Chapter 74: Information provided by Madame Viper

[ Viper's Safehouse, Tokyo, Japan ]

Fighting Nazis was practically a national sport in S.H.I.E.L.D. circles and politically correct thing to do in S.H.I.E.L.D. and even the entire Western world—and Daisy knew it. Taking down leftover fascists was not just patriotic but politically bulletproof. It could polish her résumé like a flamethrower through cobwebs. If the intel was good, this wasn't just a mission—it was political capital. Because while she might be the backbone of the Nick Fury faction right now, Daisy wasn't naïve enough to think Fury would promote her out of pure affection. No, she needed achievements. Great achievements.

Her eyes narrowed. "Where is it? Tell me." Her voice cut like a scalpel.

Madame Viper had a stacked deck, but most of her cards were laced with poison—sometimes literally. She couldn't afford to toss just anything to Daisy. The Nazi lead was already pushing the boundaries of her self-preservation instincts. If Daisy slipped up, the bastard she gave up might crawl back for vengeance, and Viper wasn't in peak form to do any slithering away.

It was hard being bad these days. Harder still to be bad and sick.

With a pained groan, she rubbed her throbbing head and asked, "If I tell you… what exactly are you going to do?"

Daisy gave her a look that was half confusion, half disbelief. "What do you think I'm going to do? Report to the director and mobilize a strike team. You don't think I'm planning to solo a bunch of frozen fascists with just snark and sass, do you?"

Nothing is trivial when it comes to dealing with the Nazis. She alone can not raid a Nazi stronghold. So, she can only do some assists in the hail of bullets.

That seemed to ease Viper's worry. Despite their whole mortal-enemies relationship, even Hydra higher-ups had grudging respect for Nick Fury. They called him the king of modern espionage—off the record, of course. If Nick himself led the charge, the remaining Nazi Society wouldn't stand a chance.

After a long internal battle, Viper made her decision. If she wanted to survive her current mucus-filled nightmare, it was time to pay for it with Nazi blood.

"In Antarctica. Longitude 71.20, latitude 81.91," she said, voice raspy but clear. "That's where Adolf Hitler picked for the Thule Society's final retreat."

Daisy's eyebrows arched. "Antarctica? SHIELD's combed through that place like ten times. I've read the reports—three large-scale raids, plus a bunch of civilian expeditions camping on glaciers with Wi-Fi. How the hell have they stayed hidden?"

Viper gave a smug little sniff that might've been more impressive if her nose wasn't glowing red. Still, the haughtiness was there. "The Red Skull had technology are far ahead of anything you've got now. And they've had help. The Yashida family has been supplying them for decades. I don't know exactly how—they kept me out of that loop—but it's true."

"Oh?" Daisy muttered, gears turning fast. The missing Yashida supplies—she'd stumbled onto a Nazi pipeline by accident. Sometimes her instincts were terrifyingly accurate. She completed finding Nazis task unintentionally.

Then, memory clicked. The Red Skull. The hammer. The frigid ruins of a fortress lost in ice. This was it—the beginning of the "Origin of Fear."

It wasn't Red Skull himself that made the problem—it was his daughter. There was a hammer down there. Not Thor's, another one. The Hammer of Skadi, Norse goddess of winter. Something about Norse deities and their compulsive hammer tossing.

That hammer wasn't just for show—it was the key to resurrecting Jörmungandr, the world serpent. And the only one who could lift it? Red Skull's psycho daughter.

Daisy wanted nothing to do with it.

She committed the coordinates to memory, already planning how to frame the report so Fury didn't ask too many questions about how she knew. Text? Too risky. Email? Forget it. No, she'd need to build an airtight case and make it look like a personal discovery, not a tip from a flu-ridden frenemy.

"There are too many germs here," she finally said, tugging her scarf higher. "I'm getting you out before this turns into a bioweapon situation."

Viper actually smiled at that—her first sign of joy in days. Daisy helped her wrap up in layers like a fashion-forward burrito, leaving behind the contaminated supplies.

"How do we go?" Viper asked nervously, glancing around. "Don't tell me you're going to put a bullet in me now…"

"Relax," Daisy replied. I know my moral value is not high, but it also depends on the person. Madame Viper is very useful, and she has a contract with Chthon, so she can't kill her.

With a flick of her fingers, she opened a shimmering portal. "Try to keep your lunch down. Dimensional travel's not gentle on flu guts."

Viper grumbled, "Show-off." But she followed.

They emerged miles away in a clean alley under the Tokyo moonlight.

Viper pulled out her phone and tapped a command. Behind them, the safehouse blew sky-high. "Just in case," she said with a cough.

"You know," she added with a twinkle of admiration, "you've got talent. Ever think of freelancing? Your infiltration skills plus my poison? We'd be unstoppable."

Daisy gave her a flat stare. "I have a bright future in S.H.I.E.L.D. Why would I go and play assassination with you? Don't be ridiculous."

"You should have another safehouse, right? Say something..." She'd barely finished the sentence when Viper collapsed mid-step.

"Seriously?!" Daisy rushed forward. The woman was burning up like a fevered furnace.

With a sigh of dramatic suffering, Daisy hoisted her into a bridal carry. "Why is it always me taking care of the murder mommies?"

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[ Hotel, Tokyo, Japan ]

She checked them into a nearby hotel, using cash and a fake ID. S.H.I.E.L.D. field training covered everything—combat, hacking, even medical triage.

Daisy wasn't Sharon Carter, but she could insert an IV with precision. She cooled Viper down, ran fluids, and hooked up a drip. The lung sounds were bad. Pneumonia—definitely. Probably from letting a virus mutate while stewing in her toxic soup of a bloodstream.

Viper had the kind of body that rarely got sick, but when it did, it went all in. Years of exposure to poisons had shredded her immune system. Now, the virus was mutating inside her, becoming something unidentifiable.

Daisy scowled. The IV fluids initially help but now they weren't cutting it. Fever was still climbing.

She called Sharon.

"Pneumonia," Sharon confirmed. "Standard protocol: fluids, anti-inflammatories, cool them down and let the body do the rest."

"She's not responding. Sweating's out. She's borderline dehydrated."

"Then rehydrate her first and then get the fever out. You're going to have to trust the process."

"Ugh. Fine." Daisy hung up and went back to work.

Daisy hung four IV drips on her limbs, giving her large doses of fluids and reducing inflammation, and then completely let her go to recover on her own.

Plus one forehead thermometer, and a bucket of ginger chews later, she finally had Viper stable.

Exhausted, Daisy dropped into a chair and rubbed her temples.

With nothing else to do, she began meditating. Not some new-age lavender-oil nonsense—but actual chi refinement. Kunlun's practice of chi was very inspiring to her. Before, she could only interpret the strings on a macro level, but she had no idea how to use them specifically.

The monks of the East didn't know string theory, but they'd blindly stumbled their way to the same result.

Her mind focused, and she let her powers hum at the edge of perception, weaving together eastern mysticism with theoretical science.

To Be Continued...

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[POWER STONES AND REVIEWS PLS]