Marvel: A Lazy-Ass Superman

Chapter 357: Chapter 357 — Traces That Cannot Be Hidden

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Nick Fury said in surprise, ”You recognize this cat?”

Flipping over the tag on the orange cat’s collar and confirming it was indeed the one she knew, Maria Rambeau gave it a quick rub and said, ”Goose belonged to Dr. Lawson.

”After the doctor’s accident, no one could find Goose anymore. Every now and then, though, people would still spot it inside the base. When the doctor was still alive, Carol was also very close to Goose. Do you remember that?”

This question was directed at Vers, the Kree Starforce member.

At that moment, Nick Fury suddenly understood why the cat had appeared inside the base and why it seemed so attached to them. Goose wasn’t clinging to him, the big Black guy—it was clinging to Vers.

However, Vers herself had no memory of this. She frowned and tried to recall something, but in the end she could only shake her head.

Just as she was about to say something, Maria Rambeau stuffed the orange cat into her daughter’s arms. ”Forget it. Come back to my place first. This isn’t somewhere to talk.”

Watching this, Henry broke out in a cold sweat.

You’re worried that Katie might hurt your daughter, but it never crossed your mind that the cat might be even more dangerous?

When the group arrived at Maria Rambeau’s home, she immediately spotted the Quadjet parked not far from the house. A flying machine that out of place in a small town was obviously not something a local would own.

Maria looked at them. ”That plane... you flew it here?”

Nick Fury responded with his usual flippant tone. ”Relax. It’s a vertical takeoff jet. Won’t mess up your lawn.”

The little girl’s eyes lit up instantly. ”Mom! Can I go see it?”

Constantly crushing a child’s enthusiasm wasn’t good either—and honestly, Maria herself was curious about that unusual aircraft. Still, what concerned her more right now was what had happened to her close friend.

”Go ahead. But I still need to ask your Aunt Carol what’s been going on all this time. I won’t wait for you.”

”Oh... then never mind.”

The girl took her mother’s hand, her bright eyes fixed firmly on the aunt who had come back from the dead.

The group entered the house—Henry and Katie included.

It was a very ordinary, typical suburban American two-story standalone home. The first floor consisted of the living room, kitchen, dining area, and so on, while the bedrooms were all on the second floor.

With only a mother and daughter living there, the house was actually a bit too large and took effort to clean. Still, it was kept very tidy. Everything showed signs of careful maintenance, making it easy to imagine how hard the homeowner worked to keep her life together.

Everyone gathered in the dining room. By American custom, serious conversations tended to take place in the dining room. The living room was furnished too comfortably—it was for casual chatting and relaxation.

One man and one tiger consciously stayed at a distance, not getting too close to the mother who still held some wariness, or to the curious child.

But everyone’s attention was on Vers, listening as she recounted what had happened.

Even so, Vers didn’t say much. She began with how she had been captured by Skrulls, strapped into a strange machine, and shown bizarre visions.

Those unclear hallucinations were what drove her to pursue answers she herself didn’t know she was looking for.

That trail eventually led her to Project PEGASUS, where she discovered that she herself appeared in archival photos. That was why she had come to question Maria Rambeau—also a former participant in Project PEGASUS—about its details.

Compared to the utterly confused mother, Monica Rambeau, the daughter, was far more carefree. Lost in her own excitement, she suddenly said,

”Aunt Carol, we still kept all your old stuff—including your flight jacket. One time I accidentally got ketchup on it, and Mom wouldn’t let me wear it anymore. I’ll go get those things so you can see them!”

Without waiting to see whether anyone even needed them, she ran off to rummage through things.

Vers exchanged glances with the others and then said to Nick Fury, ”Maybe you can go help her.”

Nick Fury had actually wanted to stay, but he wasn’t that socially clueless. ”Alright. There might be a lot of stuff—probably easier with more hands. Bobbi, come with me. Henry, what about you?”

”I’ll take Katie out for a walk,” Henry said. ”You know—after eating and drinking, there’s always something that needs to come out. Your place doesn’t exactly look like it has a litter box, so I’ll take her to the nearby woods and find a suitable spot.”

Nick Fury glanced at the tiger lying by Henry’s feet, said nothing, shrugged, and left.

Henry, of course, wasn’t just talking. He took Katie out through the kitchen’s back door, heading off to find a suitable place to deal with the tiger’s bodily needs.

Tiger urination wasn’t like a dog lifting its leg or squatting. A tiger sprayed straight backward. So under no circumstances should you stand behind a tiger at that moment—unless you wanted a tiger-urine shower...

Henry used taking Katie out as an excuse because he had already noticed something abnormal.

Flying the Quadjet from California all the way here had not been completely smooth.

The Quadjet didn’t have stealth capability. That meant if it flew too high, it had to be managed by air traffic control (ATC). At around 18,000 feet above sea level, it would definitely be monitored.

That airspace was mainly used by large commercial passenger planes and cargo aircraft. Those planes weren’t very maneuverable and flew fast—by the time pilots visually noticed another aircraft on a collision course, there was basically no chance to evade. That was why strict management was required.

Airspace around airports was also heavily controlled due to takeoffs and landings.

Below 18,000 feet, airspace was divided into several classes with different rules, all meant to keep air routes safe and unobstructed.

Airspace below 1,200 feet was considered a transition zone. Flying at that altitude involved fewer restrictions. On one hand, aircraft limited to that height usually weren’t very fast, and pilots had enough maneuverability to visually avoid each other.

However, Vers obviously couldn’t fly the Quadjet at supersonic speed at that altitude. That would be like flooring a supercar in the slow lane—you’d have no idea what you might slam into.

So their ability to fly in had relied on Nick Fury using his special authority to secure a temporary flight corridor.

If someone failed to follow these rules, they’d be lucky enough to see U.S. fighter jets escorting them—and be forced to land at a designated airport. If they ignored warnings, the U.S. military was authorized to shoot them down. Before 9/11, though, things usually stopped at warnings.

Fortunately, the Quadjet itself was a U.S. military experimental aircraft, complete with valid transponder signals, so it didn’t require additional identity verification.

But everything being compliant created another problem—

They had left behind traceable tracks.

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