Back in Madripoor, Maxim was sitting behind the holographic console in his command chamber. A pale blue light reflecting off of his face as A.N.G.E.L updates the various floating panels, the ongoing progress sent by the agents all meticulously organized.
Maxim's face was serious as he browsed through the week's worth of information gathered by their covert operations, thinking about what to do going forward.
He tapped the panel highlighting Anya's work, causing it to expand and provide him with the full information.
"Fine work," he muttered as he finished reading it, his gaze sharpening, " A nice opportunity."
He said as he saw the details for Senator Darnell's gala that was being hosted tonight. It would be a pivotal moment in the Senator's ambitions.
The Gala was hosted by him and his allies, and had invited a variety of extremely wealthy and or influential individuals from across America. The goal of the gala was for the Senator to feel out which individuals he could ally with to bring his goals to fruition.
Once he screened them, he would openly signal his biotech ambitions, draw financial pledges and cement the support Ross needs for his own goals.
If Darnell and Ross' influence grew unchecked, the Supersoldier project could escalate dramatically.
Maxim eventually stood up, the Mind Stone faintly glowing as he issued new commands, a flood of information entering his mind.
From the entire layout of the Gala, the guest list, seating arrangements, key speakers, and more. In moments, every single detail was in Maxim's head, and even more valuable information.
Darnell's entrance time, speech schedule, seating order for biotech investors… and Anya's movements as personal assistant. He felt the electric buzz of control settle in his veins.
Maxim immediately hacked into all of it, meticulously placing himself as an attendee of the event with a new identity, he also made sure to infiltrate into the mind's of all of those attending, making sure they weren't confused as to who he was or why he would be there.
With that done, Maxim got up and stepped into the dressing chamber. Within seconds, his tactical gear peeled away like petals, replaced by tailored elegance.
A midnight blue tuxedo with silver laps, a crisp silk shirt, a bespoke tie, and a luxury watch wrapped around his wrist.
Then, he let the Mind Stone alter his face, clean shaven, golden hair now styled lightly back, striking green eyes. He looked every bit the young magnet.
He was now Ivan Volkov, spoiled heir to Russian oil fortune, well known for being a party animal, who is now looking to invest and earn some money for himself to impress his other spoiled rich friends.
He practiced his smile in the mirror, affable, confident, unapologetically suave. A.N.G.E.L confirmed, "Disguise calibrated. Identity secure. Mantis-level socio-economic profile adjusted. Enjoy your evening, sir."
Maxim gave a nod. "Thank you." The console tips on discreet windows that would display live feed from each Widow's location, synchronized to his timeline.
With that, Maxim left, heading to the location of the gala.
***
The ballroom of the Mayfair Hotel in Washington gleamed under crystal chandeliers. Gentle orchestral music filled the air. Waiters circulated with champagne.
Guests in designer gowns and tuxedos clustered around high tables, fragrant with champagne and small-bite hors d'œuvres. Beneath the polite laughter and refined voices, ambition for power was everywhere.
Maxim entered, surveying the crowd with precise calculation. He welcomed the weight of multiple gazes, their recognition of his fabricated status as Russian investment royalty gave him credibility.
He paused, taking in the scene: at the far side, Senator Darnell stood before a small stage, greeting biotech executives. Anya hovered near his side, white-gloved, confident, a model of discreet competence.
Maxim ghosted through the crowd, confident strides, passing acquaintances and nodding.
Maxim moved to the bar, grabbing a drink and sitting at the bar, listening in to the leading investors located in a special VIP section, wardened off by advanced sound cancelling technology.
Thankfully, with the Mind Stone, piercing through that to hear what they were saying was easy.
"Yes, Ross's voice carries weight… I understand Ross is pushing the development of this serum… looking for returns in months…" One of the investors said.
"How much money does he want. I need to be one of the first to get the finished product if I'm spending tens of millions on this shit." Another said.
As Maxim was listening in, Senator Darnell sat next to him, "Mr. Volkov, I'm quite shocked that you've came here, thank you for your presence."
"Please call me Ivan, Mr. Volkov is my father, and I appreciate your thanks Mr. Senator, I heard you were working with Biotechnology and was looking for investment, so I came as I was quite interested."
Darnell nodded, voice steady, "We're investing in breakthrough medical tech. Secretary Ross is guiding the legislative framework. We expect pilot studies by Q3." He clapped his hand's shoulder, "Yes, the world's on the cusp of a quantum leap."
"There'll be a special early display of the technology soon, I'll be sure to invite you Ivan." Darnell said and stood up, clinking glasses and walking off as Maxim smirked to himself.
Anya meanwhile came next to Darnell, guiding him to L-shaped aisles. Maxim watched her skill. Her poise and focus were rock-solid. That calm professionalism in cocktail dress held steady pressure behind senator's outward charm.
Maxim checked A.N.G.E.L's panel, "Anya reports no suspicion. Darnell's speech due in ten minutes. Budget vote imminent."
Time to act.
He moved in. Approached Anya deliberately. "Ms?" he said quietly, voice warm. Anya turned, startled by proximity of a stranger.
"Yes?" she asked, calm yet curious.
He offered a charming nod. "I believe we met, briefly, in Miami last fall? Maxim Volkov. Russian biotech investor." He extended his hand.
"I was captivated by your insight on cellular therapy." Anya registered the campaign. "Mr. Volkov. Yes, at the biotech summit. Congratulations on your work with HealthCrest." She paused.
Her eyes flicked to bazaar of clients "Thank you. I'm sure you've heard my boss speak tonight?" "I have," he said. "He's ambitious. Terrific vision."
He said, touching her forearm gently and sending a message directly to her mind, "You're doing excellent work. Listen, when this finishes, head for exit door five. Black SUV will be waiting at 10:05. Extraction protocol is active. You're cleared."
Anya blinked, but her composure remained intact. "Understood."
Maxim smiled as the music swelled to announce Darnell's speech. His chance. Anya slipped off, returning to Darnell's side. Maxim moved toward the stage.
Darnell climbed onto the small dais. Polite applause rose.
Maxim refrained from influence, content to hear the senator's rhetoric. Words streamed, "invest in innovation," "help veterans," "secure America's future." But beneath it: "It's not just medical. It's defense. We must build capability before others."
Maxim just chuckled to himself. To the untrained ear, this was all in good faith, but he knows this is just warfront talk, fear mongering to gather investment to make themselves stronger and cut off those who aren't apart of their clique.
When the speech ended, applause booming, Maxim held his glass aloft and applauded too, walking back into the flow of guests.
Moments later, Maxim slipped back toward the corner where Anya stood, Darnell still fielding questions.
Maxim approached quietly. "You handled yourself well," he murmured. Anya blinked, lips faintly twitching in relief. "Maxim…" she whispered. "Thank you." "I'll finish things with Darnell tomorrow. Tonight, you rest. Protocol extraction confirmed."
His voice was low but firm. Anya nodded. "Understood."
Her relief was genuine, not fear, but pride. Maxim pressed a card into her hand. "In case you want real coffee."
She gave a tight smile: "I'm going to need it." He nodded, and drifted away.
Later, he slipped out of the gala unnoticed, melding with the crowd. He left the ballroom, moving into a corridor where he paused, touching the Mind Stone lightly. The echoes of whispered conversations reached him, someone puzzling over Darnell, someone unsure of how fast they supported Ross.
Stepping into the night, Maxim vanished into the darkness.
The game had begun in earnest.
***
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