Marvel's Iron Lady

Banner never expected that his location would be exposed so quickly.

But what he didn't anticipate even more was that while he was still considering his next move, a black van was already weaving through the slums' narrow streets, heading directly for his rented house.

"Mission deployment complete. Everyone is in position according to tactical orders. Shoot on sight. No mistakes allowed."

In their earpieces, the team's leader, Colonel Emil Blonsky, issued his steady and authoritative orders. The men in the van nodded in response, pulling back the bolts on their rifles, chambering rounds.

The weapons they carried were specially modified automatic rifles, designed for this kind of mission, capable of firing tranquilizer darts.

The sun had not yet risen, and the slum's residents were still deep in sleep. The vehicle stopped a short distance from a residential building, and heavily armed U.S. special forces soldiers jumped out, forming a tactical formation as they quietly approached the target house.

Perhaps one of the team members made a bit too much noise with their footsteps, for suddenly, a guard dog inside the courtyard woke up and began barking fiercely at the approaching soldiers.

One soldier swiftly raised his rifle and fired a dart at the dog. The tranquilizer immediately paralyzed the animal's central nervous system, causing it to collapse to the ground, falling into a deep sleep without even a struggle.

Inside the house, Dr. Banner's eyes flew open, filled with shock and anger.

He had been playing this cat-and-mouse game with the U.S. Department of Defense's troops and agents for far too long.

Anyone else would have been captured long ago, but the monster inside Banner had allowed him to escape from the military's clutches again and again.

After all this time, he was no longer the bookish scientist he once was. The life-or-death situations he had faced had honed his survival instincts, and he had become an expert in counter-surveillance.

"Target location confirmed. Prepare to breach."

The soldier closest to the door withdrew the surveillance camera and pulled out a brick-sized object from his waist—a shaped charge breaching explosive.

This small, adhesive explosive was commonly used for breaching doors and other tactical purposes.

As Colonel Blonsky gave the order, the door was blown open with a sharp crack, and the soldiers rushed into the room, firing at the figure lying on the bed.

The figure didn't resist at all, several tranquilizer darts piercing through the blanket, enough to sedate an elephant.

But as Blonsky approached the bed, he immediately realized something was wrong.

He stopped his men and pulled back the blanket, revealing a pile of clothes shaped like a human figure.

"Damn it, the target is gone! I repeat, the target has escaped!"

They had come up empty-handed, but General Ross, overseeing the operation from the command van, wasn't about to let Banner slip through his fingers after all the effort he had put into finding him.

Frustrated but determined, Ross ordered Blonsky to lead the team and spread out to search for Banner, insisting that they capture him.

At dawn, as many slum dwellers began to wake up and the streets grew noisier, a unique chase began in this rundown corner of the city.

Colonel Blonsky bumped into Dr. Banner, who was now disguised as a local in different clothes. Blonsky didn't recognize him immediately, but Banner saw the fully armed U.S. soldiers and knew exactly what was going on.

"Oh, damn, what are the odds?"

For a brief moment, they locked eyes, and Banner immediately turned and ran, darting through the narrow streets and heading toward the nearest market.

Although the market hadn't officially opened yet, many vendors were already setting up their stalls, and the crowds provided Banner with cover to evade his pursuers.

Despite Blonsky's team being highly trained and well-equipped, they couldn't match Banner's familiarity with the area after months of living there. Nor could they match the experience he had gained from evading countless military capture attempts.

"We've lost the target. Report location."

"Target is fleeing northwest, heading toward the market. I'm in pursuit."

"The drone has eyes on him. He's moving north. He just entered a factory!"

The voices crackled through the comms. Though Banner was fast, the drone tailing him made escape nearly impossible.

Soon enough, he was herded into a soda factory, the same place where he had worked for the past few months.

"Damn it, there's no way out of this. I guess I have no choice but to—"

Dr. Banner hid in a small office, leaning against the wall, listening carefully to the approaching footsteps. At the same time, he took deep breaths, trying to calm his racing heart.

If his heart rate hit 200 beats per minute and stayed elevated for long enough, the green monster inside him would emerge, taking over his consciousness entirely.

After that, the Hulk—childlike in mind but monstrous in strength—would wreak havoc. Banner had no idea what the Hulk might do to the soldiers or how many people would be caught in the crossfire.

But now, surrounded by his father-in-law's elite special forces, what choice did he have?

"I don't want to hurt anyone, but I'm not going to let anyone hurt me, either."

Hearing the boots clomping on the concrete floor outside the office, Banner closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

He felt the fear deep within him, no longer suppressing the raging beast caged within his body.

In the next moment, his eyes snapped open, glowing with a menacing green light, like the gaze of a wolf starved for too long.

Every special forces member searching the soda factory for Banner heard a deep, beast-like growl.

No one knew what was happening, but each soldier instantly went on high alert, ready for any threat.

Colonel Blonsky slowly made his way through the factory's storage area. He saw footprints, confirming Banner's direction of escape, and followed them.

As he approached a corner, he heard faint, heavy breathing from the other side.

Realizing he was close, he braced himself.

But when he rounded the corner, what he saw stunned even this elite soldier, who had twice survived life-or-death situations on the frontlines.

Before him stood a hulking, three-meter-tall green-skinned figure, its grotesque muscles rippling beneath its flesh, bulging with sinewy veins. Its glowing green eyes burned with rage as it glared directly at Blonsky.

Being stared down by this monstrous figure, Blonsky felt his composure falter.

Every instinct in his brain screamed danger. This creature was beyond anything he could handle. The weight of the alloy gun in his hands provided no comfort.

"Sir, I think I've found him... but something's off."

"That's your target! Shoot! Open fire now, use the tranquilizers!"

In the command van, General Ross immediately understood what Blonsky was facing the moment he referred to the target as "it."

That was the monster Ross had been dreaming of capturing, the miracle he hoped to replicate to build an invincible American military force.

He had nearly crossed paths with the Hulk many times, but this time, Ross was determined. No matter the cost, no matter the sacrifices, he would not let the Hulk escape.

Blonsky, still staring at the towering green beast, didn't hesitate. Though he didn't understand why the creature hadn't attacked yet, that wasn't his concern. He raised his rifle and fired multiple tranquilizer darts into the Hulk's chest.

But the darts bounced off the Hulk's skin, unable to pierce it. His skin was as tough as steel, deflecting the sedative-laced projectiles.

Bullets ricocheted off the warehouse shelves, shattering a few unlucky soda bottles, sending their contents splattering across the floor. The noise alerted the rest of the squad, and they rushed toward Blonsky's position.

The Hulk, confused by his sudden awakening, seemed dazed at first—he had been dormant inside Banner for too long, groggy from the long sleep.

But when the Hulk noticed the men shooting at him, his memories of the last time he had emerged came flooding back. Back then, he had been cornered by a similar group of men with guns, trying to cage him in.

Though he had escaped that time, facing the same situation again reignited his fury.

Without warning, the Hulk's anger exploded, his green face contorting as he roared at Blonsky, then lunged forward.

"Damn it, switch to live rounds! Shoot! Shoot!"

Even with live rounds, they were no match for the Hulk.

The entire special forces team was quickly overpowered, with heavy casualties. Even Blonsky had several ribs broken.

No matter how elite they were, when faced with a creature so far beyond the realm of normality, they were helpless.

After incapacitating the entire squad, the Hulk smashed through the factory wall and disappeared into a cloud of dust.

"What the hell is that thing, sir? Bullets didn't even scratch its skin!"

After several minutes, Colonel Blonsky reappeared before General Ross, his arm in a sling, bandaged from the broken bones. His team, looking equally battered, had lost a few members along the way.

"I told you, you should have shot him on sight before he had a chance to transform into that thing."

Ross slowly lit a cigar, glancing over at the injured soldiers sprawled across the ground. His expression was filled with frustration.

"I already gave you the best chance. All you had to do was tranquilize Bruce Banner before he turned into that thing. Once he's in his green form, nothing can stop him."

"Alright, mission failed. Everyone pack up and get ready to board the plane. We're heading back."

General Ross observed Blonsky and his battered team, recognizing how deeply shaken these young soldiers were by their encounter with the Hulk.

No one knew where the Hulk had gone after his rampage.

When Banner finally regained consciousness, he found himself lying next to a waterfall in a secluded area of the rainforest. His clothes had been shredded by his transformation into the Hulk, and his backpack, along with his computer and identification documents, was lost. His body ached all over.

"How stupid of me. I should've known better than to carry a backpack when I was about to turn into the Hulk."

Banner chuckled bitterly at his tattered clothes and the unfamiliar surroundings. He was practically naked, looking like a wild man in the jungle. But on reflection, he realized he couldn't stay there any longer. The U.S. military could show up at any moment.

With no other options, Banner tore up his ragged clothes, fashioning a makeshift loincloth to cover himself. He began walking alone along a jungle trail, hoping to find some form of civilization.

Luckily, it wasn't long before he stumbled across a small truck hauling lumber.

"Hey! Stop the truck, help me out!" Banner shouted, waving his arms.

The truck stopped, and a middle-aged man in a plaid shirt leaned out of the driver's seat, looking friendly enough. The only problem was that the man didn't speak English and only responded in Portuguese. Banner had to struggle with his broken Portuguese to communicate.

"Where am I?"

"Guatemala."

When Banner heard this, his face twitched slightly. It became clear that while he was unconscious, the Hulk had traveled across half of South America, all the way to Guatemala from Brazil.

After hitching a ride to a nearby small town, Banner managed to borrow some old clothes from the truck driver. However, even with clothes and shelter, Banner still had a big problem—he had no identification or money. He was stuck.

As night fell, another day came to a close. Life on the streets wasn't easy, but Banner knew he couldn't approach the government or seek help from any official institutions. As a wanted fugitive in the U.S., showing his face could immediately alert the military, and the events in Brazil would replay themselves.

He was acutely aware that he needed to keep a low profile, but without resources, he had no choice but to scrounge for food. He ended up in a local market after it had closed for the day, picking up scraps of vegetables to eat. At night, he slept under a bridge like a vagrant.

Deep down, Banner's resentment toward the U.S. government only continued to grow. How could he not hate them? Once a brilliant scientist, he had been reduced to fighting with beggars for scraps of food. He had all this knowledge and expertise, but now he couldn't even obtain a simple identity.

He was once just a regular person with a fulfilling life. But all of that had been taken away from him in the wake of that failed experiment. Now, he was a wanted criminal with no home and no ability to contact anyone from his former life—all thanks to the very country that had once nurtured him.

When Banner awoke again, to his surprise, he found himself lying on a luxurious bed, covered with a thin blanket, the air conditioning set just right.

"Good morning, Dr. Banner. It wasn't easy to track you down, but here you are."

A woman dressed in a light gray suit sat on a nearby sofa. Noticing that Banner was awake, she turned to greet him.

It was only when she spoke that Banner realized something strange—he was lying in a bed aboard a luxury private jet.

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