Marvel: The Enlightened One#27+28: On His Way to a Heist, Hawk Gets Robbed—Photograph of Hawk and...

Vroooom!

2:30 PM.

The flight from New York touched down, taxiing smoothly to a stop at Ronald Reagan Washington National Airport in Washington, D.C.

Half an hour later.

Traveling light, Hawk walked out of the airport, went straight to the taxi stand, and got into the back of the first cab in line. He gave the address of a motel in Quantico Town to the young driver.

The driver nodded, started the meter, and pulled away from the curb.

Just because the FBI Academy was in Quantico didn't mean the area was off-limits to civilians.

You just couldn't waltz onto the military-controlled parts.

Quantico Town itself, the area surrounding the base, was open to the public.

Any disciplined man is a person of action, and Hawk was a man who had thrown ten thousand punches a day for a thousand straight days.

His ability to act was second to none.

The moment he'd left the Oscorp building that morning, he had gone straight to the airport and bought a ticket for the next flight to D.C.

He hadn't even gone home to pack a change of clothes.

Fortunately, he had spent all of last night studying the satellite maps of Quantico, roughing out a plan for how he was going to get his Gammanium.

Otherwise, he'd be stumbling around completely lost.

...

"Plan A."

"Get in quiet, get out quiet."

"But if I'm spotted, switch to Plan B immediately."

"Overwhelming force. No survivors!"

Sitting in the back of the taxi, Hawk silently reviewed his plan, then turned his gaze to the scenery passing by outside the window.

And then...

Without changing his expression, his eyes flickered to the young driver in the front seat. He casually pulled his phone from his pocket, the one he'd forgotten to turn back on after the flight.

The phone booted up.

A series of dings announced a flood of incoming text messages.

Hawk's eyebrow twitched. Just as he was about to unlock the screen to see what spam his carrier had sent him this time, a low voice, accompanied by the black, unblinking eye of a gun barrel, filled the car.

"DON'T MOVE. GIVE ME THE PHONE."

"..."

Hawk froze.

Who am I?

Where am I?

What am I doing?

No, seriously.

I'm on my way to rob a military base, and I'm getting robbed the second I land?

Damn it.

This is the nation's capital. Is the crime rate really worse than New York's?

In an instant, Hawk's opinion of Washington, D.C. plummeted.

The young driver, watching him in the rearview mirror, saw that he was frozen. He growled, waggling the gun. "I said, don't move. Hand over the phone."

Hawk snapped out of it.

"Do you want me to not move, or do you want me to give you the phone?"

"..."

The driver fell silent for a moment, processing the question.

The next second, he seemed to snap.

"Motherfucker, don't get smart with me, give me the f—"

Ring, ring!

Just as the driver was losing his cool, Hawk's phone began to ring.

It was Gwen.

Hawk answered the call and put the phone to his ear.

"Hello?"

"..."

The young driver broke.

He watched in the rearview mirror as this kid, completely ignoring the gun pointed at his head, not even bothering to pretend to be scared, just casually answered his phone. He had a full-blown meltdown.

The next second, he slammed on the brakes. The taxi screeched to a halt. He twisted in his seat, lunging for the back.

"Motherfucker, I'll f—"

"Thump!"

"Aaargh!"

"..."

On the other end of the line, Gwen, who had just been about to speak, heard what sounded like a pained scream.

"Was that someone screaming, Hawk?"

"...Yeah. Some guy walking by was watching a movie on his phone. Probably some violent action flick."

"Sounds like it. That scream sounded exactly like someone getting their ribs broken."

"Uh..."

Hawk, who was now leaning over the front seat, one hand clamped over the driver's mouth, looked down at the exact spot on the man's ribs he had just struck. "You can tell where someone's injured just from the sound of their scream?"

A laugh came from the other end of the line.

"Of course. My dad's a police captain. And between you and me, I'm probably more qualified than most of the rookies at his precinct."

"...I can see that."

Hawk was speechless.

What could he even say? A genius is a genius. They learn everything faster and better than anyone else.

Just then, Gwen's laugh became bright and clear.

"I'm kidding. Of course I can't."

"...Right. You had me for a second."

"So, why was your phone off? I've been trying to call you."

"What's up?"

Hawk maintained his position, one hand silencing the driver, the other holding the phone to his ear.

"Come downstairs."

"What?"

"Dr. Connors found out you were fired and that you were the scapegoat. He felt bad, so he prepared a little something for you. But I couldn't reach you, so I just came over. Are you not home?"

Gwen, who had just parked her yellow Corolla in front of Hawk's new apartment building, tapped an envelope sitting on the passenger seat and peered up at his window.

Hearing that Gwen was right outside his apartment, Hawk went silent for a second, then it clicked.

"Right, I'm not home. Can you just hold on to it for me? You can give it to me when school starts."

"I'm already out of the car."

Gwen closed her car door and started walking toward the building. "You're on the top floor, facing the street, right? Your window's open. I'll just take the fire escape and leave it inside for you."

Hawk was stunned.

He wasn't surprised that Gwen knew where he lived. She had probably seen his address on his employment forms.

But...

"How do you know that?"

"I saw your shorts hanging in the window."

"Uh..."

"You've had those for three years. And if I remember correctly, they used to be pants, right? You cut them into shorts back in tenth grade."

"Anyway, I'm just going to drop this off. I've gotta get going."

"..."

<><><><><><><><>

Hawk listened to the dial tone for a moment, then pocketed his phone.

The next second, his mind was racing.

He wasn't worried about Gwen being in his apartment. He was worried about what she might find. He quickly ran a mental checklist of anything embarrassing or incriminating.

Embarrassing?

Nope.

He didn't own any posters, let alone magazines or videos.

He was too broke.

In his younger years, when he had too much energy, he would just go up to the roof and punch the air until he was too exhausted to think, then go back inside and sleep.

Incriminating?

He didn't think so.

The five Chitauri weapons were wrapped tightly in a bedsheet and shoved all the way under his bed.

She probably wouldn't find them.

So—

Whatever. Let her.

Time to deal with the problem at hand.

With that thought, Hawk's focus returned to the present. The warmth in his eyes from his conversation with Gwen vanished, replaced by a chillingly cold indifference.

The young driver, his mouth still covered, stared at Hawk with wide, terrified eyes.

Hawk savored the fear in the man's gaze. A slow, handsome smile spread across his face.

"Now..."

"It's my turn to rob you."

"..."

...

After hanging up, Gwen put her phone away and walked over to the fire escape on the side of Hawk's building. She climbed effortlessly to the top floor.

She pushed aside the pair of shorts that had been hanging in the half-open window—shorts that, on closer inspection, looked like they had once been a pair of sweatpants—and slipped inside.

She looked around.

The living room was small. A secondhand sofa and a folding table with a laptop on it took up two-thirds of the space.

But it was clean.

Not spotless, but neat and orderly.

Gwen's first impression of the place was that it was... comfortable.

She had never been to Hawk's old apartment, and this was the first time she'd seen his new one.

But as she pulled Dr. Connors' envelope from her pocket and set it on the folding table, her gaze was drawn to the closed laptop.

It wasn't that she was surprised he owned a computer.

It was...

The stickers on the lid.

"Are these..."

"Unicorns?"

Gwen couldn't help but laugh, looking at the cutesy, girly stickers plastered all over the laptop. She wondered which of his female friends had sold him the computer.

It never even crossed her mind that Hawk might have put the stickers on himself, or that a girl might have given him the laptop as a gift.

Impossible.

Absolutely impossible.

No one knew Hawk better than she did.

She had no doubt that if she had tried to talk to him after giving him the phone, he would have just handed it right back to her.

That was why she had deliberately avoided him for the past few weeks.

With that thought, Gwen's eyes returned to the envelope on the table. She turned to leave.

But as she turned, the sleeve of her open jacket caught the air, creating a small gust of wind that lifted the envelope from the table.

It fluttered through the air and drifted into the adjacent bedroom.

Gwen sighed and walked into the room. She bent down to pick up the envelope, which had landed just short of the bed. As she stood up, a faint, greenish light pulsing from under the bed caught her eye.

She froze.

Her eyes darted to the space under the bed.

She could just make out the shape of a large, tightly wrapped bundle.

The bedsheet it was wrapped in was clearly cheap.

It wasn't opaque.

A faint, greenish light was pulsing from within, like a slow, rhythmic breath.

The light was dim.

Even in the daylight, she wouldn't have noticed it if she hadn't caught it out of the corner of her eye.

What is that?

Gwen crouched down, peering under the bed, her brow furrowed in curiosity.

Just as she was about to stand back up, her gaze shifted. She saw a cracked picture frame on the nightstand.

Inside the frame was a photograph.

The background was Times Square. The subjects were a boy and a girl, both looking to be about fourteen years old, their clothes slightly faded and worn.

The boy, Gwen recognized.

It was Hawk.

He was smiling. A wide, genuinely happy smile.

Gwen couldn't remember ever seeing him smile like that.

But the girl?

Gwen's frown deepened. She put the envelope down and picked up the photograph.

The picture must have been taken when Hawk was fourteen, not long after he started at Midtown.

Gwen was sure of the date.

She recognized the pants Hawk was wearing in the photo.

They were the same ones she had just been mentally teasing him about—the ones he had worn for three years, and when they got too short, had cut into shorts instead of throwing them away.

The very same shorts that were still hanging in his window.

But who was the girl?

Gwen studied the photo, her eyes drawn to the girl with the pale complexion, who was also smiling happily, her arms linked tightly with Hawk's.

His sister?

He's never mentioned a sister.

Gwen saw the subtle family resemblance in their features.

She racked her brain. Hawk had never, ever mentioned her.

Is she gone?

Gwen thought of the most likely reason for his silence. She gently placed the picture frame back on the nightstand, stood up, and walked out of the room.

As she reached the living room, she stopped, slapping her forehead.

She had forgotten the envelope.

"Huh?"

"Where'd it go?"

Gwen walked back into the bedroom, confused. The envelope was no longer on the floor where she'd left it. Then, she realized what must have happened. She crouched down again.

Sure enough.

The envelope had slid under the bed, probably blown there by the breeze when she rose.

Gwen sighed, reached under the bed, and felt around for it.

Soon.

Her fingertips brushed against the edge of the envelope.

And at the same time...

They brushed against the tightly wrapped bedsheet.

The moment her fingers made contact, she felt it. A cold, hard sensation, like touching metal, shot from her fingertips to her brain.