Black Widow was injured, and Coulson did everything in his power to mobilize the resources at his disposal.
Not long after, a helicopter equipped with full emergency medical facilities hovered and landed on the road.
As soon as Black Widow entered the emergency room, Coulson rushed to the hospital in a hurry.
"How is she?"
The characters in the Marvel universe may all have some quirky and goofy traits, but when things get serious, most of them are reliable.
After receiving Blake's call, the first thing Coulson did was to arrange for a professional medical team and a helicopter to come over.
The second thing was to immediately have people search the area, set up surveillance, and check the monitoring systems.
When Blake asked, Coulson instantly understood his meaning.
"I've already arranged for two teams—one is reviewing the surveillance footage from the past few days, and the other is tracking the movements of you and Natasha over the past few days."
"This was a premeditated attack, definitely not an impulsive act. I believe they have been tailing one or both of you for a few days."
"What I'm curious about now is why, after firing a missile at you, the attackers didn't follow up with more attacks?"
Blake recalled the situation in detail and said, "When the explosion happened, I was afraid Natasha would be hurt, so I shielded her through it."
"If this had been before I went to Asgard, I probably would have been injured. If it had been an ordinary super-soldier, that blast would have seriously injured them or left them temporarily incapacitated."
Coulson quickly thought about the times Blake had displayed his strength in front of others and then put himself in the attackers' shoes.
"It must have been an intelligence issue—they underestimated your strength. If they had pressed on with the attack, Natasha might not have survived, but the attackers would've either been captured or killed by you!"
"Blake..."
Coulson was about to say something else when the door to the operating room opened, and a doctor hurried out.
"Doctor?" Blake stood up abruptly.
"The patient's chest cavity has been penetrated halfway by shrapnel, and her lungs are severely damaged."
"Surgery is needed as soon as possible, but the problem is that the shrapnel is near the heart, and there are two major arteries nearby. The surgery is extremely difficult!"
The doctor quickly and briefly explained the situation.
The implication was that the success rate of the surgery was very low.
"There must be some way to improve the chances, right? More advanced equipment, a better doctor—there has to be a way! Just tell me, anyone or anything you need, I can get it for you!"
Blake, a bit agitated, grabbed the doctor by the shoulders.
The doctor let out a pained grunt, and Blake quickly loosened his grip.
"I'm sorry, doctor. I'm just too anxious. Now, give me an answer—I want my girlfriend to come out of this surgery safely!"
"The best surgeon in New York City, and probably all of North America, has incredible skill. His hands are more precise than any machine, and he's extremely dedicated. If he performs the surgery, your girlfriend's chances of recovery will be high."
"But this doctor has one quirk—he never takes any work after hours. A billionaire once offered him $10 million to make a house call, and he refused. He only works during his designated hours, believing that's when he can save the most lives."
"Tell me his name!"
The coldness in Blake's eyes made the doctor pause.
He didn't believe anyone could persuade the best surgeon in New York, someone who had turned down offers from countless billionaires to become their personal or family doctor.
However, seeing Blake's imposing manner, and then glancing at Coulson standing nearby with two agents, it was clear they were not to be messed with. The doctor figured this man wasn't an ordinary person either.
So, after some hesitation, he said a name.
"Doctor Stephen Strange!"
Hearing that name, Blake was momentarily stunned—Doctor Strange!
When the doctor mentioned the best surgeon in New York and even all of North America, Blake should have realized it.
But now wasn't the time to dwell on that. Before Blake could say anything, Coulson had already waved to the two agents by his side, "Find him, bring him back!"
Blake looked at the doctor.
"I guarantee that within an hour, there will be no problems. If, after an hour, you haven't brought in Doctor Strange, all I can say is I'll do my best."
With that, the doctor hurried back into the operating room.
S.H.I.E.L.D. agents are fast at locating ordinary people.
In just twenty minutes, the future Doctor Strange was standing in front of Blake.
Proud, arrogant, eccentric, and bound to follow his own rules.
To some extent, he was a bit like Tony Stark, though compared to Tony, Doctor Strange was less carefree and reckless.
"I've said before, I do not accept any work after hours, no matter who you are. Let go of me, and apologize!"
"Five hundred million dollars! Go in and perform the surgery, and I'll give you five hundred million dollars!"
Blake directly offered a price no normal person could refuse.
"Even if you had five hundred million in cash right here in front of me, don't expect me to go in and perform the surgery."
"Money, to me, is just a necessity of life, not the motivation or purpose of my work. So, you'd better save your breath."
Doctor Strange walked right up to Blake, speaking each word clearly.
In a flash, Blake reached into an agent's holster, pulled out a gun, and pressed it to Doctor Strange's head.
"Hey!"
Coulson and the other agent looked at Blake, clearly tense.
"Blake, relax!"
But Blake ignored them and directly threatened Doctor Strange.
"Now, go in and perform the surgery, and the five hundred million dollar offer still stands! Otherwise…"
"Otherwise, you'll shoot me, right? This is a hospital, are you going to kill me here? Sir, please call the police—your friend is getting a bit too impulsive."
Doctor Strange remained unyielding.
Blake hesitated for a moment, then fired a shot that shattered a light fixture on the ceiling.
He then pointed the gun at his own head.
"Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!" He fired several shots!
Then, to the shock of Doctor Strange and the two agents, he punched the wall next to him, shattering it.
"Christine Palmer—she's also a doctor at this hospital. If you don't go in now, I'll kill her immediately, then I'll cut off those hands of yours, the ones you claim are more precise than machines. Do you think the police will be able to stop me?"
Doctor Strange stared intently at Blake.
After a long pause...
He finally spoke slowly, "Alright, you win! I'll go perform the surgery right now, but I reserve the right to report this to the authorities afterward!"
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