Marvel: A.T.L.A.S. - Ghost Protocol

Queens, New York - June 1987

The storage unit's fluorescent lights cast harsh shadows across Howard's face. His hand still hovered near the concealed weapon, but his eyes were fixed on the glowing object on the workbench.

"You know why A.T.L.A.S. was watching Bangkok?" Howard's voice was steady despite the alcohol. "Those formulas they found weren't new research. They were old. Very old."

Caspian remained perfectly still, Emperor Eye tracking every minute detail. The slight tremor in Howard's left hand. The faint smell of ozone from whatever lay on the workbench. The way the older man's weight was shifted, ready for sudden movement.

"Project Rebirth wasn't the first attempt," Howard continued. "Wasn't even the tenth. The SSR found records going back decades. Someone was always trying to create something... better than human."

"The facilities in Eastern Europe."

"Holdovers. Old Soviet research sites we thought were abandoned." A bitter laugh. "Stupid. Nothing that valuable ever stays abandoned. Someone always comes looking."

The Emperor Eye caught Howard's pulse jumping in his neck. Whatever he was building toward, it was costing him to say it.

"And now they're looking again," Caspian said quietly.

"Looking? They've already found it." Howard's hand finally moved away from the weapon, reached instead for a file folder. "Three weeks ago, one of my old contacts reached out. Said he had information about unauthorized research. About... improvements on the original formula."

He slid the folder across the workbench. Caspian opened it, Emperor Eye cataloging every detail. The documents inside were old, the paper yellowing. Chemical formulas. Research notes. And photographs that made even his trained composure slip for a moment.

"Jesus," he breathed.

"That's from 1940. Before Erskine, before everything. They were already trying. Already failing." Howard's voice cracked. "And now someone has those records. All of them. Everything we tried to bury."

"The weapons shipments?"

"Bait. Trying to track the buyers, find out how deep this goes." Howard ran a hand through his hair. "But they're always one step ahead. Almost like..."

"Like they knew you were looking?"

"Like they've been watching for years. Waiting." He gestured to the glowing object. "This? Latest prototype. Supposed to track quantum signature variations. Signs of enhancement formulas being tested. But every time I get close..."

"Bodies start dropping," Caspian finished.

"Your mother's good. A.T.L.A.S. is good. But this?" Howard's laugh held an edge of hysteria. "This is old blood. Old sins coming back to collect."

The Emperor Eye caught movement outside the storage unit. Multiple heat signatures moving into position.

"Howard." Caspian's voice was very quiet. "How many people knew you'd be here tonight?"

The older man's eyes widened slightly. "Only my contact. Unless..."

"Unless your contact isn't the only one watching." Caspian's hand moved to his concealed weapon. "Three on the west side. Two more approaching from the east. Professional stance."

"Shit." Howard grabbed the prototype and a stack of files. "Back exit's through—"

The first explosion took out the front of the storage unit. The second collapsed part of the ceiling. Caspian's Emperor Eye tracked the attackers through the smoke and debris, marking positions and weapons.

"Move!" He shoved Howard toward the back as gunfire erupted through the chaos. The Emperor Eye predicted trajectories, found the gaps between bullets.

Two attackers breached through the smoke. Caspian's first shot took one in the throat. The second managed to fire twice before a thrown knife found his eye.

"Howard!" Caspian called out. "Status!"

"Clear!" The response came from behind a storage container. "But they're—"

More gunfire cut him off. These weren't random shots—the attackers were herding them, forcing them toward the center of the facility.

"Your extraction plan?" Caspian asked, dropping another attacker with a precise headshot.

"Thought I'd wing it." Howard's attempt at humor was strained. "You?"

"Working on it." The Emperor Eye mapped the facility's layout, calculating odds. "Can that prototype be destroyed?"

"Yes, but—"

"Do it. Now."

The next few minutes were a symphony of violence. Caspian moved through the shadows like liquid death, each strike precise and fatal. The Emperor Eye let him see every attack before it came, turn every attempted ambush into a kill zone.

When it was over, eight bodies cooled on the concrete floor. Howard stood among the carnage, prototype destroyed, files burning.

"Well," he said shakily. "That's one way to handle it."

"Those men were ex-military. Special forces training." Caspian examined one of the bodies. "This isn't just about old research anymore."

"No." Howard's voice was tired. "It never really was." He looked at the burning files. "Carrie needs to know... there are things I never told her. Things about what we really found back then."

"Tell her yourself. My car's—"

The third explosion caught them both by surprise.