—

What had he just experienced?

He had been sitting outside a coffee shop, preparing to taste the coffee he had just ordered.

In broad daylight, in full view of everyone, he and his chair had been swallowed whole by something invisible…

That was right, swallowed whole!

Still shaken, Sitwell was absolutely certain that he had just been inside the mouth of some kind of beast!

Before he could even react, those sharp fangs had crushed the chair that entered with him to pieces!

And he had tried every method he could think of, even pulling out a portable high-temperature cutter, yet the unknown beast had not reacted in the slightest!

How was that possible?!

Or had it been an illusion?!

But could someone explain why he was covered in saliva?!

Steve looked at the familiar man Skoll had spat out. He had originally wanted to walk over and punch him, but he bared his teeth and stopped.

"What was that thing?! What are you trying to do?!"

Fortunately, Sitwell had not forgotten his role.

He looked flustered, but inwardly he was completely confident.

He had a tracking device on him. The special operations team monitoring his location would discover his sudden disappearance and trace him here immediately!

As long as he stalled long enough, Captain America would be no match for a fully armed special operations team!

Rumlow had emphasized it repeatedly: last time, the space in the elevator had been too small, and they had been unable to use heavy weapons, which was why Captain America had escaped!

"Sitwell… it seems that when I wiped out those pirates and rescued you last time, it was completely a joke."

Skoll remained invisible, while Sam was providing mobile support, so only Steve and Sitwell were here.

"Captain, what are you talking about? I…"

"Tell me about Zola’s algorithm!"

Steve hesitated for a moment, stepped forward, and kicked Sitwell to the ground. Then he rubbed his shoe against the floor.

"What did you do on the Lemurian Star?"

"Algorithm? I’ve never heard of it. The Lemurian Star? I… I threw up on it. I get seasick!"

He shakily climbed to his feet, wiped his glasses, and forced a smile—

Captain America’s kick was not something one could take lightly.

He already felt as though his stomach might be bleeding internally, and his mouth was full of the taste of blood.

"Captain Rogers, you’re a wanted fugitive of S.H.I.E.L.D…"

He watched Steve approach step by step while he retreated step by step, until he had reached the edge—

One more step back, and he would be in free fall.

"Whew…"

Sitwell suddenly calmed down.

"Aha… it’s really high up here. But you’re Captain America, one of God’s righteous men. Would you really abduct me in broad daylight over something so minor…

Then throw me off from here?"

He slowly revealed a confident smile, shaking his head calmly.

"That’s not your style, Captain Rogers."

"That’s right."

Steve had already walked up in front of him, close enough to push him off with one hand, but he looked at Skoll’s saliva all over the man with distaste.

"Not only is it not my style, it also makes me a little reluctant to lay a hand on you."

"But compared to being swallowed whole by a wolf, being pushed off a rooftop by one is not that unacceptable, right?"

Steve spread his hands, and Sitwell felt something invisible slam into him. He let out a miserable scream as he fell.

"Wow, that’s rough."

Skoll’s voice came from somewhere invisible.

"He should have held out a little longer. His reinforcements are here."

"Can you handle them?" Steve glanced behind him. Helicopters were already flying over.

"Of course. It’s daytime, almost noon."

Skoll’s voice drifted farther away.

"How well done?"

"…Well done!"

"No problem."

Amid the merciless bombardment of the Sunlight Cannon, Sam grabbed Sitwell by the collar, hauled him back up, and threw him onto the rooftop.

Sitwell’s screams stopped abruptly when he saw a golden giant wolf, fully three meters tall, firing beams of light from its mouth.

The sun in the sky seemed to shine even brighter. Sunlight beams that radiated heat even from here directly blasted the special operations team’s Attack Helicopters into fragments.

No, they should have been… molten metal slurry.

As for the massive explosion in the air and the few charred chunks that fell from it, Sitwell did not dare look.

He understood now. What the hell did it mean to spare no effort…

"Zola’s algorithm is a program used to select Insight targets…"

He surrendered decisively. He could reason and trade barbs with Captain America, but what could he say to a beast that had wiped out the entire special operations team with one blast from its mouth?!

He did not even have the mind to wonder where this thing had come from!

"What targets?"

"You, Tony Stark, Oaks Lin, Bruce Banner, a Cairo TV host, the Deputy Secretary of Defense, a high school graduate in Iowa City, Stephen Strange—everyone who could threaten Hydra!"

"Whether now or in the future!"