Chapter 572

Satisfied?

The people gathered inside the command vehicle were more than satisfied with the combat armor they’d just witnessed.

They’d watched the entire demonstration through multiple surveillance feeds while the Eredar Twins provided detailed explanations of the armor’s capabilities. Their understanding of the suit’s performance was therefore far deeper than anything Voodoo King and his men had experienced before dying.

The armor could shrug off assault-rifle fire. It possessed multiple independent visual and sensory systems, a stealth system that came dangerously close to true invisibility, and a strength-enhancement system that amplified the wearer’s physical abilities.

Its bioengineered boots and gloves could even cling to perfectly smooth glass, allowing the wearer to climb silently.

Every one of those technologies had the potential to revolutionize warfare.

There was only one obvious weakness.

Its ranged firepower was relatively limited.

The suit’s sole ranged weapon was the shoulder-mounted cannon, supposedly developed by reverse-engineering Chitauri rifle technology.

Still, nobody seemed particularly worried.

If necessary, they could simply mount a Gatling gun on the other shoulder.

"So this is the product you’re planning to sell to the military?" asked the slightly overweight, bald-headed military official.

Lieutenant General Hogue Elvin was the Department of Defense’s representative for this inspection tour and, as far as he was concerned, the armor they’d just witnessed had to be the company’s flagship military product.

"No."

Salorlas shook her head.

The answer caught everyone off guard.

"This armor is only a prototype."

Hogue stared at her.

That thing was a prototype?

After a moment, he naturally asked, "Then you’re saying the production model will be even more powerful?"

"Not quite."

Salorlas shook her head again.

"The version we’re actually planning to sell will have reduced performance across the board. Its quality will be considerably lower than this one."

Hogue wasn’t particularly surprised.

He simply asked, "Why?"

"This armor is considered a prototype because it incorporates almost every concept we’ve developed."

Oleses calmly explained.

"Building it required us to combine many of the most advanced technologies currently available within our company: advanced materials science, new energy technology, optical systems, biological modification, and more."

She gestured toward the armor displayed on the monitors.

"That makes the manufacturing process extraordinarily complicated. Its production cost is also extremely high, which makes mass production difficult. If we sold this exact model as a commercial product, we would have trouble making a profit."

"And from the military’s perspective," Salorlas continued, "a product that’s expensive and difficult to manufacture isn’t practical for widespread deployment. Maintenance and upkeep would also become a significant burden."

"So we’ve decided to sell you a simplified version instead. Once our research advances far enough to reduce the production cost and make mass manufacturing possible, we can discuss selling an improved model."

She smiled.

"Given the current circumstances, that’s the most practical arrangement for everyone."

For once, the Eredar Twins were being completely honest.

The development of the Predator armor had been the longest, most labor-intensive, and most expensive project undertaken by Umbrella since the company’s founding, with the sole exception of the Pharah armor.

Gnos and his three assistants had spent half a month assembling the thing.

The project alone had consumed two hundred thousand dollars in research funding.

Half had gone toward wages and bonuses.

The other half had gone toward materials, utilities, and everything else required to build the prototype.

Mass production was another matter entirely.

Gnos had practically wept when he’d explained the problem.

Give me three days and I can build a machine tool from scratch.

Then I can make a few hundred suits a day.

Want more than that? I’ll need to build another machine tool.

Apparently, industrial manufacturing was harder than slapping together a superweapon.

"I see."

Hogue wasn’t remotely offended by the company’s intention to sell the military a downgraded product.

If anything, he was accustomed to it.

He’d spent enough years in the Department of Defense negotiating weapons contracts to understand exactly how arms manufacturers thought.

The American military purchased much of its weaponry from privately owned defense companies. Enormous profits encouraged those companies to develop increasingly sophisticated weapons for the government.

But they rarely sold their very best technology.

Why would they?

If they sold their absolute best product immediately, what would happen to all the inferior versions they’d already developed?

Profit maximization was the name of the game.

A company would win a contract, sell the military a sufficiently advanced but already-outdated product, extract as much value from it as possible, and then, several years later, unveil an upgraded version.

By then, of course, they’d already have something even more advanced waiting in the wings.

So Hogue regarded the Eredar Twins’ approach as perfectly normal.

"Then submit a proposal for your simplified version later."

Hogue’s tone remained casual.

"One warning, though. The Department of Defense will review the proposal, so don’t simplify it too much."

Buying an inferior product was one thing.

Selling the military literal junk was another.

"Of course."

Oleses smiled.

She didn’t seem concerned in the slightest.

After all, they had a technological monopoly.

Even if they actually handed the military a piece of scrap metal, the government would probably treat it like a national treasure.

"That’s enough for now. We can discuss the armor later."

Hogue reached into his coat and produced a blue envelope.

"I’ve also been entrusted with a special assignment. The President himself issued the order."

He handed the envelope to the twins.

"This document bears the President’s signature."

"Oh?"

Salorlas accepted it.

"That’s quite an honor. Then what exactly is this assignment?"

The twins opened the envelope and examined the document.

There was almost nothing on it.

It simply stated that Lieutenant General Hogue L. M. Elvin had been granted full authority to carry out the assignment.

The President’s name appeared at the bottom.

There was no actual description of the mission.

Hogue straightened in his seat.

His entire demeanor changed.

"Before I tell you what the assignment involves, I need to make something clear."

His voice became stern.

"This mission was issued directly by the President to the Department of Defense. It is classified at the highest level."

He looked directly at the twins.

"You will maintain absolute secrecy. If the information leaks, you’ll be responsible for the consequences."

He paused.

"Can you do that?"

"We’re happy to keep secrets."

The twins initially answered with smiles.

That apparently wasn’t serious enough for Hogue.

Their expressions immediately became solemn.

"We guarantee complete confidentiality."

"Good."

Hogue nodded.

Then he revealed the purpose of the meeting.

"The United States government needs a superhero."

"A superhero?"

Salorlas looked puzzled.

"You already have Captain America, the country’s legendary hero. Is one not enough?"

"Captain America is the military’s symbol. The embodiment of the American spirit."

Hogue’s expression darkened.

"I grew up listening to stories about him. Personally, I still admire the man."

He sighed.

"But reality is painfully ironic."

"Captain America no longer belongs to the United States."

"He takes his orders from S.H.I.E.L.D."

Captain America’s original personnel affiliation had been with the Strategic Scientific Reserve.

But the SSR had eventually evolved into S.H.I.E.L.D.

And S.H.I.E.L.D. had since become an international organization.

The American government couldn’t simply order Captain America around anymore.

If they needed his help, they could swallow their pride and ask.

Captain America would almost certainly agree.

But issuing him a transfer order?

Not a chance.

"What about Iron Patriot?" Oleses asked.

"I recall the President was very fond of him."

"Don’t remind me."

Hogue rubbed his forehead.

"That whole affair was a disaster."

The Mandarin crisis had recently thrown the country into turmoil.

To reassure the public, strike fear into terrorists, and protect himself, the President had elevated War Machine into the symbol of a new hero: Iron Patriot.

Unfortunately, Rhodey had accomplished almost nothing.

His attempts to hunt down the terrorists had produced no results, and he had eventually fallen into a trap.

Worse, the man who was supposed to protect the President had effectively been turned into a Trojan horse.

He had become the means by which the enemy infiltrated Air Force One.

Afterward, the President couldn’t help thinking that if the Eredar Twins and their bodyguards hadn’t been there, his life might have ended that day.

"And there’s another problem."

Hogue’s voice grew even more pained.

"Colonel Rhodes is extremely close to both Tony Stark and S.H.I.E.L.D."

He grimaced.

"Who knows? Nick Fury might wave him over one day and Rhodes would come running."

Captain America’s situation could at least be explained.

S.H.I.E.L.D. had established that relationship long ago.

But an active-duty Air Force colonel openly cozying up to S.H.I.E.L.D.?

That was harder to swallow.

The military couldn’t exactly punish Rhodes for it, either.

And firing him was even worse.

War Machine’s armor had been given to Rhodes personally by Tony Stark. It wasn’t military property.

Fire Rhodes and they lost the armor along with him.

That would be a substantial loss.

And there was always the possibility that Nick Fury had deliberately engineered the entire situation.

The old fox could have been baiting them.

If the military kicked Rhodes out, he might simply walk into S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters the next morning and take a new job.

The thought alone was enough to give Hogue a headache.

"I understand."

Oleses nodded.

"You don’t merely need a superhero."

"You need a superhero who is completely under the control of the United States government."

She tilted her head.

"Let me guess. You want our company to custom-build one."

"Exactly."

Hogue nodded.

"You create the superhero. We purchase him."

He spread his hands.

"It’s that simple."

"As for the publicity afterward, that’s none of your concern. Naturally, this transaction officially does not exist."

"No problem."

Salorlas smiled.

She didn’t seem to think the request was particularly difficult.

"Do you already have a candidate? I assume you don’t want our company supplying the person itself."

"Of course not."

Hogue produced another envelope.

Selecting the right person was a matter that required extreme caution.

The candidate had to be physically healthy enough to survive biological modification.

More importantly, he needed the right values.

He had to be unquestionably loyal to the United States.

The Eredar Twins opened the folder.

Inside was a stack of personnel profiles.

There were only a dozen or so candidates.

The files contained physical performance statistics and psychological test results.

Nothing else.

Salorlas flipped through them.

"That one."

She casually selected a file and handed it back.

She appeared to have carefully studied the candidates.

In reality, she’d simply pulled one at random.

Hogue looked down at the selected profile.

The lucky candidate’s name was Jeffrey Mason.