The tail had been following for three blocks now—neither too far nor too close. Honestly, the guy was good. Very good.
Without a trained eye for counter-surveillance, most people wouldn't have noticed a thing.
Take Jarvis, for example. He hadn't sensed anything wrong from start to finish.
Unfortunately for the tail, he never would've guessed that every move he made was already under Alex's watchful eye.
Alex had locked onto the man's heartbeat long ago.
Not just that—he could hear every word of the tail's communication with his superiors, crystal clear.
> "Report your location!"
"Sir, the target is heading north on 71st Street."
"I've deployed a special ops team. They'll rendezvous with you in twenty minutes. Keep your eyes on him."
"A special ops team? Aren't we getting fancy," Alex muttered with a click of his tongue.
Whoever was pulling the strings clearly took him very seriously.
Not that Alex was the least bit afraid.
Still... it looked like he might be running a little late.
"Jarvis, would you mind stopping the car for a moment up ahead?"
Alex straightened in his seat, turning to Jarvis.
"Is something wrong, Mr. Alex?" Jarvis asked with a hint of concern.
"I just remembered—I've got something urgent I need to take care of. Don't worry, I'll head over right after I'm done. Might be a little late, that's all."
"I'll keep it quick."
He spoke earnestly, face calm.
Jarvis hesitated. He wanted to ask what kind of emergency would pop up at a time —but the two of them weren't that familiar yet. It didn't seem appropriate to press.
"If there's anything I can do, Mr. Alex... I've worked with Mr. Stark long enough to know how to handle a few things."
"I appreciate it, Jarvis, but this is personal. Nothing too complicated—I can handle it."
Seeing that Alex had made up his mind, Jarvis wisely let it go. After a moment's thought, he offered,
"Then at least allow me to drive you there. Once you're done, I'll take you straight to Mr. Stark."
"Thanks, but no need. I'd rather not trouble you."
"In that case... alright. I'll inform Mr. Stark of the situation."
Respecting Alex's decision, Jarvis pulled the car to a slow stop by the curb.
Alex wasted no time. He pushed open the door and stepped out onto the street.
As soon as he got out, the black Ford that had been tailing them also pulled over.
A buzz-cut young man stepped out and resumed his not-too-close, not-too-far pursuit.
Alex pretended not to notice, walking casually down the street as if nothing were out of the ordinary.
Two more blocks passed. That was when the buzz-cut man finally began to feel uneasy.
Why was the target heading into such an isolated part of town?
Could he have been discovered?
The man replayed the entire tailing process in his mind. He hadn't made a single mistake.
He was probably just overthinking it.
A sharp honk came from behind. He turned around to see five black SUVs—clearly government vehicles—approaching in formation, aggressive and unrelenting.
He signaled to the agents inside.
> "Target's just ahead. Alright—let's move!"
From the front vehicle, Wade glanced out from the passenger seat, quickly spotting Alex.
The five SUVs veered sharply to block Alex's path, forming a barricade.
Doors flew open, and twenty fully armed agents poured out, surrounding Alex from all sides.
Each one held an assault rifle, muzzles trained squarely on him.
Alex scanned the scene, eyes narrowing when he saw a familiar chatterbox among them.
He already knew who was behind this.
"I knew you'd be wondering—'Who are these guys?' 'What do they want?' 'Are they here to kill me?'—blah blah blah…"
Wade strode out from the encirclement, his mouth running as freely as ever.
"Let me help you out. About a month ago, at that amusement park in Ohio—you remember? You killed a beast. Or, well, not a real beast. More like a man who acted like one. I think you get what I mean."
"You talk too much," Alex interrupted, unable to hold back.
It was like a swarm of mosquitoes buzzing in his ear.
"Let's cut the crap. Tell me what you want, and then I'll decide whether to kill you. No need to waste anyone's time."
Alex's tone was sharp, decisive.
"I was getting to that, until you interrupted me. Anyway—since you didn't deny killing that 'beast,' I'll take that as a yes, alright?"
Wade was visibly annoyed at being cut off mid-rant.
"At this point, does it even matter whether I admit it or not?" Alex said with a cold laugh.
"For God's sake, Wade," a voice barked over the comms—Stryker himself. "He's right. Quit the chatter and just finish the damn job."
Wade sighed, visibly deflating.
"Alright, alright. You need to come with us. Simple enough now?"
"Come with you?" Alex tilted his head, eyes serious. "In that case, when you walk, do you start with your left foot... or your right?"
Wade blinked. "Does it matter?"
He looked at Alex's expression—dead serious. Definitely not joking.
"Uh… right foot?" he guessed.
Alex's eyes flashed red.
"Sorry. I don't like people who lead with their right foot. So I guess… I'll just kill you all instead."
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