The next day in New York was still gloomy, with sporadic light rain still floating in the sky.
Frank was hitting sandbags in the training room inside the house when the doorbell rang.
Going to open the door, the puncher, who was still dressed in a gray and black hooded sweater, stood at the door and raised the big kraft paper bag in his hand to signal: "Let's have some food together?"
Frank turned sideways expressionlessly, and let the passage through the door: "I've eaten."
Luke walked in the door: "Do you need me to save some for your lunch?"
Frank just shook his head, closed the door, and the two sat back on the sofa in the living room.
Luke casually took out a cheeseburger from the big paper bag and took a bite: "How are you resting?"
Frank: "It's okay."
Luke reached out to touch the remote control on the coffee table, pressed the button, and the window immediately became a single-sided state.
Throwing away the remote control, he took out a mobile phone from his backpack and threw it to Frank: "It's the general situation inside, you can take a look first. If there is no problem, we can start the preliminary preparations."
Frank took the phone, found an "action plan" file on the desktop, opened it and looked at it.
Luke was beside him unhurriedly. After eating one hamburger, he picked up another one and ate five of them in one go before stopping.
Frank just finished browsing the document and looked up at him: "Are you sure, we want to protect the citizens in Manhattan, New York, and plan how to resist tens of thousands of enemies. They also have fighter jets with technology far superior to F4, conservatively estimated to be more than 500, and … um, an unknown number of Helicarrier-type warships?"
Luke nodded as usual: "That's right."
Frank was silent for a moment, but decided to ask a little more clearly: "What is an aerospace carrier? An aircraft carrier?"
Luke nodded frankly again: "That's almost what it means. They can fly into the sky and release a lot of fighter planes and soldiers."
With Frank's calmness, he felt like hitting someone now: "Are you sure, you're not talking about a sci-fi movie? Where did the space carrier come from on earth!"
Even with the scientific research strength of the United States, which is known as the world's number one, there is no news of this kind of equipment.
Now it's bullshit to say that someone is going to use this thing to attack Manhattan, and more than one ship.
After thinking about it, Luke took out another cheeseburger and took a bite: "Well, SHIELD may have one."
"Uh... what?" Frank looked shocked: "They still have this kind of thing?"
Luke: "Maybe, at least it's technically possible."
Frank didn't say anything more, his eyes flickered.
Luke didn't urge him, and continued to eat his cheeseburger.
Even my dear Uncle Frank needs time to accept such unbelievable things, otherwise he would not be a human from Earth.
After a while, Frank got up, went to the refrigerator and brought back a bottle of mineral water, turned away and took a sip.
After a moment of silence, he asked, "That's why you are looking for me?"
Luke patted the hamburger residue on his hand: "Otherwise. Ordinary opponents don't need a superhero team to perform this special operations mission."
Frank thought of this for a while, and he also thought of this.
If it weren't for facing such a terrifying opponent, how could Batman be willing to be a soldier and let him command.
You know, he and Batman didn't know each other at all.
It's not absolutely necessary, how could the other party give their life to a stranger.
As for why he was looking for, the reason is also very simple.
The opponent needs a commander who can find out the enemy's loopholes and turn defeat into victory in one fell swoop under absolute disadvantage.
He needs to lead the superhero squad to carry out an operation similar to decapitation tactics.
Otherwise, even if there are more than a dozen superheroes at his command, it is impossible to fight against tens of thousands of opponents who still have complete air supremacy and win.
Once exposed, the opponent can mobilize a little bit of troops and firepower to smash them into scum, no superhero is useless.
Special operations is not a miracle, on the contrary it is always a great adventure.
A small mistake, and the entire army will be wiped out.
Not to mention that the opponent is not a weak chicken, but an army with super technology, which will only further reduce the team's chances of survival.
He thought about it, and looked at Luke: "What about the specific information? The distribution of the opponent's weapons and personnel, I need these things."
Luke finally showed a wry smile, and spread his hands: "This is the problem."
Frank had a bad feeling in his heart: "What do you mean?"
Luke: "These I gave you are probably all the other party's information. If you have to add a little explanation, you can understand them as... the alien fleet."
Frank's eyes widened: "hat?"
He didn't expect to get such a nonsense answer.
Luke affirmed again: "Yes, they are an alien fleet capable of space travel, and they are definitely not recruits."
"Malafaco!" Frank finally spat out the vulgar words.
…
Not long after, Luke took Frank out of the temporary safe house and went to the real combat center.
The operations center is located in the suburb of North Bergen, New Jersey, where Elena College is located.
However, the east and the west are quite far apart, and the operational center is closer to Manhattan.
Luke started building this place a few months ago.
It was originally a mechanical processing factory. After being bought by Luke with the vest ID as the new owner, it was under construction for a month.
But before it reopened, it was announced that the capital chain was broken and construction could not continue for the time being.
After eating a large amount of machinery and raw materials, the factory entered a state of shutdown.
However, the new boss has not declared bankruptcy, so even though the factory area has not started construction, there are very professional security guards.
For Mr. Riddle, a person in charge who occasionally comes in and out of here, these security guards are still very familiar.
Today, Mr. Riddle brought a new face, Mr. Hammer-Smith, and told the security that this is the new factory supervisor who is responsible for maintaining everything here.
In other words, Mr. "Hammersmith" is the immediate boss of the four security guards.
Looking at the new boss who had a poker face, just nodded slightly, then turned and left, the four security guards all had a bad feeling: This Mr. Blacksmith doesn't look very easy to get along with.
Fortunately, Mr. Riddle was always so considerate, and the team leader who held the security guards explained a few words.
The general idea is that Mr. Smith is just a bit rigid in character, as long as they follow instructions in all actions, there will be no problem.
The security employment contract will last at least until the expiration of one year, and if the performance is good, it may even be exchanged for a long-term contract of three to five years.
The security guards were a little relieved.
Compared with New York, where people are panicked, life here in North Bergen is a bit boring, but life is still very comfortable, and the salary of the security guard is also very good.
And losing this job, only God knows whether there will be such a good treatment next time.