*Six Months Ago*

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Location: REDACTED

Designation under review: SEVENTEEN-HUNDREDS

Agent I.D.: K-2822

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"Watch it, Twenty-Three," I bark.

After all this time, she's still reckless.

She freezes, eyes flicking to me momentarily in an almost challenging way before she drops her defense, opening herself for an attack.

The agent in front of her rolls his neck and wipes the blood from his lip before wrapping his foot around her ankle and tripping her forwards into the mat. She hits the ground hard but bounces back up, aiming for his torso in an obviously pulled punch.

Good.

My eyes skip to the others; the 'Seventeen-Hundreds' as the Director so creatively name them when they were assigned to my charge.

Seventeen Twenty-One isn't so bad, good technique, good balance, strong. He has potential to become a great fighter.

But Seventeen Twenty-Three doesn't have potential; she is a great fighter.

As much as I hate to admit it.

And that's why she's kept on a tight leash.

I flick my attention from Twenty-One to Twenty-Three.

I'd pay to see Twenty-Three beat his ass...

Better yet, to see her beat Twenty-Four's.

I look to the oldest, the leader of their quartet. The one who was too righteous to focus on his own safety, but not righteous enough to avoid joining Hydra.

I can't help but wonder if they would actually fight each other. How far they would go if I ordered them to. How far their loyalty runs—and to who.

"Twenty-Three, Twenty-Four, front and—"

The training room door bangs open, and I whip my head to the sound, eyes honed on the young agent half-running towards me.

"Sir," he pants, trying—and failing—to keep himself calm.

"What is it?" I spit.

"The Arizona base. It fell."

"What do you mean it fell?"

Holding On | Bucky BarnesWhere stories live. Discover now