Pierce's voice trembled with extreme rage and disbelief, every word like poison:
"The Bates family! Under your damn S.H.I.E.L.D. agents' 'protection'! Just a few hundred meters from you! Blown sky-high! By that lunatic! Right before your eyes! Blown to pieces! Nick! Nick Fury! Answer me! How do you explain this?!! Is this your 'safe house transfer protocol'? Transferring them to hell?!"
Fury listened quietly, and even in the pauses when Pierce stopped to catch his breath, he could hear the other party's heavy, near-breakdown gasps.
He didn't immediately refute, nor did he argue.
When Pierce's roar was temporarily interrupted by violent coughing, Fury finally spoke in a steady tone:
"Alexander, calm down."
"'Calm'?!" Pierce's voice suddenly rose, almost cracking, "You tell me to calm down?! I tell you, I don't care about the Bates family's lives! But I gave Bates my word, and I care about my word! And now, my credibility has gone up in smoke with the Bates family! Right under your nose! Nick! Tell me, isn't this a play you directed yourself? To swallow the 'Witch' data I gave you?! Are you and that lunatic in cahoots?!"
Just then, a flash of insight crossed Fury's mind—Hawk Lane's casual yet infinitely malicious instruction when the explosion's dust still filled the air.
The time was right.
He cut off Pierce's uncontrolled accusations, his voice still steady, but with a penetrating power: "Pierce, 'King,' or rather, Hawk Lane, asked me to deliver a message to you."
The phone line instantly went dead silent.
Fury clearly repeated, every syllable weighted with coldness: "He said: 'You're welcome.'"
"…"
Dead silence.
A suffocating silence, lasting several seconds.
As if the person on the other end of the line had suddenly vanished, or had their soul instantly frozen by those words.
Even the heavy gasping ceased abruptly.
Immediately after, Fury keenly detected an extremely faint, almost imperceptible gasp.
Was it extreme shock? Then, Pierce's voice erupted violently, more frantic and out of control than any previous roar, even tinged with a hint of bluster?
"Wh… what?! 'You're welcome'?! What the hell does he mean?! Thank him for what? Thank him for killing the person I was supposed to protect?! Nick Fury! Are you screwing with me?! Are you trying to shift blame?! How could that lunatic ask you to deliver a message to me?! He doesn't even know me!!"
Pierce's voice was like a runaway train, frantically hurtling towards the abyss of self-destruction.
His denial was too urgent, his reaction too intense, far exceeding the scope of mere anger caused by heavy losses.
It was a panicked counterattack after a secret had been glimpsed.
Fury's single eye narrowed into its most dangerous slit; all suspicion at this moment coalesced into a cold sharpness.
"Alexander," his voice deepened, carrying an all-knowing oppressiveness, "Your reaction… is interesting. Let me guess… did Bates know some of your secrets? And Hawk happened to know too? He just eliminated Bates due to a personal vendetta, which coincidentally solved this problem for you, so, he's saying you're welcome?"
"…What the hell do you mean?! Nick!" Pierce's voice clearly choked, followed by an even more frantic roar, but to Fury's experienced ears, the forced panic in that roar was unmistakable. "It's your incompetence that allowed him to exploit a loophole! You dare not pin this on me! How the hell would I know what that lunatic was thinking?! Why did he say that?! What does he want?!"
Pierce's heart pounded wildly in his chest, almost bursting out.
Hawk Lane's "You're welcome" flashed like lightning, splitting open his deepest nightmare—"Welcome"? Welcome for what? For clearing Bates, a potential liability who could expose Hydra's connections?
Pierce knew that Bates would never reveal any Hydra intelligence, even if he died, because his two precious illegitimate children were in his hands. So how did Hawk know?
How could "you're welcome" be explained then?
Did Hawk Lane really know about Hydra?! The thought sent a chill through his veins!
But he absolutely could not admit it! Not a single hint could be revealed! Fury, that old fox, was already suspicious!
"I don't know what he wants," Fury's voice remained cold, cutting through Pierce's psychological defenses with surgical precision, "But I know he did it. And he did it in a way that humiliated everyone. As for why he specifically asked me to deliver that message to you… Alexander, perhaps you know the answer to that question better than I do."
"Enough!" Pierce abruptly interrupted, his voice distorted by forced suppression, "Fury! This isn't over!"
Click!
Beep… beep… beep…
The phone was slammed down on Pierce's end, the dial tone echoing shrilly in Fury's empty office.
Fury slowly lowered the receiver, his face showing no anger at being threatened, only a cold contemplation and even more resolute suspicion.
Pierce's rage was real, but his panic, his over-interpretation and vehement denial of "you're welcome," especially the almost frantic hang-up at the end…
All pointed to the same possibility: Alexander Pierce had deeper secrets, not to be revealed to outsiders.
That phrase, "You're welcome," was like a key, unlocking the door of suspicion in Fury's mind regarding Pierce's true allegiance.
He looked at the dazzling sunlight outside the window, a cold glint in his single eye: "Hawk Lane… who exactly are you? How big of a game are you playing? Pierce… and what layer of shadow are you hiding in?"
He turned to Hill, who had been silently monitoring and whose face was equally grim, and issued new instructions: "Highest priority encrypted directive, target Alexander Pierce. I need all his travel records, communication records, financial flows for the past thirty years, and all potential intersections with any abnormal biological research projects and their associated entities. Top clearance, direct retrieval, no approval needed."