#aleckiernan

Zemo stood in the shadows within the courtyard of his makeshift fortress as rain fell in torrents, striking the metal roofs in a cacophony. Sheet metal walls and overgrown weeds were his only glimpse of the world outside the walls of his base. True, a man like he should never fear to leave his own accommodations, but his enemies- though inferior in mind- were... advantaged in power. And so, he must wait within the confining walls of his keep. He never strayed from under the metal roof erected over the door back into his abyss. His own cell, but he chose it, so in that he found solace. A man like him must never be too careful.

After a few more minutes of enjoying the smell of the rain, Zemo returned to the darkness of his compound. He had a meeting to attend of his own making, and it would not do for the host to be late. The meeting room had been meticulously arranged into that of a comfortable den. Three finely ornamented arm chairs had been brought in with an end table to the side of each. Paintings, rugs, and other decorative items had been laid out around the room to suggest power and prestige. Nothing was too small to be beneath Zemo’s notice. This was, after all, how he managed each and every plan; with the utmost detail and precision.

He reclined himself in the armchair that faced the door, legs crossed, arms resting on the arms of the chair. He stayed in this position for fifteen minutes before the door opened and one of his henchmen announced the arrival of Zemo’s guests. The Baron watched the door, expressionless. Only time would tell if this arrangement would continue to be mutually beneficial, or more trouble than it was worth.

Daken had been lurking in the shadows for years. Since the majority of superheroes disappeared over four years ago, he had lost track of his father. A mutant myself, the assassin made surety keep a wide breadth from the United States, but he monitored the HOPE situation with interest. A few months back, they had fallen from their ivory tower and the heroes re-emerged. Two figures interested him in particular.

The first was, obviously, his father, Wolverine. Finally, the old man had shown his ugly mug again. Second was a politician named Alec Kiernan. The man had worked alongside HOPE, but distanced himself from the radical group once their crimes came to light. He was fighting to remain politically viable. Someone that manipulative and despicable, and that desperate, could be very valuable to his employers.

His work with Hydra had begun as a way to find out more information about their former assassin, the Winter Soldier. Whether they knew that or not, they were happy to have the services of Daken. A number of the political assassinations over the past four years had been committed by the mutant killer. The higher ups had ordered him to approach Kiernan, an order which he happily obliged.