The classic stone facade of the New York Stock Exchange on Broad Street had been transformed into an impenetrable military outpost.
Heavy titanium barricades barred every marble archway. Concrete anti-vehicle blocks choked the narrow, rain-slicked intersections of Wall Street, illuminated by the harsh, rotating searchlights of armored S.H.I.E.L.D. troop carriers. High above, three automated Mark XLIV defense turrets hummed softly in the cold downpour, their targeting sensors sweeping the cobblestone streets.
Inside the converted command tent parked directly opposite the Exchange, Captain America stood over a digital map of the financial district's subterranean infrastructure.
"Every server line running into the clearing house has been isolated," Steve said, his voice grave as he traced the highlighted red conduits on the screen. "We've rerouted the fiber-optic trunks through air-gapped military relays. If Jack tries to tap the financial grid wirelessly like he did at Avengers Tower, he's going to hit a brick wall."
Tony Stark leaned against a stack of tactical crates, his Nanotech Gauntlet glowing with a low, steady amber light. His face was pale, dark circles beneath his eyes from three straight days without sleep, but his expression was razor-sharp.
"He's not going to tap it wirelessly, Steve," Tony said, taking a bitter sip of black coffee. "Jack doesn't just want the money—he wants the show. He wants to stand on top of the podium, ring the opening bell, and erase half a trillion dollars while laughing into a camera. He needs physical access to the main mainframe terminal in Vault Zero, fifty feet beneath the trading floor."
"And that's where we take him," Steve replied, tightening the strap of his shield. "We've got two hundred S.H.I.E.L.D. tactical agents locked down in the subterranean corridors. The moment he steps onto Broad Street, the entire perimeter collapses inward. No ziplines, no smoke bombs, no escape routes."
Tony set his cup down, looking out through the rain-streaked tent flap at the massive iron doors of the Stock Exchange.
"FRIDAY," Tony commanded softly. "Initiate local EMP containment grid surrounding the three-block radius. The second Jack or his team trigger an electronic anomaly, fry every unshielded circuit within five hundred yards."
"Grid active, Boss," FRIDAY’s voice hummed in his earpiece. "Trapping protocol ready."
Five blocks away, atop a darkened water tower overlooking the fortified perimeter, three shadows blended seamlessly into the pouring rain.
Jack lowered a pair of stolen military night-vision binoculars, a slow, terrifying raspy chuckle bubbling up from his throat. The black makeup around his eyes was freshly applied, contrasting sharply with his white face and the brilliant crimson of his lip-balm scar.
"Oh, look at that, girls!" Jack purred, his bloodshot eyes sparkling with pure, manic joy. "Anthony and Cap built us a fortress! Look at those cute little barricades! Look at the big shiny turrets!"
Beside him, Natasha adjusted the zoom on her high-powered sniper scope, her steel-grey eyes calmly scanning the positions of the S.H.I.E.L.D. marksmen on the surrounding rooftops.
"The perimeter is air-tight," Natasha transmitted smoothly through [The Royal Flush Command], her voice echoing directly inside Jack and Felicia's minds. "They're expecting a frontal assault or a subterranean breach through the utility tunnels."
"Which means Vault Zero is a death trap," Felicia added through the link, a dangerous, cat-like smirk on her lips as she leaned against the iron railing. "If we step into that EMP zone, our high-tech gear goes dark instantly."
Jack turned to both of them, his royal-purple coat flapping violently in the storm wind as [50.0% SYNCHRONIZATION] hummed like electric fire through his veins.
"They prepped for a heist, my darlings..." Jack rasped, tossing a pair of heavy brass theatrical keys into the air and catching them cleanly. "They prepped for a robbery! But we aren't here to steal the money... WE'RE HERE TO SET THE WHOLE DARN SYSTEM ON FIRE! HAHAHAHA!"
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