7:00 A.M., August 1st, 2009 — Tony Stark's Residence, New York
Marcus's true body stirred awake on the luxurious leather sofa in Tony Stark's living room. After delegating all orders to Alex and withdrawing his consciousness from his clone, he was finally back—ready to resume his role as a former Hydra assassin living under Stark's roof.
The television was still on, filling the quiet room with chatter, but Tony himself was nowhere to be seen. He'd probably rushed off for some urgent business again.
That was fine. Marcus knew Tony would return soon enough—and when he did, there'd be important matters to discuss.
On the TV screen, the familiar face of Mary Jane Watson appeared, the same reporter from The Daily Bugle who had covered the previous day's events.
'So that's Peter Parker's girlfriend,' Marcus mused. 'I wonder how Spider-Man's holding up…'
By his estimation, Peter was likely still unconscious in a S.H.I.E.L.D. medical facility. After the chaos in Queens, the young hero had been too badly injured to interfere. Otherwise, he would've already come swinging back, full of moral outrage and righteous fury.
The broadcast cut to a live interview.
"Good morning, Colonel Rhodes," Mary Jane greeted brightly. "Thank you for agreeing to speak with us."
"Actually," said Colonel James Rhodes, visibly irritated, "I didn't agree to this interview. You people ambushed me on my way out. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a base to run."
Rhodes—better known as War Machine, and one of the few other men who'd ever worn Tony's Iron Man armor—was now addressing the cameras in full military uniform, not powered armor. The fact that he, a U.S. Air Force officer, was personally handling the situation in Queens spoke volumes.
If the military was this involved, Marcus thought grimly, then the next battle wouldn't just pit him against soldiers. He'd soon be facing a combined force of superheroes and the U.S. Navy.
A full-scale war.
But the reporter refused to let go. Mary Jane stepped forward, her tone sharp and insistent.
"Colonel Rhodes, last night the U.S. military began a large-scale evacuation of civilians from Manhattan and surrounding districts, transferring them to other cities. The public deserves to know—what's really happening in New York?"
Rhodes sighed and straightened his cap. "Yes. There was an incident that required immediate action. We suspect a potential nuclear contamination event in the New York area. The military has secured the perimeter. Citizens are advised not to approach the restricted zone."
Then, as if reading from a carefully rehearsed script, he added, "There is no need to panic. The situation is under control. Please cooperate with the evacuation efforts, and everything will return to normal soon."
Mary Jane pressed harder. "But, Colonel, there are multiple reports online claiming there's been a zombie outbreak in Queens. What's your official response to that?"
Rhodes's face darkened. "No comment," he muttered through clenched teeth, pushing through the crowd of reporters as the feed abruptly cut away.
Marcus chuckled softly. "A 'nuclear leak,' huh? Clever."
It was, in a way. Labeling the crisis as a nuclear incident gave the government an excuse to evacuate civilians—and if things spiraled out of control, they could simply drop half a dozen warheads on Queens and call it a reactor explosion.
Devious, but efficient.
It also meant one thing for Marcus: he couldn't push too hard, too fast. If he provoked the U.S. government into a corner, they'd have no choice but to annihilate the entire infected zone—including him and his army—with nuclear fire.
Until the virus had spread worldwide, he needed to let them believe they still had control.
That meant one absolute rule: do not breach the quarantine line.
For now, strengthening his undead forces before the military's full-scale assault was the only realistic strategy.
---
A few hours later, a man arrived at the mansion gate, shouting toward the house.
"Hello? Mr. Tony Stark? I'm here to deliver the supplies you ordered!"
At his feet sat several large crates filled with bottles and canisters—each labeled with chemical hazard signs and color-coded liquids.
The mansion's AI, Jarvis, responded through the intercom. "Identity confirmed. You have a scheduled appointment, Mr. Davis. The door will open. Please place the accelerants, cleaning solvents, and fire-suppression foam in the designated area. Thank you for your cooperation."
The delivery made sense—these were the everyday maintenance chemicals used in the Iron Man armors: fuel accelerants for flight ignition, cleaning agents for internal systems, and fire-retardant foam for emergencies.
Tony handled most of his tech personally, but even a perfectionist like him didn't waste time on minor supplies.
Marcus glanced toward the door as the deliveryman left, muttering to himself. "So much power built on soap and polish. How human."
Without Tony's permission, however, Marcus couldn't enter the basement workshop where the suits were stored. That section of the mansion was sealed behind multiple biometric locks and reinforced security systems—Tony's true vault.
By the time the clock struck eight, Tony finally returned. He looked exhausted, his expression tight and irritable.
The moment he saw Marcus, he went straight to the point.
"Marcus, you're coming with me," Tony said sharply. "There are people who want to see you."
Marcus raised an eyebrow. "S.H.I.E.L.D., right?"
He had been expecting this. From the moment he'd introduced himself as a former Hydra assassin, it was inevitable that S.H.I.E.L.D. would come knocking. In fact, that was part of his plan.
But before he agreed, he decided to plant one more seed.
"You shouldn't take me there," Marcus said evenly. "S.H.I.E.L.D. has already been completely infiltrated by Hydra."
Tony froze. "What?"
He forced a laugh, though it sounded uneasy. "Hydra infiltrated S.H.I.E.L.D.? That's impossible. My father helped found that organization. I've worked with them for years. If Hydra was in there, I'd know."
Marcus's gaze didn't waver. "Every system has weaknesses, Tony. You don't have to believe me—but I know what I'm talking about. I can't tell you how many Hydra agents are inside, but I know who can be trusted."
He leaned forward slightly, voice calm but firm.
"Only two people. Director Nick Fury… and Captain America. Trust no one else."
Tony hesitated. The conviction in Marcus's tone left little room for doubt. After a long silence, he turned away and walked toward the corner of the room, pulling out his phone.
He made a brief call—his voice low and serious—before hanging up and returning to Marcus.
"Alright, kid," Tony said finally. "You win. But we're doing this my way. Only Steve and Nick. No one else."
Marcus smiled faintly. "Good. Then Hydra won't learn about the 'traitor' in their ranks just yet."
And with that, the first threads of his deception began to weave themselves into S.H.I.E.L.D.'s inner circle.
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