Marvel Magic Case Files

Chapter 1313, Section 1309: Colonel Zemo, the Diplomat (First Update! Requesting Votes and Subscriptions!)

General Hale was unaware of the Emperor's extensive preparations for the Asgardian legacy; it was enough for her to know that his influence had reached Asgard. Other details were relatively insignificant. For instance, during the Latvian Regent's trip to Wakanda, he not only reached a private agreement with Queen Mother Ramonda on vibranium security and the development of Wakanda's neighboring countries—referring to the military aid and training courses—but also formally appointed a Latvian diplomat to Wakanda. Victor von Doom did not break his promise to the Emperor, finding the diplomat a secluded place. On the day the Emperor arrived in Washington, Colonel Helmut Zemo, former commander of the Sokovian Special Forces EKO Scorpion, arrived in Wakanda's capital, Golden City, with his wife aboard a Nullifier fighter jet.

Although it is a diplomat's job, the actual work is extremely leisurely.

Colonel Helmut Zemo and his wife not only didn't need to do espionage work, but they were also warmly received by the Wakanda royal family. The Wakanda nobles knew who had withstood international pressure for vibranium and were increasingly dissatisfied with the indecisive King T'Challa. Even if they grew tired of the city, they could drive around the prairie. Their only job was to clock in at the diplomatic embassy every day. Although Colonel Helmut Zemo had reservations about this job—he didn't believe anyone would keep their promise to let someone doing dirty work go—that didn't mean he wasn't grateful for Latvinia's help.

The prosthetic technology and equipment his wife underwent were extremely expensive. Her jaw and spine were replaced with prosthetics, and her throat, esophagus, lungs, liver, and heart, due to irreversible damage, were replaced with bionic organs that could be used permanently. With the help of sophisticated prosthetic and bionic technologies, his wife not only survived but also regained her pre-injury beauty and health. The dirty work he did to split the Avengers was completely insufficient to cover the cost.

That's why Colonel Helmut Zemo let his wife do as she pleased, enthusiastically selecting furniture for the embassy residence using a data tablet. His wife was so enthusiastic about her diplomatic work that it seemed to help her forget the pain of losing her son in the Battle of Sokovia. Predictably, the final clerical work would fall to her, just as it had during her recovery in the Immortal City. Now, the documents in Colonel Helmut Zemo's hands weren't about a diplomatic mission, but rather a map of the Wakanda royal family's relationships—who was related to whom by blood, who had conflicts of interest, who had private connections, and so on. This made him increasingly feel that his diplomatic work was actually an intelligence mission, but such things were beyond his control. This afternoon, he still had to go to the grasslands with the Wakanda royal family to see lions and giraffes baring their teeth and discuss the arms production line.

The industrial elite needed this production line, and the Wakanda royal family (more precisely, Queen Mother Ramonda) also needed the jobs provided by this production line and its supporting facilities to accommodate refugees from neighboring countries. The task was simple; Colonel Helmut Zemo knew he only needed to nod in agreement. This was the instruction given by Regent Victor von Doom of Latvinia: simply adhere to the terms of the contract without yielding an inch and prevent the Wakandas from gaining any advantage.

“I don’t want to be a silly nodding doll,” Colonel Helmut Zemo complained. His complaint, however, only drew laughter. His wife had already adjusted her voice to her old one, making it impossible to detect any electronic accents even upon close listening. “I thought you were still torn between Baroque and Wakanda’s tech style, darling,” Colonel Zemo shrugged. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

"You know what to do, darling. There are only the two of us in this embassy besides the receptionist." Mrs. Zemo waved the data panel in her hand. "The task of checking the furniture for listening devices is yours. You know this isn't my forte. My plug-in can't detect radio signals outside the communication channel. This is just a civilian device."

"Okay, okay, I just hope there won't be any particularly dangerous missions later. You know, the Latvinians are a bunch of ruthless bastards. If they do something bad and we don't know about it, we might not be able to leave Wakanda unscathed."

“Have more faith, my dear.” Mrs. Zemo took a large, expensive-looking ceramic vase from one of the Sisterhood combatants temporarily dispatched to Wakanda. “Don’t assume everyone is so bad. I’ve seen what they’ve done. Many of those girls were rescued by them from Eastern Europe and the Middle East. I believe Latvinia is doing something great.”

"Great causes must make sacrifices, and I only hope that price isn't us." Colonel Helmut Zemo slumped onto the sofa, closing his eyes in despair. As a Latvian diplomat, he reluctantly donned a suit, but beneath it was a holster containing a laser pistol. "We've finally reunited, and I will not allow anyone to tear us apart again."

"I believe you too." Mrs. Zemo held a vase in one arm and brushed her husband's short brown hair with the other. Nerve pulses, receiving neural signals and chemical neurotransmitters, manipulated the prosthetic implant beneath her skin according to a predetermined program, allowing her to display a smile and downcast eyes. Her hand, once shattered by collapsing concrete and bricks, had been completely replaced with a prosthetic; neural pulse sensors, temperature detectors, and tactile sensors simulated realistic touch and temperature. She softened her tone, as if coaxing a child, "We won't forget the sadness of the past, but we can also enjoy some of the beauty of the present, can't we?"

Colonel Zemo nodded. He didn't open his eyes, but instead grasped his wife's hand, which lacked the softness of human skin, tears welling in his eyes. Warm sunlight streamed in through the large windows typical of Wakanda, casting a blurry, colorful halo on his retinas through his eyelids. "I will protect you," he sniffed, his voice resolute. "I swear."

General Hale left the manor in his own car. Gideon Malik and the Emperor stood together in the driveway, watching the black sedan carrying General Hale and Ruby drive out of the manor gates. The orange-red afterglow of the setting sun blurred their vision, engulfing the car in the distance, but the Emperor could still see General Hale's car rejoin the traffic and finally disappear. "If you continue drinking, alcohol and death will be synonymous for you," he suddenly said. "Don't think blood filters can be used like this; this is just a preliminary rejuvenation procedure."

"I'm just enjoying life. Besides, I've seen that Soviet animation. Don't think I can't remember the lines; you're just imitating the characters," Gideon Malik replied with a laugh. His wrinkles had diminished considerably, a side effect of the rejuvenation surgery rather than a deliberate cosmetic procedure. After the joke, Gideon Malik immediately returned to the main topic, "Are you really planning to give Ruby such an important role? Or rather, are you really taking General Hale's arrangements this seriously?"

"Of course not, Gideon. General Hale has many missions, but certainly not those she knows about." The Emperor shook his head, removing his gold-rimmed glasses as a disguise. "However, if she can train a few ace pilots using the simulation equipment I provided, that would be a bonus. I currently have Void Fighter pilots!"

"How much of what you said was true?" Gideon Malik asked with interest. "Fifty percent?"

"You'll have to ask Stephanie; she knows everything."

I finished writing half a chapter last night, and I couldn't resist posting it.

The next chapter will be later.

By the way, could you please vote for me?

(End of this chapter)