Vroooom!
2:30 PM.
The flight from New York touched down, taxiing smoothly to a stop at Ronald Reagan Washington National Airport in Washington, D.C.
Half an hour later.
Traveling light, Hawk walked out of the airport, went straight to the taxi stand, and got into the back of the first cab in line. He gave the address of a motel in Quantico Town to the young driver.
The driver nodded, started the meter, and pulled away from the curb.
Just because the FBI Academy was in Quantico didn't mean the area was off-limits to civilians.
You just couldn't waltz onto the military-controlled parts.
Quantico Town itself, the area surrounding the base, was open to the public.
Any disciplined man is a person of action, and Hawk was a man who had thrown ten thousand punches a day for a thousand straight days.
His ability to act was second to none.
The moment he'd left the Oscorp building that morning, he had gone straight to the airport and bought a ticket for the next flight to D.C.
He hadn't even gone home to pack a change of clothes.
Fortunately, he had spent all of last night studying the satellite maps of Quantico, roughing out a plan for how he was going to get his Gammanium.
Otherwise, he'd be stumbling around completely lost.
...
"Plan A."
"Get in quiet, get out quiet."
"But if I'm spotted, switch to Plan B immediately."
"Overwhelming force. No survivors!"
Sitting in the back of the taxi, Hawk silently reviewed his plan, then turned his gaze to the scenery passing by outside the window.
And then...
Without changing his expression, his eyes flickered to the young driver in the front seat. He casually pulled his phone from his pocket, the one he'd forgotten to turn back on after the flight.
The phone booted up.
A series of dings announced a flood of incoming text messages.
Hawk's eyebrow twitched. Just as he was about to unlock the screen to see what spam his carrier had sent him this time, a low voice, accompanied by the black, unblinking eye of a gun barrel, filled the car.
"DON'T MOVE. GIVE ME THE PHONE."
"..."
Hawk froze.
Who am I?
Where am I?
What am I doing?
No, seriously.
I'm on my way to rob a military base, and I'm getting robbed the second I land?
Damn it.
This is the nation's capital. Is the crime rate really worse than New York's?
In an instant, Hawk's opinion of Washington, D.C. plummeted.
The young driver, watching him in the rearview mirror, saw that he was frozen. He growled, waggling the gun. "I said, don't move. Hand over the phone."
YOU ARE READING
Marvel: The Enlightened One
FanfictionReborn in the Marvel universe, Hawk learned one brutal truth-safety wasn't something you were given, you had to fight for it. He made himself a promise that day, committing to a path of relentless training and iron discipline that would define the n...
