CRUEL INTENTIONS, bucky barnes

six

April 6, 2014

S.H.I.E.L.D. HQ, The Triskelion

Washington, D.C.

"Pierce is down."

A chill ran across Savannah's skin. She stopped in her tracks and turned her head, even though the voice was coming through her earpiece. People continued to push past her through the hallway, fleeing. She wiped her forehead and moved to the wall, trying to steady herself. As if today hadn't been enough trouble already. As if it could get any fucking worse.

Her ears were ringing and her legs felt like they might give out. What felt like whole minutes later, she finally managed to respond.

"What?"

"Pierce. Pierce is—He's dead, King. Fury is—"

The man's shaking voice cut off with an abrupt choking sound and Savannah slammed her open palm against the cold, cement wall.

"God dammit!"

No one stopped to see if she was all right. A few people met her eye, the few HYDRA agents that were left. The few that had been smart enough to keep themselves hidden when the shooting started. She knew it wouldn't last long.

Eventually, they would have to fight for their cause, especially if Alexander Pierce had been slain by Nick Fury. HYDRA would have to come pouring out of the woodwork, but there was no way they could overwhelm S.H.I.E.L.D., not now. It was supposed to be the perfect time, their perfect plan. And it had failed so completely. The Insight helicarriers were crashing in the Potomac and there was nothing to be done but self-preserve or die trying.

Static cut through on comms again, another terrified voice of one of her colleagues.

"Romanoff and Fury are approaching—" The woman's voice cut out for a moment. "—wing. Do not engage. I repeat, do not—"

Her voice dropped off, too. Savannah didn't know if it was a bad connection or if she had met her end. Truthfully, it didn't matter to her.

What she cared about the most was finding the Asset and getting him back under control.

The last orders they'd administered were to pursue Rogers at any cost. She didn't know for certain how long he'd last, given the ordeal after meeting him on the bridge.

Savannah pushed on, shouldering through a mix of her colleagues still camouflaged as the enemy and genuine S.H.I.E.L.D. agents. She hadn't heard where exactly Romanoff and Fury were headed, but she planned on engaging and taking them down. She'd had enough. If no one else was going to try to hold HYDRA together, Savannah King would do it herself.

She and the group of agents she had been tailing barely made it to the ground floor before the entire building lurched. Everyone cried out and ducked instinctively, even Savannah. Her eyes darted around the room, trying to take in all the information she could.

Her feet never stopped moving toward the front door. She had a sinking feeling in her stomach that she couldn't quite shake, a feeling of impending doom that only a few other sensible people seemed to share with her. Many had fallen to their knees, hands clasped behind their heads. As if that would save them from the collapse of a fifty-story building.

Almost as the thought passed through her mind and as she stepped out into the scorching light of day, her lungs were consumed with dust.

She, among others, dared a glance skyward. Savannah's breath stuck in her throat. The dust and debris burned her eyes as the helicarrier cut through the side of the Triskelion like a warm knife through butter.

"No," she uttered, still taking stumbling steps backward. Someone grabbed her arm and tried to pull her away, but she tore out of their grasp to press a shaking finger to her earpiece. "Does anyone have tabs on Rumlow?"

She was met with static. A few broken-up voices, a few screams. A sick feeling of dread crept up the back of her throat.

Everyone was dead. HYDRA really was going to fall alongside S.H.I.E.L.D., and it was really going to be over. Without Pierce, without Rumlow, it would be hard to scrape up the survivors and motivate them.

Without them, Savannah wasn't sure what would happen to the Asset. She didn't know where he was, if he'd managed to kill Steve Rogers, or if he himself had been killed. That was the hardest thing to swallow.

Nevertheless, she turned her back on the collapsing Triskelion and tucked her face into the crook of her arm. A few paramedics descended on her and strapped her into a gas mask and whisked her out of harm's way.

As she watched the three helicarriers come to rest in the Potomac River from a medical helicopter, she tried to come to terms with all the uncertainty of HYDRA's future. Just as the panic was seeping in, something caught Savannah's eye.

She jerked away from the paramedic that was tending to her minor wounds and nearly pressed her face against the window. For a moment, she thought she might have been hallucinating.

The helicopter was too far away to be completely certain, but the red-white-and-blue uniform stood out like a sore thumb against the gray landscape of smoke and dust. Savannah was sure that she had seen Steve Rogers plummet from the last crashing helicarrier. A new burst of adrenaline rushed through her.

The Asset was alive. He had taken out Captain America. He'd fulfilled his mission and would need to be extracted as soon as possible. Savannah eyed the handful of paramedics that surrounded her and stealthily ran her hand over her sidearm.

There were plenty of things to be scared of in that moment, plenty of uncertainty and every reason to believe it was all over. But Savannah King had faith in the Winter Soldier, and she knew with the death of Steve Rogers, HYDRA may be equipped to rise again, sooner than expected. They'd have to act quickly in order to maintain the element of surprise, which would be significantly more difficult without their Director.

Savannah narrowed her gaze on the largest paramedic sitting across from her, slender fingers wrapped around her firearm. The Asset needed extraction. No one else knew he was still alive and she doubted anyone who cared was still breathing.

A wave of calm washed over her. The calm before the storm. It was then that she knew.

It was up to her.