Chapter 166: Chapter 165: This Place Belongs to Me Now
New York Bell Telephone Company, basically the New York branch of the Strategic Scientific Reserve.
Peggy Carter walked into the office, looking a little tired. Before she could even sit down, Director Flynn stepped out of his office and called her over.
Last year, the entire New York branch of the SSR had undergone a major shake-up because of Josh's actions.
The previous director, Roger Dooley, and his team were demoted and reassigned to the Los Angeles office. This came shortly after General Phillips pulled them out of the NYPD. Daniel Sousa was appointed temporary director.
But Sousa didn't last long. He lacked the experience needed for the job. Within a month, Flynn was parachuted in as the new director of the New York branch, with Sousa as his deputy.
"Agent Carter, come into my office. We need to talk," Flynn ordered as soon as he saw her return.
"Yes, sir!" Carter reluctantly entered his office.
"What do you think you're doing?" Flynn wasted no time in questioning her bluntly.
"I was getting ready to do some paperwork..." Carter tried to deflect.
"Don't play games with me, Agent! Tell me, what did you do today?" Flynn interrupted her sharply. "Who gave you permission to go into the field without authorization?"
"I was just trying to help..." Carter said helplessly.
"We don't need your help, Agent Carter. Your job is to complete the tasks I give you on time. That's all the help we need. The rest will be handled by others," Flynn insisted firmly.
"But sir, I'm a field agent -" Carter tried to argue.
"That was in the past! Ms. Carter, everyone here has to follow the rules, even if you were Captain America's girlfriend—or maybe the wealthy tycoon's." Flynn's patience was wearing thin, and he didn't bother to spare her dignity.
"How dare you say that!" Carter snapped angrily.
"Oh, come on. Everyone knows it's because of you that the entire New York branch has become the laughingstock of the U.S. intelligence community. If it weren't for that, do you think you'd still be sitting here talking to me?" Flynn scoffed. "Of course, you could always go and beg that wealthy tycoon to have me removed from New York."
Peggy Carter had no answer.
Since last year's incident, the entire New York branch had distanced themselves from her. With Bucky gone as her partner, she was now completely sidelined—a side player who spent her days doing menial tasks and had no access to field assignments.
There was nothing she could do about it.
Who could she blame? Her colleagues? In a way, they were right. It was because of her that the SSR lost its reputation and became a joke.
Blame Josh? He was just a victim, caught in the middle of the conflict while trying to help her.
Should she blame herself? Peggy Carter couldn't think of anything she had done wrong.
If there was anyone to blame, it was the times she lived in—or the fact that she was a woman.
As she walked out of the office, all the agents except Sousa gave her dirty looks.
Swallowing her frustration, Carter returned to her desk and sat idly until the end of the workday.
When it was time to leave, she was the first to leave the office—not because she couldn't bear to stay, but because she was in a hurry.
About ten minutes later, Carter arrived at a familiar restaurant where she and Bucky often ate. There she met Edwin Jarvis, Howard Stark's butler, who had been waiting for her.
"Any good news?" Carter asked in a low voice as she sat at a nearby table, facing away from him.
"Yes, I have a lead. A nightclub owner and underground broker named Spider Raymond is trying to sell one of Mr. Stark's inventions. Here's his information." Jarvis discreetly handed her an envelope from behind.
"A black man?" Carter opened the envelope, surprised by what she saw.
It wasn't prejudice—this was still a time of segregation in the U.S. A black nightclub owner was quite unusual.
"Not surprising, really. He's of mixed race and has a wealthy father," Jarvis explained, sipping his coffee and frowning slightly. "And running a nightclub often involves shady dealings. Money talks, regardless of color."
The restaurant was a budget venue. Jarvis, who once would have enjoyed such coffee as an ordinary British soldier, now found it hard to drink after years of living in Stark's world of luxury.
"Fine. Anything else I should know?" Carter nodded, taking in the information.
"You need to act quickly. The deal goes down tonight. And if my sources are right, your colleagues may already have some information," Jarvis warned.
"I'll take care of it," Carter said with a deep breath before leaving the restaurant.
About ten minutes later, Peggy Carter appeared at the nightclub, dressed in a glamorous evening gown and wearing a blonde wig. According to the intel, Raymond had a particular fondness for blondes, so Carter decided to use that to get close to him.
Although she wasn't one to rely on seduction for missions, she didn't mind using her assets to achieve her goals.
The nightclub was chaotic and loud. Brushing off the advances of a drunken man, Carter made her way to the guarded staircase leading to the second floor.
"Sorry, ma'am, the second floor is not open to the public," one of the guards said, blocking her way.
"I need to speak with Mr. Raymond. I have something to sell," Carter said, deliberately flaunting her figure, hoping the guards would understand their boss's preferences and let her through.
However...
"Raymond? Ma'am, your information is out of date. This place doesn't belong to Raymond anymore," a guard replied with a grin, exchanging glances with his companion.
"What? How is that possible?" Carter was stunned by the revelation.
"Anything is possible, ma'am. I'm Dix, and I own this nightclub now," a tall white man said as he descended the stairs.
You can also support me on patreon and get early access till chapter 229 (63 Chapters ahead of this one).