Transport Contract – The Old Ice Pop

Putting aside the Marvel world's aura and what he knew and estimated about it, Leo was resistant to this mission. That's because Natasha's big boss came off as cunning in a petty way

"I've set up many temptations and carefully designed this mission. You're definitely going to accept it."

But what exactly was on the ship?

No answer.

To put it bluntly, the big boss was selfish and arrogant. His attitude toward both his subordinates and partners was:

"I trust you, but don't ask what we're doing. Just believe in me."

It was a gamble, and Leo could only bet that Nick Fury wasn't setting him up and that whatever was on the ship was genuinely important.

"Tanzania?" Natasha didn't understand.

"Yes. My people set out for Africa two days ago. They're expected to arrive in Tanzania in about a month. I'm guessing that's why your boss came to me.

Originally, your ship was supposed to set sail from the UK and cross the Atlantic to reach the west coast, right?"

"I don't know."

"I'm sure that was the plan. Then, they cut off communications near the UK, masked the ship's signal, and changed course toward the Mediterranean. They would've crossed the Suez Canal and gone south around Cape Hafun, just in time to rendezvous with my ship.

And I bet the ship has already left port—even without confirming whether I agreed to escort it—because this thing is already on fire."

Leo walked over to the world map on the meeting room wall and used his fingers to trace and guess the full picture of the event.

"Why?" Natasha was genuinely puzzled this time.

"Your boss went through so much trouble to get me to take the job, but by the look of things, your organization isn't exactly small or simple.

For the head of a large, structured, professional intelligence agency to privately hire a transport company? The only thing I can think is… he's leaking information.

He's stealing from his own house. This whole operation was probably done during the time of a cyber upheaval when intelligence channels were down.

But if you walk by the river long enough, your shoes will eventually get wet. If everything had gone smoothly, he would've pulled this off without anyone knowing."

"But how did you know the route?"

"I guessed." Leo glanced at Natasha. "Using the Suez Canal to ship something to America is a long detour. High-value cargo usually comes from either warzones or Europe.

If we rule out strategic weapons, I think Europe is the more likely origin.

So the last port of call for that ship was either the UK or somewhere else in Europe—but that doesn't matter."

Natasha was a spy. Despite her broad knowledge, her profession meant she wasn't likely to think through all of this in detail.

But after hearing Leo's analysis, she suddenly thought he might be right.

This mission was also full of mystery for her—Nick Fury had contacted her through a private channel.

"So what are you going to do now? Can I assume you've accepted the job?"

"Yes, I've accepted. Your boss must've known I was going to Africa anyway—he'd better know, because if not, there's nothing more I can do.

From here on, I'll handle everything. Follow my instructions: deliver the cargo to Tanzania, and I'll take care of the rest."

"No."

"Then get lost."

"…Fine." Natasha stopped arguing, realizing it was pointless. "But you said the ship may have already left port?"

"Why don't you try contacting your boss?"

"We're using a special method of communication now."

"Then tell him: I took the job. But the way he's doing this…"

Leo turned around and spread his hands:

"This is high-risk. I can't guarantee anything. Also, I have a question: why not use air transport?"

At that, Natasha answered seriously:

"We meant to warn you about that too—air transport isn't safe."

As she spoke, she pulled out a third document from her chest.

The file was labeled: Unclassified Aviation Incident Report.

Leo looked at the file. "I appreciate you sharing intel, but don't you think this warning came a little late?"

Frank had already set out. If he hadn't been extra cautious...

Natasha could only apologize:

"We're short-staffed. I was on another mission and couldn't make contact with you earlier.

Since this is urgent, I won't stay any longer."

Before she could finish her sentence, Leo was already heading for the door, not even looking back:

"Alright. Go. And be quick."

Natasha stood there stunned.

Apologizing was, after all, a weapon just as effective for women as anything else—

She hadn't given up on using her best skills. She couldn't believe it—could an 18-year-old virgin really have no reaction at all?

Yet Leo had walked away like he was avoiding the plague, like he was in a hurry to get home.

She looked down at her body and, for the first time, doubted her own abilities.

Leo was busy, and the situation was urgent.

Most importantly, there was a major complication: sea communication was poor, and Leo didn't have access to a reliable satellite network. He couldn't give Frank real-time orders.

So the most feasible plan was to have people from Wakanda set out by sea and use radio equipment to contact Frank.

That way, they could at least let Frank reroute to intercept the ship.

Once the transoceanic line was connected, Leo directly contacted T'Chaka and the royal guard in Wakanda.

[Leo: Your Majesty, there's an urgent matter. A ship may be heading south through Somali waters.]

[Leo: I hope you can send someone to sea and contact my man. Have them sail north to intercept the vessel.]

[T'Chaka: Is it important?]

[Leo: The shipping fee is over $12 million. It's important.]

[T'Chaka: Understood. The Royal Guard will assist our friend.]

After leaving the building, Natasha drove out to the outskirts, then took out a small pager—

A very old-fashioned design, but as long as the signal wasn't deliberately jammed, the chance of information leakage was near zero.

"Boss, he accepted. But he insists on delivering the cargo straight to Tanzania."

"Good. As long as he's willing to take the job, the rest doesn't matter."

"He also said—You must be in deep trouble. Is that true?"

There was a moment of silence on the other end.

"Yes. We're being hunted hard. I can barely trust anyone."

"So who's escorting the cargo ship?"

"Clint. Right now, you two are the only ones I can trust and direct.

It's a bit late, but I still want to know—what do you think of Leo?"

Natasha thought back on their entire conversation. To be honest, her first impression was:

This guy might not be a man.

But putting aside that subjective judgment…

She recalled how composed Leo had been, how he rubbed the armrest while thinking. In that moment, she had the distinct thought:

"Don't interrupt his thinking."

She was a spy—everything she showed on the surface should be under control. But at that moment, that thought had genuinely affected her actions.

No matter the reason, that was rare.

"There's no way he's just an 18-year-old kid."

Natasha said firmly.

Being emotionally mature is one thing. But maturity from experience and trauma is different from naive maturity.

Others might believe Leo's ID, saying he's 18.

But Natasha didn't—she trusted her instincts more.

"Strange, but that works in our favor."

On the other end of the line, Fury sounded a little tired.

"So, boss—what's in the ship?"

"A person."

Someone they had just dug out of the Arctic.

An old ice pop.

[TN: The guy with America's ass. How much you guys want to bet since this is au marvel, this is Hydra Captain America.]