Chapter 41

When the 1.91-meter-tall Hawkeye, Clint Barton, walked into the office, Nick Fury, always wearing a black trench coat and sitting behind his desk with his hands folded, got straight to the point in a deep voice:

"Clint, we've lost contact with Natasha."

"What's going on?"

Hawkeye was still in casual clothes. He had rushed over immediately after receiving the call and had no idea what had happened.

Fury briefly explained Black Widow's mission.

"She hasn't contacted us twice in the past four days. This isn't normal."

"That's definitely not normal for Natasha." Hawkeye nodded. He knew Black Widow better than most. She was always punctual, always precise. "What do you need me to do?" he asked.

Hawkeye and Black Widow were old partners, closer than most could understand. There was no way he'd just sit back while she was in trouble.

Fury walked to his desk, picked up a file, and handed it to Hawkeye.

In this era of modern technology, Nick Fury was probably the only one in S.H.I.E.L.D. who still insisted on using paper files and pagers—a relic from his days as a World War II veteran.

Hawkeye took the file, gave it a quick glance, and immediately frowned. "The Apostle? You had Natasha investigating this guy?"

Just because he was on vacation didn't mean he was out of the loop. Hawkeye knew exactly who the Apostle was.

A dangerous figure who had suddenly appeared on the scene, the Apostle had no problem going toe-to-toe with Iron Man, showing he wasn't just some low-level thug.

The fact that Natasha had gone off the grid while investigating him sent a chill down Hawkeye's spine.

Fury's one good eye locked onto Hawkeye. "Bring her back."

Hawkeye gave a solemn nod. "I will."

Without another word, he took the file and left the director's office.

As soon as he was outside, Hawkeye swapped his casual clothes for his full combat gear:

A specialized compound bow equipped with an infrared sight, crafted from titanium alloy with pinpoint accuracy within 0.2 millimeters.

A custom-made quiver stocked with eleven different types of modified arrows, each with unique functions.

A form-fitting combat suit made of resilient Keslav fiber.

According to the file, the tracking locator implanted beneath Black Widow's skin was still transmitting a signal.

That could only mean one thing: she'd been captured and imprisoned, but she wasn't in immediate danger.

The locator was custom-made by S.H.I.E.L.D. If it were removed or if the host died, it would immediately send a distress signal before burning out.

S.H.I.E.L.D. satellites had tracked Natasha's signal to a building in New York, where it had remained stationary for the past four days.

This was a rescue mission.

And the person he'd likely face? The Apostle himself.

Charging in headfirst would be the dumbest move. Fury knew this, which was exactly why he'd called Clint in.

Hawkeye scanned another document.

According to the intel, the signal was coming from an abandoned warehouse in Queens. The property belonged to an American who had moved to Canada five years ago and now lived in Ottawa. He'd already been taken into custody by the Canadian police, who were cooperating with S.H.I.E.L.D.

The man confessed to renting out the warehouse online, with all payments handled electronically. The police were still digging deeper.

"So, the Apostle's covering his tracks. He's no rookie."

But Hawkeye didn't have time to wait for more intel. Every minute wasted was another minute Natasha could be in more danger. He had to move now—just like she had for him in the past.

Fully armed, Hawkeye jumped into his Chevrolet and sped toward the target.

"Apostle, let's see what you've got."

---

Meanwhile, at lunchtime, Luke made himself a gourmet burger from Burger Nina. Out of sheer humanitarian decency, he made one for Black Widow too.

"Eat up. Don't worry, it's not poisoned."

Luke slid the burger through a small opening in the reinforced glass cell.

Without hesitation, Black Widow picked up the burger, took a bite, and admitted, "Not bad." But she didn't eat more and set it aside.

Luke didn't ask why. He knew it wasn't about watching her weight.

He glanced at the stainless steel basin nearby. It was empty.

Luke shrugged, walked back to the workbench, devoured his burger in a few quick bites, and resumed tinkering with the mechanical parts spread across the table.

Beside him was a massive mech dock, over six meters tall, with a huge mechanical arm suspended from it.

Over the past few days, he had constructed the arm skeleton of the G-0 War Lord. The internal circuitry was complete, and he was now attaching the external armor.

While working, he made no effort to hide anything from Black Widow.

Of course, there was a method to Luke's madness.

A confrontation with S.H.I.E.L.D. was inevitable. Natasha's disappearance wouldn't go unnoticed, and S.H.I.E.L.D. would send someone sooner or later—probably within the next day or two.

Luke was betting Fury wouldn't come out swinging right away.

Based on what he knew about Fury, when something had already gone down, Fury preferred diplomacy and recruitment over outright aggression. Just look at how he handled Tony Stark.

Luke figured Fury would send someone, but not an entire squad.

And honestly, he wasn't afraid of anyone they could send.

In the end, both sides would have to sit down and negotiate.

By showcasing his abilities now, Luke knew he'd increase the odds that Fury would try to recruit him rather than fight him. He knew the little secret Fury kept tucked away in his heart—the Avengers Initiative.

Luke wasn't particularly interested in joining the Avengers, though. Maybe if they made him the leader.

For now, he'd rather build his own power base in the Marvel universe.

He wanted Fury to understand that they could be allies—but only if S.H.I.E.L.D. treated him as an equal.

And in Luke's mind, there was only one way to demand equality: beat your opponent first.

When the time for real negotiations came, Black Widow's firsthand account of his prowess would give him leverage. Fury would be more cautious, more willing to compromise.

Perfect.

To put it simply, Luke needed a witness—someone to observe the birth of the G-0 War Lord from the ground up.

As an intelligence officer, Black Widow wasn't going to miss the chance to study the Apostle up close. She mentally logged every move Luke made, but the more she watched, the more impressed she became.

She wasn't an expert in mechanical engineering, but even she could tell Luke was operating on another level.

She finally asked, "What's with all this? You're only seven years old, right?"

"If I told you I'm a genius, would you believe me?" Luke didn't even glance her way, his hands flying over the lathe.

Natasha thought about it and replied seriously, "Yeah. I believe it."

She'd seen her fair share of precocious kids—hell, she'd been one herself.

The Red Room had been a Soviet KGB training facility for elite spies. It was there she'd learned assassination and espionage from a young age. The Red Room made her, but it was a chapter in her life she didn't like revisiting.

The kids from the Red Room were all ahead of their peers, but none of them came close to Luke's level of genius.

Black Widow chalked up Luke's talents to sheer prodigy-level intelligence. It was the only way to explain how a kid could possess such extraordinary skills and create tech that even the military would envy.

At that moment, an alarm suddenly blared through the warehouse.

"What's that?" Black Widow's brow furrowed as her heart skipped a beat.

"Someone's coming."

Luke strode over to a computer screen displaying several surveillance feeds.

This was an AI-powered alarm system designed by his assistant, Ross. By tapping into thousands of nearby street cameras, Ross could constantly analyze the surroundings and flag any potential threats.

One feed zoomed in on a tall figure moving suspiciously after getting out of a car. Ross immediately flagged him as a threat.

The man on the screen had piercing, hawk-like eyes.

"Hawkeye," Luke murmured. He had a feeling it would be him.

Black Widow saw her old partner on the screen, pursing her red lips but saying nothing.

Then, in a stroke of someone's twisted humor, the alarm blared again: "The enemy will arrive on the battlefield in 30 seconds… Crush them!"

Black Widow's heart lurched.

She quickly called out, "Hey, don't hurt him! Clint's just here to save me—"

But Luke had already climbed into his Tornado aerial combat mech, sealed the hatch, and blasted out of the warehouse.

"I don't know if that little bastard heard me or just chose to ignore it," Black Widow muttered, staring up at the blue sky as the warehouse roof closed over her. She was genuinely worried for Hawkeye now...

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