RNP Page 24
Page 24
Late at night, in the master bedroom of Hawke's penthouse.
Outside the huge floor-to-ceiling windows is a dazzling city night view, like a scattered galaxy.
The main light in the room was off; only the floor lamp in the corner emitted a hazy, ambiguous glow.
The air was still filled with the scent of expensive champagne and sensuality.
The large, soft bed, which one could easily sink into, was now a complete mess.
43. Foreign Player: Saive [Requesting Flowers]
The expensive silk sheets were crumpled beyond recognition, and Emily's business suit skirt was carelessly tossed on the expensive Persian carpet, next to her torn stockings.
Emily lay on Hawke's sweaty chest, her long golden hair spread out like seaweed, with a few strands clinging to her cheeks and neck, which were flushed with a charming blush.
She was breathing slightly, her body still trembling slightly from the intense pleasure, her eyes glazed over with satisfaction.
The moonlight outlined the graceful curves of her smooth back, extending all the way to her alluring waist dimples.
A moment later, Emily had fallen into a deep sleep in his arms, breathing evenly.
Hawke carefully withdrew his arm and tucked the blanket around her.
He then picked up a uniquely designed, unmarked encrypted satellite phone from the bedside table, ran his fingers over the cold metal casing, and dialed a number.
After the connection was established, there was a few seconds of silence before a languid, magnetic female voice, tinged with a hint of cynicism, rang out, accompanied by the crisp sound of ice cubes clinking against a crystal glass in the background.
"Well, well...who is disturbing a lady's private time so late at night, Your Majesty?"
The owner of the voice is Cipher, the top hacker and intelligence queen who manipulates everything in the world of Fast and Furious.
Her tone carried a familiar teasing tone, as if you could see through the radio waves to the other person.
Hawke's lips curled into a slight smile; Cipher was one of the very few people who knew of his royal identity.
Cipher's intelligence network is quite sophisticated and covers the globe.
“Sefer. Disturbing a lady? As far as I remember, you preferred the chaos of midnight screenings.” His voice carried a familiar warmth, as if they were old friends.
“Heh,” Cipher chuckled, a hint of sharpness in her languidness. “Chaos is my stage. As for you, little Hawk, I haven’t heard from you in so long. I thought you’d finally gotten tired of being a weirdo in a bodysuit.” She deliberately emphasized the word “little,” bringing up the past again.
Hawke leaned against the cold floor-to-ceiling window.
“Schools couldn’t teach me how to blow the enemy to the sky, Cipher. Time, however, has taught me quite a few things.” His voice carried a hint of maturity and strength. “For example, how to make a woman who once thought I was ‘too young and boring’ reassess her taste.”
There was a moment of silence on the other end of the phone, and the sound of ice cubes clinking stopped.
Hawke could almost picture Seifer squinting slightly.
"Oh? The Bates family who were blown up?" Cipher's voice returned to its lazy tone, but if you listened carefully, there was a hint of inquiry and subtle interest in it.
Hawke pursed his lips and said with a smile, "Could I interpret this as, 'Cypher, your intelligence capabilities have weakened, or perhaps you're just not paying as much attention to me?'"
Cipher gave a soft snort: "It sounds like in the past three years, little Hawk has not only grown taller, but also become much bolder? Tell me, what skills have you learned?"
Hawke chuckled softly, not directly answering her probing question.
"Whether you're capable enough depends on whether you can handle my 'assignment.' But we can catch up later, Cipher. I need your professional services now."
"Finally getting down to business?" Cipher's tone shifted instantly, all languor gone, replaced by the cold, efficient tone befitting a top-tier intelligence broker. "What's the price for this 'assignment'?"
“TCRI,” Hawke uttered the name, “I want everything about it. Every registered, hidden, and covert factory, laboratory, and research facility across the United States, with precise coordinates, responsible persons, project codes, and security level lists. The more detailed the better, and the faster the better.”
The sound of Seifer rapidly typing on his keyboard came from the other end of the phone, like cold raindrops.
“TCRI… Interesting. Their firewall is like an onion, layer upon layer, with thorns.” She seemed to be quickly assessing the difficulty. “Depth digging across the entire United States… This isn’t a free afternoon tea, little Hawke.”
“I never drink free afternoon tea,” Hawke’s voice was firm. “Name your price.”
Cipher seemed to be doing some calculations, and after a brief pause, he announced a number: "Five hundred thousand dollars. Within two hours."
"Deal." Hawke didn't hesitate at all. He picked up the tablet with his other hand and started transferring money on the screen.
“That’s good.” Cipher seemed pleased with his decisiveness. “But I must warn you, kid, messing with someone like TCRI can easily get you into trouble.”
“I’m used to the smell of blood,” Hawke said calmly, his tablet screen displaying that fingerprint verification had been successful. “The money is gone.”
Almost immediately, a soft notification tone came from Cipher's end. "Received. Efficiency has indeed... improved." She chuckled meaningfully. "Then, within two hours, the 'list' you requested will be sent to the secure cloud you designated. I could also 'deliver' it to you personally... if you're still in New York?" The last sentence carried that lazy, suggestive tone once again.
“The list is good, but I’ll provide ‘personal’ service. I’ll check the quality of your work first.” Hawke’s voice carried a hint of amusement, but more so an unquestionable conclusion. “Keep the line open, Cipher.”
“Looking forward to your feedback, Hawke…” Seifer’s voice faded into the hum of the encrypted line.
Hawke put down the satellite phone, the cold screen reflecting his deep eyes.
Outside the window, the city lights still shone brightly, but a silent war against the behemoth TCRI had already begun after he made the call, quietly initiated by the queen hidden in the shadows of the internet.
Emily rolled over at some point, mumbling sleepily, "...Whose call was that? In the middle of the night..."
“An old acquaintance.” Hawke walked back to the bedside, lay down, and naturally put his large hand around her. “A very efficient expert, my outside help.”
His gaze fell on the dark ceiling, awaiting the list worth half a million dollars.
Cipher's abilities are beyond question; two hours is enough for her to uncover a corner of TCRI.
He thought for a moment, glanced at the time, hesitated for a second, and then shamelessly sent a message to Natasha.
44. Cosmic Cube [Seeking Flowers]
[Image: Cipher from "The Fast and the Furious"]
new York
Fury originally planned not to come to this city for a year, not only because it contained places that saddened him, but also because of that despicable Ryan kid who had caused him so much pain.
But there was nothing he could do; it was a job! Fury consoled himself with this thought.
S.H.I.E.L.D. Mobile Command Center
On the large screen, multiple monitoring feeds transmitted in real time the post-war ruins of the first phase of Operation Iron Curtain—twisted metal, collapsed concrete, extinguished electrical sparks, and some unidentified fragments scattered around the edge of the core explosion point, flickering with an eerie light.
"Sir!" A technical analysis supervisor in protective gear called out urgently to Fury through encrypted communication, his voice filled with disbelief and excitement.
Behind his goggles, his eyes were fixed on a peculiar composite of metal and biomaterial, about the size of his palm, inside the isolation box in his hand. It was emitting a faint, unstable purple fluorescence.
"During the cleanup of the area surrounding the main damaged zone, we discovered a batch of... unusual residue!"
Fury's image appeared in the corner of the technical lead's helmet-mounted display: "Anomaly? Explain."
"This is not a technology or product currently known!" the technical director exclaimed rapidly. "The material cannot be immediately categorized; it combines previously unseen biopolymers and energy-conducting alloys. Preliminary scans show its internal structure... is it alive? Or rather, possesses highly adaptable biological activity! More importantly, we discovered the base of a destroyed device near some of the fragments, and the residual energy spectrum... points to an extremely efficient, yet completely beyond our understanding, spatial phase modulation technology!"
The technical manager transmitted a real-time generated multidimensional spectral analysis map and a high-resolution fragment scan map.
"The 'Alpha' scanner on site almost overloaded. The energy signature didn't match any records in our database of any known country, organization, or even suspected alien technology. Its... design logic, sir, it's simply not human technology."
Fury's breathing seemed to pause for half a second on the other end of the communication.
His single eye was fixed on the strange diagrams and fragmented images on the screen.
"Location?"
"Sealed off! All debris and associated equipment remains have been marked and are being sealed off with the highest level of sterile and radiation-free isolation by the Ostrich Team. They are being transported to the 'Cube' by the Ghost Transporter."
The technical manager answered decisively.
“Very good.” Fury’s voice deepened, but the weight of it sent a chill down the tech lead’s spine. “Highest priority, highest security level. I want to see them in the ‘Cube.’” Communication was cut off.
A few hours later, in the analysis room at the deepest part of the 'cube' underground.
Fury stood outside the thick, multi-layered explosion-proof glass wall, watching the researchers inside, dressed in the highest level of biohazard suits, carefully operating precision instruments and analyzing the fragments that emitted an ominous glow.
The chief scientist reported via internal communication, his voice trembling with excitement:
"Director, the preliminary reverse engineering results...it's a treasure trove!" The scientist pulled up a complex holographic model:
"The gene-editing blueprints and biological tissue synthesis protocols contained in these fragments far surpass our existing 'super soldier' projects!"
"They point to adaptive modification in extreme environments, such as vacuum, deep sea, high radiation, ultra-fast regeneration of biological tissues, and even... energy symbiotic interfaces!"
"Imagine implanting temporary organs into our deep space agents that would allow them to survive for hours in the vacuum of space! Or creating multifunctional biogels for battlefield first aid!"
“And then there’s the space technology aspect, where this is the real ‘game changer’!” The scientist magnified the model of the space phase module. “Although the application of the Bigfoot is primitive, the core principle involves microscopic spatial folding and stable subdimensional channel generation! Director Fury, what does this mean? It means we have the opportunity to develop a truly practical short-range tactical space jump engine for the Quinjet, and even to create instantaneous deployment capabilities for future space carriers!”
Fury stared silently at the flashing data streams and models, his fingers tapping unconsciously and rhythmically on the edge of the console.
The alien civilization that provided these technologies instantly materialized in his mind from a vague image into a real entity with terrifying technological capabilities.
The Bigfoot Gang? A bunch of idiots who guard a gold mine and do nothing but smash rocks!
“Project codename ‘Shattered Shell’,” Fury’s voice broke the silence, carrying an unquestionable authority. “Unlimited resources, privileges upgraded to ‘Omega’. But remember two things: First, complete stripping! Any code, structures, or biological samples contaminated with the Bigfoot Clan or potential alien wills must be incinerated and purified! We are to establish a completely ‘clean’ S.H.I.E.L.D. technology tree. Second, security increased tenfold! This is now the front line of Earth’s defense! Even a fly that flies in must be traced back to its ancestry!”
Looking at the unimaginable technological blueprint on the screen, Fury picked up his coffee cup, took a deep breath, and then, as if thinking of something, asked the doctor in front of him, "Cosmic Cube, if we were to weaponize its energy now—I mean, combine it with the alien technology we've acquired—could we accelerate the process, or even achieve a leap forward?"
The chief scientist lowered his head and pondered for a while, seemingly recalling the energy parameters released by that magical cosmic cube. Finally, he nodded: "Director, I think we can speed up the process, but whether it can significantly improve performance still needs to be verified."
Upon hearing this, Fury revealed a long-lost smile: "Then, simultaneously initiate the weaponization of the Cosmic Cube's energy, and at the same time, try to understand as much as possible what deeper functions this stone may have."
The scientist nodded, then turned and left.
At this moment, Fury picked up the glass of the same bitter liquid that had never changed in ages, and it seemed to take on a different meaning now.
The sheer ecstasy brought about by this pile of "junk" from alien ruins surged through the nerves of this veteran strategist like an electric current.
This feeling is indeed a hundred times more exhilarating than discovering a whole box of unopened, legendary, extinct Montecristo No. 1 cigars in an underground vault.
In addition, there's the ability to rediscover the Cosmic Cube through alien technology!
At that moment, Fury felt that the scales of luck were tipping in his favor!
"Project Crush," Fury thought the name was too fitting and perfect.
By cracking open the hard shell of this alien technology, S.H.I.E.L.D. will gain an overwhelming advantage.
Bigfoot Gang?
A pathetic bunch of stupid monkeys wielding nuclear weapons like hammers!
Behind them must lie a powerful alien entity—an unknown civilization that is either highly aggressive or at least extremely generous.
Of course, he prefers the former.
Fury's voice rang out in the silent analysis room, carrying an undeniable determination:
"Initiate a covert investigation into the Foot Gang, utilizing the 'X-ray Vision' network. Target: all known and potential leaders of the Foot Gang, expanding the search to include all unusual contacts, fund flows, technology sources, and communication records over the past five years... I need to know how they got involved with this alien connection!"