24 Small-time Window.

My team of resident nerds, despite their reservations about being kept in the dark regarding the ultimate purpose of their work, remained dedicated and continued their efforts.

Their commitment and passion for their craft couldn't be hindered by a lack of direction. Plus, with all the benefits and data I provided them, I may as well be their personal weekend Santa.

Meanwhile, I focused on my stuff, ensuring the facilities within the Terminus base were taking shape. From equipment and furniture to securing the necessary hardware for each lab, I was determined to create a self-sustaining base that could operate independently from the outside world.

While I was focused on laying the rugs and hanging the chandeliers, I got a notification beep from Ordis.

"What's up, Ordis?" I asked, expecting his typical banter.

"Nothing much, boss." Just one of the people of interest you got me stalking has been located: Oksana's holdout has been found. She's hiding in one of the manufacturing districts in Casablanca, Morocco. She's quite elusive, but I managed to find her location, especially since she's been cleverly using a hijab to stay concealed. "She's there if you want to make moves on her, boss," Ordis informed me.

"huh? Excellent work, Ordis. I'll take care of it. You hold down the fort here, alright?" I swiftly made my way to the armory, ready to suit up for the mission ahead.

Putting my armor on, I quickly made my way to the location Ordis pinged for me.

Hovering above, it was in an uninteresting place, full of warehouses and factories, which made sense.

I approached the building and used my super hearing and X-ray to get a sense of the situation inside.

The place was boobytrapped to the brim and ready to explode, and there were multiple vehicles ready to depart at any moment—typical spy hideouts.

Silently entering the building through a door that I effortlessly broke through, I navigated my way through the warehouse with utmost care.

Avoiding all the traps and sensors, my phantom-cloaking state rendered me practically invisible to most. I moved with stealth and precision, leaving no trace of my presence.

As I ventured deeper into the warehouse, my eyes landed on Oksana. She was hunched over a workstation, deeply engrossed in her research. Surrounding her were an assortment of scientific instruments and a variety of animals—pigs, among others—indicating that she's doing some serious scientific research here, but I can guess what.

As I walked into the room, I carefully surveyed my surroundings, taking in every detail. Spotting Oksana.

I decided to make my presence known and say hello to the renegade spy.

"Oh, hello there," I greeted her with a comically exaggerated British accent, intending to catch her off guard.

Instantly, she went into battle mode, pointing her gun directly at me. However, upon closer inspection, she seemed to recognize me, causing her defensive stance to replace her offensive one.

She stood there, with her short hair and rough Asian beauty, and lean, muscular build, and piercing eyes, she exuded an aura of danger and power. To anyone else, she would spell trouble and a bad day, but to me, she didn't evoke much concern.

"Who are you? "What do you want?" she questioned, circling me cautiously, clearly contemplating her escape options.

With a nonchalant demeanor, I responded, "Hi, I am not here to fight or anything; come on, put the gun down; I am just here to talk."

I gave her my back while she still kept a wary eye on me. I made my way to a cage containing a pig and playfully extended my hand inside to interact with the animal.

"You're him, the Sentinel. What do you want? Who sent you?" She pressed further.

Chuckling, I replied, "Why do people always assume I work for someone? Do I look like someone who commutes to work?"

Continuing to inquire about my purpose, she asked, "Why are you here?"

"I'm here to help, but you know how the world works. It's not all about charity. So how about mutual benefit? I could even throw in a dental plan. Quite a good deal, I'd say," I responded, casually observing the makeshift lab as she continued to circle me.

"But first, let's establish some ground rules, right?" I turned to face her, my expression hidden behind my blank mask.

"Are you with them?" she questioned, alluding to a particular group that I am curious about too.

"No, I'm not with anyone. But I assume you mean the Illuminati, whoever they are, right?" I probed, hoping to glean more information about this mysterious organization.

"Hmm, so if you're independent, what do you want, and what can you offer me?" She inquired, approaching a rack covered by a tarp. Despite giving her my back, I could hear her movements clearly.

Then she took out what I could describe as a super advanced gun, but before she could aim it, I was on her face with a speed that made most of the stuff in the lab fly from the mild shock wave I made.

"Nuh uhh," I said while holding the gun with one hand down and having my finger in her face like I was scolding a baby.

"That's just a rude way to greet guests, Oksana," I remarked, taking the gun from her hand and examining it closely. Its advanced technology intrigued me, surpassing even Tony Stark's creations.

"Who made this? It's quite the technology," I remarked casually, playfully aiming the gun, its slug thrower but super advanced with a mixer inside, It reminded me of the Lawgiver weapon from the Judge Dredd comics.

All the while Oksana stood close to me, appearing small in contrast to my size.

I looked down at her, then walked away from her as I returned her gun, I sighed audibly in a happy way, attempting to dissipate some tension. "Let's lay our cards on the table, shall we?" I suggested, adopting a business-like attitude.

With curiosity shining in her eyes, she asked, "Can you tell me exactly what you want?"

"You keep asking that, but you didn't let me, but I say let's save what I want for later. How about we start with the payment?" I replied, gesturing with my hands since my face remained hidden.

"I know what you're working on here. You're trying to create a counteragent to the chemical subjugation of the Red Room, right?" I questioned her, revealing my knowledge of her research.

Surprised and slightly suspicious, she replied, "How did you know? Are you sure you're not with the Illuminati? You guys always mess with me."

"You're making me genuinely intrigued about these Illuminati folks. Who are they?" I inquired, tilting my head curiously.

"It doesn't matter. And yes, I've been trying to recreate it for years now. I'm close. How can you help?" She asked with a hopeful tone.

"To be honest, solving this won't be a struggle for me. But what I'll struggle with is you," I confessed, walking toward her again. She immediately assumed a defensive posture, her finger hovering near the trigger.

"You know what I can do, just like everyone else," I said, pointing to a TV broadcasting news about me.

"I can slay the Leviathan and all your boogeymen. I can free all the girls," I proposed.

She remained skeptical and questioned, "And what's the catch?"

"The catch is that you stop hiding here like some plagued rat. Get out there, help the world, and, of course, help me. I offer a new way, and I know from your experience that good things don't fall from the sky. You'll have to work for them. Not only that, but you'll also need to earn my trust," I enticed her, teasing her with the prospect of a new life.

"So, a slave changing masters?" she retorted, her tone filled with disdain.

"Not at all. But there's no way to convince you that working with me will be a better option. So, why not let me show you first? After all, actions speak louder than words," I suggested, knowing that she wouldn't be swayed by grand speeches.

"Can you really do that?" she inquired, now adopting a calm posture and pouring herself a drink.

"Oh, I can do more than that. Here's my deal: I kill Dreykov, free the girls, get them to their new home, bring down the Red Room, and, as a bonus, take down all the Leviathans. What do you say?" I proposed, laying out the terms of our potential partnership.

"How can I trust you? I don't even know who you are," she expressed her concerns.

"Nobody does," I replied with a chuckle. "And trust? Trust is for dogs and children. What I'm offering you is an exchange of benefits. You seem to work well with others since you run errands for these Illuminati folks," I added, still amused.

"Moreover, I know you're a good person. Why else would you be slaving away here to save the girls? Why would you care if you weren't a good person? Not everything needs to have a price tag. Just like you're working your ass off to free the girls, I simply want to make the world a better place—one burnt bad guy at a time," I explained.

She looked at me, deeply contemplating my words, and then she asked with a slightly triumphant tone, "The Red Room. No one knows where it is anymore. Most girls are sedated before they go in or come out."

"Yes, I know. I already know the location of the Red Room Academy. But now, give me a sample of your work, and I will create the counteragent for you. then I'll reach out to you, and together, we can slowly build a truly beneficial partnership," I proposed, my demeanor shifting to a more presenting stance. Despite knowing my appearance might not inspire trust, I still tried to convey my intentions.

She struck a pose, leaning on one foot and holding her drink in one hand, while her other hand still clutched the gun.

"Well, well, your terms ain't half bad. I mean, if you really wanted me six feet under, I'd be there already. But saving those girls is worth dancing with the devil," she said, jabbing a finger in my direction.

"That's why I stuck around with those nutty Illuminati types for so long. They helped me out with my research and threw me some juicy covert gigs and equip me. And hey, if your proposal gets them off my back, sign me up!" She let out an exasperated sigh, clearly fed up with those Illuminati folks.

"Seriously though, who the heck are these Illuminati? I couldn't dig up anything on them. Can you throw me a bone or something?" I asked, fully aware that I was probably fishing for nothing.

"I have no clue, really. They come at me out of the blue, preaching their gospel. And the weird part is, it's never the same person twice. I try to track down the folks who approach me, and they're just regular Joes with no recollection of ever meeting me. So, I threw in the towel," she replied, letting out a tired sigh.

But now I am more intrigued by this Illuminati, they are not something I remember in the MCU, which means they're a wild card. But the only Illuminati I remember from Marvel is one hell of an interesting crew. So, I'll dig deeper, and maybe Oksana here can be my golden ticket to sniff 'em out.

She strolled over to her cluttered workbench, grabbed a flash drive, plugged it into her work terminal, copied some files onto it, handed it to me, and added three vials filled with ominous-looking red liquid.

"Here you go, Mr. Hotshot Sentinel. There is my work data and the chemicals the red room uses; show me what you're about," she said, rolling her eyes, clearly skeptical of my abilities.

"Alright, we are in business," I exclaimed, snatching the vials and flash drive from her.

I then turned and left, activating my cloak, but before I could make it any farther, I heard a loud explosion.

Well, well, it seemed like she had hightailed it out of her lab, but I put some nerve jammers on her, which also serve as trackers, so she will never dip on me.

Oh, absolutely! Piece of cake, right? it seems like everything will work out exactly as I wanted.