Bullets poured like rain.
In less than a heartbeat, Henry's armored sports car was surrounded, the asphalt sparking as shells clattered and ricocheted in every direction.
The convoy ahead — commanded by Breaker and Wren — took the brunt of the assault. Their vehicles shook under the relentless impact, the bulletproof plating screaming under the pressure.
The sight ignited Breaker's fury.
"They're attacking the President right in front of us!" he roared. "Do they think the Ames Guard doesn't exist?"
He slammed his fist down, opening the comm channel. "All units, prepare to engage!"
"Yes, Captain!" came the synchronized reply through the radios.
Even though many of the Ames Guard were still undergoing partial repairs from earlier missions, their combat instincts had not dulled. Metal fingers tightened around weapons, eyes glowed blue, and synthetic muscles whirred to life.
"Good," Breaker growled, pulling the pulse rifle from his waist holster. "Let's show them what Vanderbuilt soldiers can do."
With a single motion, he kicked open the car door, rolled across the pavement, and opened fire.
At the same time, every Ames Guard soldier did the same — doors burst open, rifles raised, coordinated bursts lighting up the night.
"Target detected."
"Locking enemy position."
"Engaging hostile forces."
The Modia Units — emotionless yet precise — advanced through the chaos. Bullets cut through the air, yet the Units didn't even flinch. Fear was not part of their programming.
From another car, Izzy joined the battle, coordinating the team's movements through the tactical network.
And then, Sabine, one of the few human officers in the unit, emerged as well. She wasn't as reckless as Breaker, but her precision made her lethal. Her rifle cracked with perfect timing — every shot struck a head.
One by one, the attackers fell. The black-suited mercenaries who had surrounded the convoy were forced to take cover behind armored shields. Sparks and smoke filled the street as cries of pain echoed through the night.
"Damn it!" shouted their commander, ducking behind a burning vehicle. "We need support! Bring in the heavy units!"
He barked into his radio, and moments later, the sound of rotors thundered through the sky.
Two massive twin-rotor helicopters appeared from the darkness, spotlights sweeping across the battlefield. From their open doors, armed silhouettes stared down coldly at the chaos below.
Among them stood one figure whose presence chilled the air — the Winter Soldier.
His half-metal arm glinted under the lights as he looked down, silent and emotionless.
Henry glanced up from inside his car, a faint, cold smile crossing his face. "Well, they've sent quite the welcoming party."
Even Nick Fury had never faced this much aggression. The number of forces deployed against him meant one thing — someone high up wanted Henry dead.
"President," Izzy said quickly, eyes on the radar. "Do you want to activate Satellite Zenith for orbital support?"
Henry shook his head, smirking. "No need. Let's see what kind of show they can put on."
---
The Ames units below continued their counterattack, firing in synchronized bursts. Explosions lit up the streets, yet the enemy's reinforcements kept coming.
Then — a shadow fell from the sky.
Boom!
A figure crashed onto the road like a meteor, carving a deep crater into the pavement. Cracks spider-webbed across the ground.
As the dust cleared, the man stood — the Winter Soldier, his left arm gleaming steel under the rising flames. His landing mirrored that of Iron Man, one hand pressed to the ground, the other flexing the mechanical arm that had ended countless lives.
Behind him, four more enhanced soldiers descended from the helicopters, sliding down ropes and landing with surgical precision.
The Ames soldiers turned their rifles toward them, instantly opening fire.
But the bullets couldn't catch them.
Each of the Winter Soldiers moved faster than any human eye could track. They weaved through the hail of gunfire, sidestepping bullets as though dancing through time. Within seconds, they were upon the Ames front line.
Crack! One mechanical fist shattered a Modia Unit's skull.
Bang! Another tore straight through its chest, ripping out the glowing core.
The battlefield turned into chaos as synthetic parts and steel limbs scattered through the air.
The leader — the original Winter Soldier, Bucky Barnes — didn't bother with the others. His cold blue eyes locked directly on Henry's car.
"Target acquired," he said into his comm. Then he started walking.
Every Modia Unit that tried to block his path was ripped apart within seconds. His movements were brutal and precise — every strike disabling, every throw lethal.
Henry watched him through the windshield, unimpressed. "So that's him," he murmured. "The legendary assassin who once rivaled Captain America. Not bad."
Breaker reloaded and gritted his teeth. "Orders, sir?"
"Hold formation," Henry replied coolly. "Let's see how long he lasts."
---
Meanwhile, Wren, crouched behind a damaged car, had begun attaching a transformation belt to one of the standby Modia Units. She was preparing to deploy an experimental battle form, one powered by an Upgrade Key.
Just as she locked the belt into place, one of the helicopters tilted sharply.
Inside the cockpit, a HYDRA pilot shouted, "She's trying to activate the puppet system! Take her out before she transforms!"
The gunner didn't hesitate. His finger slammed down on the missile control.
Whoosh!
A Sidewinder missile streaked out of the aircraft, its tail flame slicing through the sky.
Wren's eyes widened as the incoming missile illuminated her face. "No—!"
She dove sideways, rolling across the ground, but the Modia Unit she'd been working on wasn't so lucky.
Boom!
The explosion tore the night apart. A fireball engulfed the Unit, sending flaming debris across the street. The shockwave blasted Wren backward, hurling her into a broken guardrail.
Sparks and dust filled the air. When the smoke cleared, pieces of the Modia Unit were scattered like shrapnel. Its transformation sequence had been completely obliterated — the activation interrupted.
Among the wreckage, the Upgrade Key spun through the air and embedded itself into the asphalt, glowing faintly.
Wren coughed, her mechanical eye flickering. "System alert… left leg malfunction… repair required…" the HUD read before her.
"Damn it!" she shouted, pounding the ground in frustration.
Henry, watching from his car, narrowed his eyes. "So they were ready for that. They even predicted the transformation sequence."
Izzy frowned, checking the system log. "Sir, they're trying to suppress our tech advancement! They must've studied Modia prototypes."
Henry's lips curled into a sharp grin. "Then it's time to show them what they missed."
Outside, Breaker and the remaining Ames soldiers regrouped, surrounding Henry's car once more. They fired relentlessly, trying to hold the attackers back, but Bucky had already reached the outer perimeter.
His metal arm caught one of the Modia Units mid-punch. With a twist, he tore it apart. Pieces of advanced machinery fell to the ground like broken toys.
The night roared with gunfire and explosions, but amid the chaos, Henry's mind was cold and still. He wasn't panicking — he was calculating.
"This is only the beginning," he muttered. "Let them believe they've cornered me."
He raised his wrist communicator. "Izzy, deploy the secondary squad — Guardian Class Modia Units. Let's end this farce."
Izzy's eyes lit up. "Understood, sir."
Within seconds, the transport vehicles behind the convoy opened, releasing a new wave of machines — larger, heavily armored, with glowing red visors.
The Guardian Units stepped into the firelight.
Their weapons locked onto the approaching enemies.
The moment of silence before the storm broke — and then all hell erupted again.
The sky burned. The ground trembled.
And for the first time, HYDRA learned that Vanderbuilt Technologies was far from defenseless.
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