Chapter 633

Jeffrey Mason was the superhuman the U.S. government had secretly commissioned the Eredar Twins to create for them.

The project was essentially complete.

The only complication was the military’s insistence that their new poster boy look the part. Whatever they unveiled to the public had to remain clean, heroic, and unmistakably human. No grotesque mutations. No obvious demonic features. Nothing that would make ordinary people recoil at first sight.

That ruled out the traditional approach.

Under normal circumstances, the easiest way to empower someone would have been to flood them with fel energy. It worked. Unfortunately, it also tended to do terrible things to the subject’s appearance.

So the Eredar Twins got creative.

First, they put Jeffrey under deep anesthesia. Moira handled the surgery herself, opening him up almost from end to end. His entire skeleton was removed, leaving the operating room looking less like a laboratory and more like a slaughterhouse.

Then Gnos replaced it with a high-strength alloy endoskeleton of his own design.

The entire framework was powered by a fel reactor installed in his chest.

There was no room left in the abdominal cavity for most of his internal organs, so most of them were simply removed. Even his heart was discarded and replaced with a mechanical pump capable of circulating blood more efficiently and with virtually no risk of disease.

His sensory system underwent an equally radical reconstruction.

Every sensory nerve was severed and replaced with a network of sensors embedded beneath his skin. The result was dramatically heightened sensitivity to his surroundings without the usual downside. When he was attacked, he could register damage without feeling pain.

Then there were his eyes.

Gnos considered human vision woefully inadequate. Both of Jeffrey’s eyes were removed and replaced with mechanical optics combining infrared and thermal imaging.

A flashbang could no longer blind him.

His hearing and sense of smell were likewise replaced with electronic systems. He could hear farther than a rabbit and smell better than a bloodhound.

His defenses received another upgrade.

Beneath his skin, they installed a layer of titanium armor. A liquid compound injected into his subcutaneous tissue gave the armor enough flexibility to move naturally while retaining substantial strength. Over the surface, they added an electromagnetic shielding membrane.

His skin was also treated with Extremis, dramatically increasing both the speed and effectiveness of his regenerative abilities.

At this point, there was very little left of Jeffrey Mason that could honestly be called original.

His brain was about the only exception.

And even that had been strengthened and reinforced.

Unfortunately, a human brain, enhanced or otherwise, wasn’t designed to manually control that much hardware. So they installed a miniature computer containing a semi-autonomous artificial intelligence to assist with the calculations.

"Assist" was technically true.

In combat, the computer would actually make every major decision.

Jeffrey would simply experience those decisions as his own. He would never realize that the machine had taken control, much less resist it.

The man beneath the skin was now a machine.

His new designation was Soldier: 76.

Even that name had required a modest debate.

The U.S. military intended to use him as a new national symbol. There was also an unmistakable desire to compete with Captain America. They had originally wanted something grand and imposing, a name that would suggest not only that their new champion could stand toe-to-toe with America’s most famous super-soldier, but that he could overshadow him in name as well.

The Eredar Twins disagreed.

A name like Captain America was undeniably patriotic, but it also carried an enormous sense of representation.

People didn’t like being told someone represented them.

Of course, people were constantly being represented, and often seemed perfectly happy to let someone else make their choices for them.

That was all fine.

It simply wasn’t something you said out loud.

The new hero’s name, therefore, should be quieter. Less distant. Less like a god descending from the heavens and more like a public servant doing a job.

Soldier fit that image perfectly.

And the number 76 had enormous significance in American history, giving the name another layer of patriotic symbolism without sounding grandiose.

After enough arguments and enough justification, the military accepted the proposal.

From that point forward, his official designation and all public-facing material would use the same name.

Soldier: 76.

Now that his construction was finished, control of Soldier: 76 was about to be handed over to the U.S. military.

There was only one thing left to do.

They needed to see him in the field.

A practical test.

Moira had little doubt that he’d pass.

That was why she had decided to bring him into the current operation.

Kilgrave controlled people through his voice.

Soldier: 76’s auditory system, however, was entirely electronic.

And even if Kilgrave’s powers were strong enough to seize control of Jeffrey’s mind, there was still one rather important question.

Could he mind-control the computer inside Jeffrey’s body, too?

"Thank you very much for your cooperation, Ms. Jones."

Moira smiled at Jessica Jones with the polished professionalism of a government official.

"The decision you’ve made today will make this country safer."

She rose from her seat and prepared to leave.

As far as Moira was concerned, Jessica had already provided every useful piece of information she possessed. There was no reason to waste more time here.

"Hold on. Don’t rush off."

Jessica’s voice stopped her.

"I’ve seen Kilgrave recently. I also have a pretty good idea of where he’s been operating. You’re telling me you don’t want to hear that?"

Moira paused.

She turned and looked at Jessica for a long moment.

Perhaps she’d been a little too eager to leave.

Until recently, Moira had been a scientist. She had spent the past several months learning about law enforcement, intelligence work, and everything else she’d need for her new role, but this was still her first real investigation.

Mistakes were bound to happen.

"Please, go on, Ms. Jones."

Moira sat back down.

"You’ve been extremely helpful today. On behalf of the United States government, I offer my sincere thanks."

Jessica merely gave her a sly smile.

"That’s it? Just thanks?"

Moira’s eyes shifted slightly as she understood.

"You want to make a deal?"

She nodded.

"A judicial deal, Ms. Jones?"

Plea agreements were nothing unusual in the American justice system. Prosecutors and law enforcement routinely negotiated with suspects and witnesses in exchange for cooperation or a guilty plea. Such agreements could go far beyond a vague promise to put in a good word with a judge. They could be formal, written arrangements entered into the record.

Whether that system was good or bad was complicated.

There were, after all, cases where someone facing a potential life sentence for first-degree murder had walked free after serving only ten years because of a deal.

"Let’s see..."

Moira thought it over before offering what she considered a reasonable proposal.

"You’re not a normal human being. The Black Badge Division therefore has full jurisdiction over you. When I leave here, I can remove your criminal records from the police database."

She paused.

"But I do have a tendency to misplace things."

A faint smile touched her lips.

"It’s entirely possible that those files might accidentally end up in a shredder."

Moira’s meaning was obvious.

She was offering to wipe Jessica Jones’s record clean.

Jessica rolled her eyes.

"How long does the part where you ’lose’ my records take? Two hours?"

"That depends."

Moira considered the enormous stack of files Jessica had accumulated.

"Depends on how powerful my shredder is."

At this rate, feeding all that paper through one would take forever.

Burning it would probably be faster.

"Sounds like an incredible waste of time."

Jessica shook her head.

"Why don’t you offer me something else? Tell me what you’re planning to do with Kilgrave once you catch him."

Moira frowned slightly.

She thought about it.

There didn’t seem to be any harm in telling Jessica.

"I told you we’d deal with him."

Her expression hardened.

"I meant exactly that."

"That’s all?"

Jessica knew precisely what those words meant.

They meant Kilgrave would disappear.

Quietly.

"Of course, it depends on how much resistance he puts up."

Moira’s voice remained matter-of-fact.

"In the ideal situation, I’d bring him back, strap him to my operating table, and dissect him alive."

Jessica went still.

"If you can promise you won’t kill him with the first cut, I might even let you make the first incision."

Moira had assumed Jessica’s hesitation came from something else.

Her hatred for Kilgrave.

Her desire for revenge.

The thought of an alive, helpless Kilgrave finally in her hands.

Instead, Jessica felt a cold shiver run down her spine.

Live dissection?

And she wanted Jessica to make the first cut?

Was that supposed to end with Jessica receiving the same treatment?

"You aren’t going to put him on trial?"

Jessica forced the unease out of her voice.

"You’re not going to officially charge him? You’re not even going to acknowledge that he ever existed, are you?"

"You don’t strike me as someone particularly concerned with procedural justice, Ms. Jones."

Moira was beginning to lose patience.

Jessica’s sudden insistence on a public trial was a problem. That was not something Moira could promise.

"You were involved in a murder attempt a few days ago, weren’t you?"

Jessica’s expression changed.

"You didn’t report it to the police. That doesn’t mean I don’t know about it."

"I was the victim."

Jessica immediately defended herself.

She suspected Moira was trying to use the incident to threaten her.

"I know."

Moira nodded.

"The couple who tried to kill you had never met you before. There was no personal history between you. Their motive was simply that you were a superhuman."

Their relatives had died during the recent battle in New York, crushed beneath a building brought down by either the Avengers or the aliens invading the city.

It had been a genuine tragedy.

What was strange was whom they blamed.

Apparently, they hated the Avengers even more than they hated the aliens.

You saved me, but you couldn’t save my family, so I hate you.

You saved my life, but not my property, so I hate you.

You damaged my property while fighting, so now I hate you even more.

It was a peculiar kind of logic.

But the strangest part was that they hadn’t dared go after the Avengers themselves.

Instead, they targeted Jessica Jones, a woman with absolutely nothing to do with the destruction that had killed their family.

Why?

Because the Avengers had superpowers.

Jessica had superpowers too.

Therefore, killing Jessica was somehow justified.

It was revenge.

It was righteous.

It was apparently supposed to make society better.

"This time, it was a pair of lunatics with handguns who set a trap for you."

Moira gave a cold laugh.

"You were more than capable of dealing with them."

Her expression hardened.

"But imagine what happens after Kilgrave’s existence becomes public."

"They may not come after you with handguns next time."

"They might come with machine guns."

"Extremist vigilantes. People driven into a frenzy by fear."

Moira leaned forward.

"You have no idea what people will do once they learn that mind control is real."

Jessica fell silent.

For a long time, she said nothing.

She seemed to be wrestling with the implications of what Moira had said.

Or perhaps she was simply trying to fully understand them.

But eventually, she looked up.

"If you don’t make it public, what happens to Hope?"

"Hope?"

Moira’s eyes narrowed as recognition clicked into place.

"The little girl Kilgrave controlled into murdering her own parents? The one convicted of first-degree murder and sentenced to life?"

"That’s her."

Jessica nodded firmly.

"She’s already suffered the greatest tragedy of her life. What happened to her was Kilgrave’s unforgivable crime."

She lifted her head and met Moira’s eyes.

"You know, I don’t just want Kilgrave to receive the punishment he deserves."

Her voice was steady.

"I don’t just want to make sure he can never hurt anyone again."

"I want the damage he’s already caused to be acknowledged and addressed."

Her expression hardened with determination.

"Only by capturing him and proving that he exists, proving that his powers are real, can Hope ever be cleared."