Chapter Thirty-Two: Arming and Forming the Team

Kyle estimated that Carter and the others were nearly finished with their dinner, so he and Howard left the underground ballroom bar.

"Kyle, after closing such a big deal tonight, it's only fair that you pick up the tab," Howard teased. After their brief negotiation, the two had begun to establish a partnership, growing closer and more familiar.

"Sure," Kyle replied with a smile, blinking mischievously. "But you know I'm still broke, and my officer's salary hasn't been paid yet. I wonder if the big boss could advance next month's Stark Industries dividend for me?"

"You really are—" Howard shook his head, speechless, feeling as if he’d dug a hole only to bury himself in it. Nevertheless, he pulled out a golden, finely-crafted card and a certified check from his wallet, handing them to Kyle.

"This card is a permanent VIP card for the Charming Hotel. There's a $20,000 deposit on it; use it as you like. And here's a check for $100,000—you can cash it at any major city bank, though you'd better make an appointment first, or they won't have that much cash on hand."

To put it in perspective, an average American soldier's monthly wage was only about $60 at the time. To casually toss out $120,000 was truly a fortune.

Kyle accepted it without ceremony, joking, "I never imagined the monthly dividend would be so generous. Thank you, boss."

"Skip the thanks," Howard urged. "Just get the second investment item to me soon. I'll have my lawyer draft the share transfer agreement; once you sign, you'll be a partner at Stark Industries."

"No problem," Kyle nodded. The second item wasn't something he carried on him, just not convenient to retrieve in public.

And what was this second investment item? In fact, it was the system program chip for a supercomputer.

It was the green item card Kyle had drawn, even less practical than a phone—a single component, scattered and incomplete. Yet if one wished to venture into artificial intelligence, it was the perfect starting point.

Kyle and Howard had just returned to the hotel lobby when they saw Carter approaching, looking anxious.

"Finished dinner? Where's Steve?" Kyle asked, surprised.

Instead, Carter shot him a glare. "Where did you two disappear to? I sent Steve to look for you, but he couldn't find you anywhere."

"Well..." Kyle started, but Howard interrupted, laughing. "Don't ask. Men have their own ways to relax."

That answer was bound to be misunderstood.

Kyle silently grumbled, but Carter didn't dwell on it, instead speaking seriously. "General Chester has sent instructions. I'm to relay them to you. Let's head back to the training base."

"We barely had a chance to unwind, and now it's back to work," Howard sighed, rubbing his forehead.

"It's about the intelligence map, isn't it?" Kyle mused, his expression thoughtful. He had anticipated that, once the map was reported, orders would follow—but he hadn’t expected a decision so soon.

"Kyle!" Steve’s voice called from behind, just returning at that moment.

"Everyone's here. Let's settle up and head out," Kyle said, smiling as he handed the VIP card from his pocket to the hotel staff. "All our expenses tonight are covered by this."

With money in hand, he felt a new sense of confidence.

"Kyle, I didn’t expect you to be so well-off," Steve remarked in surprise, knowing without looking that this hotel’s prices were beyond most people's reach.

Carter was even more astonished; she’d seen Kyle's personal file herself—where had he gotten the hotel VIP card?

What exactly had those two been up to just now?

She eyed Kyle and Howard suspiciously, unable to make sense of it.

That day, they flew out to the city for dinner, then returned to the training base.

On the plane, Carter explained General Chester’s orders to the three men.

"Kyle and Steve, you two will lead the team. Select soldiers at the training base and form an armed unit. One by one, you are to attack six German factory bases in the war zone. Once those supply factories fall, Germany will no longer threaten Europe!"

"Steve, from now on, you’re promoted to the rank of corporal," Carter continued, her gaze settling on Kyle. "As for you, your combat achievements will continue to accumulate, but there’s no further promotion this time."

"Doesn't matter," Kyle replied, nodding. His lieutenant's credentials hadn't even had time to warm up; he was accustomed to earning honors and jumping ranks in bursts, a rhythm he both liked and enjoyed.

Carter went on, sternly, "Stark, your job is to provide scientific strategic support for the two super soldiers."

"Oh," Howard said, piloting the plane. He responded absentmindedly, then suddenly realized something and turned in shock. "Two super soldiers?!"

"That's right. Kyle has become a super soldier too," Steve answered; he had specifically reported this information after the battle.

Carter fixed her gaze on Kyle, speaking earnestly. "From now on, I’ll be supervising and documenting you, collecting data on super soldiers."

"Okay," Kyle replied listlessly, muttering under his breath, "At least I'm a lieutenant, but now I'm being supervised by a woman? Don’t I have any dignity? With Steve as your test subject, isn’t that enough for your research?"

Carter pretended not to hear, maintaining her cool elegance.

Steve immediately suggested, "If we need personnel for the team, let's recruit the soldiers we rescued last night. They've fought on the front lines for a long time and have experience using new energy weapons against the Germans."

"Agreed. They were prisoners and must still be itching for action, not having fully vented their frustration last night. But on top of that, I want to transfer one more talent from the 102nd Regiment," Kyle said thoughtfully.

"Who?" Carter asked. She had the authority to redeploy a single frontline soldier.

"His name is Nick Fury—a sergeant with exceptional intellect and leadership skills," Kyle replied with a smile.

This was a prime opportunity to rack up military achievements, and Kyle was giving Fury a real leg up.

"Achoo!"

In a temporary tent on the front lines, a black sergeant with a single eye sneezed. He rubbed his bald head in puzzlement.

"The weather isn’t cold; why do I have such a bad feeling?"

Fury muttered to himself. Though there were no major battles left on his front, he couldn’t shake a chill running down his spine.