Chapter 496: I Am Hydra (X)

Outside Triskelion Headquarters, on the surface of the Potomac River, three massive hangar doors, each totaling the size of ten football fields, began to rise. As the compartments drained a large volume of river water, the doors slowly opened, producing a grinding noise so loud that even Salomon, stationed across the river, could hear it. He watched as water cascaded into the hangars like rainfall. The three Nimitz-class Helicarriers, powered by Stark-developed anti-gravity engines, roared to life. These massive engines, glowing with blue-white energy, unleashed such intense heat that the falling water evaporated instantly.

For a brief moment, a thick white mist enveloped the surface of the Potomac. But as the Helicarriers continued their ascent, the rising heatwave burned away the steam, leaving the river's surface clear once again.

Every Helicarrier was powered by Stark's Arc Reactors—only an energy source of that caliber could sustain such advanced propulsion systems. Older models had relied on nuclear reactors and propeller-driven lift, making them slower and less efficient compared to these new-generation carriers.

"They're initiating the launch sequence," Agent Maria Hill reported to Steve Rogers and Sam through an independent communications channel. She had to remain in the satellite control room to provide intelligence support to the front-line operatives, so she maintained her composure. Though Hydra had yet to discover her location, she kept her sidearm on her thigh, safety off, ready to fire at a moment's notice.

Salomon watched as Falcon ignited his jetpack and soared into the sky, while Captain America leaped from the open hangar door, landing on the deck of one of the ascending Helicarriers. There, he immediately engaged Hydra's special forces operatives, who wore S.H.I.E.L.D. uniforms. As the second Helicarrier rose, its anti-aircraft guns activated, but Falcon's agility and sheer luck kept him from taking a single hit.

The mystic opened one eye, ending his long-range scrying spell.

It was time to act.

With the command given, Robert Gonzales led a loyalist strike team into Triskelion Headquarters. Chaos erupted throughout the building—gunfire echoed in every corridor as no one could be certain who might suddenly turn their weapon on them. Paranoia spread like wildfire. Even Gonzales' own squad faced friendly fire due to the overwhelming distrust permeating the battlefield.

Salomon ignored the situation inside Triskelion. That battle would resolve itself soon enough. Once the uprising was crushed, Gonzales could move on to assist the S.H.I.E.L.D. Academy. But Salomon had already denied Gonzales' request for reinforcements there. While loyalist agents abandoned their Helicarrier to fight elsewhere, Salomon had quietly arranged for Wakandan forces to seize the carrier and its fleet of aircraft.

Gonzales made the landing pad his first priority.

By now, all Hydra aircraft had taken off, leaving behind only S.H.I.E.L.D. pilots. While securing Triskelion was crucial, stopping Project Insight took precedence. Gonzales planned to provide aerial support for Steve Rogers, and Salomon had no objections.

The mystic heard the rumbling of tank tracks behind him, engines roaring, while several assault transports screeched overhead. He looked up just in time to see the transports curve sharply to evade anti-aircraft fire. Power-armored androids, their steel wings gleaming, rained down onto the Helicarriers like a storm.

Scarred, battle-worn, and covered in blood and scorch marks, these figures drew the attention of everyone—Hydra operatives and Steve Rogers alike. No one knew where these warriors had come from. The Sisterhood charged headlong into gunfire, storming the bridges of the carriers. Unlike Steve Rogers, they showed no mercy. Any Hydra soldier hit directly by their bullets was ripped in half.

When Quinjet pilots attempted to engage, two androids activated their steel wings and launched themselves at the cockpits. With chainswords in hand, they sliced through the glass, turning the pilots into bloody pulp.

The sheer brutality of their assault set off alarms. Maria Hill, after failing to make contact through the open comms channel, switched to a private line with Sam and Steve, reporting on the mysterious androids.

But Captain Rogers had no time for distractions—he had to seize control of the Helicarriers before they reached three thousand feet. If the Insight satellites established a connection, the program would initiate immediately.

Tita's combat squad leaped from one Helicarrier's deck to another, using their steel wings to glide across. A Quinjet maneuvered around the upper decks, trying to chase down Falcon. The unfortunate pilot flew dangerously close to the deck, using the rows of parked Quinjets as cover.

Then, an explosion tore through one of the ammunition containers.

The shockwave knocked Falcon off balance, sending him tumbling off the deck.

Tita drew the longsword forged by Salomon, its edge infused with force-field technology analyzed by Stark and enhanced by Wakandan engineering. The blade crackled with blue electricity as it sliced effortlessly through a Quinjet's armor plating, cutting through the fuselage like a fish being gutted.

Flames and smoke trailed behind the doomed Quinjet as it spiraled down toward the river.

Meanwhile, a fresh wave of artillery fire erupted from the tree line across the Potomac. A Helicarrier's departing Quinjet was struck by a precise round, exploding in midair. Another well-placed shot destroyed an anti-aircraft turret on the deck, clearing a path for the Sisterhood's advance.

"Hey, girls!" Sam greeted, spotting Tita, whose helmet was off. "Where the hell did you come from?"

"Sam, do not engage them," Maria Hill warned through his earpiece.

She had already figured out their origin.

Steve Rogers' reports had mentioned Salomon's artificial intelligence, but she hadn't expected there to be this many of them.

Tita shot Sam a cold glare before sprinting toward the bridge. Salomon had given them a simple order—eliminate all resistance, force engineering and maintenance crews to comply, and execute the combat, communications, and weapons teams. There was no time for idle conversation.

"Eight minutes, Captain," Maria Hill reported.

What she didn't know was that her entire conversation with Steve Rogers was being monitored by Salomon.

As Steve Rogers breached the armored blast doors leading to the command deck, he entered the chamber housing the Blade Server, the core of the Helicarrier's system.

He wasn't alone.

Sitting before the open access panel of the Blade Server was a familiar figure.

"Salomon? What the hell are you doing here?"

"What are you talking about, Captain?" Maria Hill asked, confused.

Salomon waved a hand dismissively without turning around.

A strange device had been connected to the Blade Server, linking it to his tablet. Lines of code scrolled across the small screen.

"Did I ever mention," he said casually, "that I took a semester of computer science?"

He detached the external keyboard from his tablet.

"I've already taken control of this ship. You're too late."

"You ignored the mission's objectives—"

"I'm an independent contractor," Salomon interrupted, unconcerned.

"You can keep working on your part, but it won't change anything. I've replaced key files in the system. The filenames are the same, but the contents are entirely different. I even added a few extra packages to ensure my override protocols run smoothly…"

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