The beautiful daily life of Black Light Salted Fish

After continuing to escort for more than ten minutes, the last escort fleet successfully arrived.

This journey is nearing its end.

In another hour, the plane will approach the island of Ireland and then enter British airspace. Watson sat on the sofa, the dust and blood stains all over him had not yet been cleaned up. There was an ice coffin placed in the center of the VIP room - this was actually a long box that the soldiers filled with buckets of crushed ice, and then put the body bag containing Bucky, the Winter Soldier, into it.

Old Mrs. Carter half-opened her eyes.

She had been looking at the ice coffin for a while and didn't know what she was thinking. Watson did not disturb him. The other party now needs time to calm down. So he just opened the ammunition box given by Howard, took out the ammunition and started to replenish it. Because there was a hole in the wall, Watson still wore a gas mask, and the room seemed a little quiet and solemn.

"What are you going to do?"

The two were silent for more than ten minutes, and Watson decided to ask.

"...Cryopreserved."

Peggy squeezed out these four words from her lips, then lowered her head and closed her sour eyes tightly: "This is all my fault. If I didn't want to avoid alerting the enemy and deliberately missed some exploration arrangements, maybe I could have known about Bucky a long time ago, and things would never have turned out like this..."

Well, she'll probably be like this for a while.

Logically speaking, Watson should have offered some words of comfort now, but he didn't. The old lady needs to vent her emotions, and blaming herself out loud is one of the ways, which is better than keeping it in her heart. But of course this must be done in moderation. After all, everyone will adjust themselves. If she sinks deeper and deeper in the next two days, Watson will have to find a way to divert the other party's attention.

But he felt that this incident would not bring down Paige. Having been the intelligence chief for more than ten or twenty years, he must have had many similar experiences.

Putting the filled magazine back in, Watson continued his silent companionship. He looked at the equipment in the arms box, among which the big one with a pole was particularly eye-catching.

It was a bullpup anti-material sniper rifle.

When discussing the needs with Howard Sr., Watson directly copied the shape of Barrett's XM500. This was originally the product of Barrett's expansion into the field of bullpup sniper rifles in 2006 in the original world. Unlike the company's representative product: the M82 series, which has a retracted barrel with a spring installed at the end to absorb recoil, the XM500, like many traditional large-caliber sniper rifles, uses a heavy-duty fixed barrel, so its shooting accuracy is relatively much better.

Thanks to Watson's strong body, designers don't need to worry too much about weapon weight and recoil. The excellent technology of Stark Military Industry, coupled with the various expensive materials piled up with money, enable it to surpass the original version in terms of overall performance. But to truly unleash the power of this beast, Watson must first ensure that he hits the target.

In fact, the enhancements Spider-Woman gave him are already showing.

Holding the gun in his hand, Watson felt strange.

When calibrating the sight, there was no foreign object in his field of vision, but he vaguely felt that he could calculate the bullet's impact point. Just like an ancient archer who has experienced hundreds of battles, as long as the arrow flies out of the bowstring, he knows where it will hit. At the moment of launching the attack, there was no emotion in the brain, as if it had become a cold ballistic computer.

Is this why clockworkers can use self-aiming?

Unfortunately, Watson will not be directly promoted to the gunner because of this, because now this feeling is vague. He felt that he needed several high-intensity exercises to initially master this passive skill that he was not very proficient in yet. However, Watson is really restless now, and the heat spreading in his body is already a bit strong.

Dozens of minutes later, the plane landed safely.

"It's been such a long journey, hasn't it?"

A middle-aged white man in military uniform stood beside the gangway and saluted Mrs. Carter with a military salute. After briefly shaking hands with the other party, Paige showed no expression. Instead, she turned to look at the ambulance that was surrounding her: "Many soldiers died today, Ronald."

"They were soldiers and they did their duty."

Commander Ronald originally wanted to say something for the occasion, but at this moment he no longer pretended: "But at least this time it is a real battle, instead of going to the desert to grab energy for those politicians. Every soldier deserves to die. It's very honorable, and I hope that after this incident, their families can get the compensation they deserve. You should understand that some guys who should have gone to hell can always find excuses to choke their pensions."

"That will never happen, Ronald, I promise you."

"I hope so."

The middle-aged white man sighed, and then turned his attention to Watson beside him: "So you are Agent Zero? I have probably read all the battle reports of each team. I want to solemnly thank you. You saved the entire plane. people."

Watson was feeling hot all over and just wanted to end the conversation quickly: "You're welcome, your soldiers are also very tenacious."

This is actually quite rude.

At that time, he rushed to chase the Winter Soldier Bucky. If the soldiers hadn't worked together to kill the other remaining Winter Soldier, the other party would most likely have chosen to detonate the bomb remotely. At that time, the plane will either partially disintegrate or make an emergency landing in the sea, making it almost impossible to land normally at the airport again.

After bidding farewell to Commander Ronald, Mrs. Carter led Watson to a fleet of vehicles.

"Do you...do you want to go back with me first?"

Distracted by other things, the old lady's mood has obviously improved now, and she is no longer immersed in the self-blame for indirectly causing the death of Bucky, the Winter Soldier: "Or I can send you a car, as long as it is in downtown London. It’s okay inside.”

"Of course I want to go back with you first."

Watson put the Beowulf rifle on his shoulder and continued to distract the other party: "I have either blood or minced meat on me now. I'm afraid I will be chased by the police when I get off the car in the city. By the way, you have to pay I’ll arrange a room, I’m exhausted today, and I’m going to have a big meal when I wake up.”

Well, this little temper tantrum is more like that.

Old Mrs. Carter chuckled and took one of Watson's arms: "Of course, let's go."

Taking advantage of the moment when she turned her head, Paige's expression softened.

In her sight, there were several bodyguards at the end of the motorcade carrying body bags. That was the body of Bucky, the Winter Soldier. Commander Ronald did not stand in the way of this matter. He had already captured several Hydra prisoners and had a large amount of video and image data about the black giant bird, which was enough for this operation.

A few minutes later, the team set off.

At the edge of the crowd, there was a woman quietly watching the leaving motorcade. If Watson had seen this face, he might have recognized the woman as the female soldier he had met in the corridor before the attack. However, she had already changed into the deputy airport ground staff uniform, pulled the wheeled tool box, and disappeared into the other side of the aisle.

......

"Your body temperature is so high, is it really okay?"

"I just want to sleep, trust me."

On the road to the suburbs of London, Mrs. Carter looked worried. Watson's attempt to divert the other party's attention was successful, but he didn't expect that the attention would be diverted to himself. After being patient and talking, Paige gave up the idea of ​​diverting the convoy to the hospital.

For some reason, Watson thought she was a little too nervous.

Perhaps it was because he had just lost his old comrade in arms, Bucky.

The streets of London were very quiet late at night, and while walking through the city just now, Watson saw those street lights again. The ancient Victorian appearance is full of age. If it were a few days ago, he would have walked around and admired it slowly.

But now, my eyelids are getting heavier and heavier.

Finally arriving at the Carter Family Manor in the suburbs, Watson no longer bothered to move his arms box, and hurriedly followed the manor's butler upstairs. He still hasn't taken off his gas mask, and he looks like a serial killer from a horror movie. Fortunately, no one was hanging out late at night, otherwise he would have been frightened by this guy and give him a heart attack.

"The hot water in the bathtub has been put in."

The personable old butler opened a door and nodded to Watson: "Please use it in time, and I wish you a good sleep. Do you need meal service tomorrow morning?"

"I do not need it, thank you."

Watson strode in and threw the Beowulf rifle on the carpet: "Don't come up and call me before tomorrow afternoon."

boom!

The door is closed.

He couldn't wait to pull a chair and jam the handle. Watson took off his equipment and walked to the bathroom. He was holding back his tiredness now, his body was shaking back and forth, and he almost knocked over the vase in the corner. He didn't have time to pull the bathroom door and threw his body heavily into the bathtub. A moist heat immediately enveloped the whole body, and a red mist appeared in the water, which was all blood stained on the skin.

Watson leaned his neck against the headrest and lost consciousness.

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Late at night on the quiet island of Great Britain, Watson was sleeping deeply, and old Mrs. Carter also pulled up the sheets and closed her eyelids after some thoughts. But for some people who continue to pay attention to the situation, this is not the case at all.

"'North Star' has returned safely."

"Then let's start the cleaning process."

"Already doing it, sir."

"very good."

Zhi...zhi...

In the empty conference room, several large screens formed a circle. At this time, there is a human face reflected on each screen, including the new World Security Council member Gideon Malik, the new S.H.I.E.L.D. director Alexander Pierce, and Wolfgang Pearce wearing single-chip red light goggles. Baron von Strucker and several other men and women.

This is obviously an online meeting of Hydra's top brass.

"I guess I have to break the bad news, ladies and gentlemen."

Gideon's eyes slowly scanned the entire scene: "Our operation failed, once again."

The needle drop could be heard in the conference room. Seven or eight faces, illuminated by the blue light of the screen, looked very sci-fi. The field was quiet for more than half a minute. Baron Strack was the first to break the silence: "I personally suggest that everyone should not be immersed in the emotion of failure. We should refocus our attention to ensure that there will be no mistakes in the subsequent cleaning up work." ..."

"That's easy to say!"

Before he finished speaking, Baron Otto sarcastically said: "You haven't lost either your big plane or your weather baby. Of course you can say this with peace of mind!"

Baron Strucker shrugged his shoulders and remained silent.

To say who suffered the heaviest losses among this group of people, it was undoubtedly Otto Wilmitz. In fact, compared to several other veteran Hydra executives, his background is very poor. Although Alexander Pierce also lost a few Winter Soldiers, it was not all of them after all; and Otto's cutting-edge power was only 'Arachne', and it was only because of this woman who could discharge electricity that he barely qualified to join the high-level meeting.

But I didn't expect that the bench might be lifted off before it was warm.

All in all, you lose all your money.

It's very much like stock trading.

Looking at the gloomy-looking Otto Wilmitz, Baron Strucker did not retort. The other party's howl of defeat is enough to make people feel happy. The current mentality of Hydra's senior executives is, to a certain extent, similar to failing in an exam. Although I did fail in the exam, one of my classmates did worse than me.

That's great.

And from another perspective, I am already the one with the least losses among this group of people. When he thought of this, a strong sense of superiority emerged from Baron Strucker.

"Okay, everyone."

After another silence for a while, Gideon Malik took the initiative to smooth things over in a boss-like manner: "Now that things have become like this, we can only stop the losses in time. I know that some people have suffered a lot of losses, which is indeed very regrettable. So we Reexamine every detail of the operation until you find out what went wrong."

"Speaking of finding a problem, I found one."

A man suddenly spoke, attracting everyone's attention.

"...tell me?"

"Not only are we involved in this operation, but there is also another force." The man picked up a few photos and showed them in front of the camera: "Look at this beauty, does it look like the signature method of a certain organization?"

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(The system doesn’t know why it swallowed the picture. I’ll add more tomorrow when I have time)