The Silver Soldier

XXVI

I watch the fighting go on from a distance, surveying, calculating. I crouch behind a fallen tree at the edge of the forest, the knife hidden in my boot is digging into my ankle.

I can easily make out my friends by their fighting style. And let me tell you, the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents aren't winning this time. I smile as I watch Laura slice her blade across a man's throat, his hands shoot to his neck as he falls to his knees.

A twig snaps behind me.

The muzzle of a gun in pressed to the back of my head. "Hands where I can see them." A voice demands. I don't raise my hands. What's the worst that can happen? I die?

I scoff at the thought.

My hand instantly goes to my boot, I pull the knife out and turn around. The gun goes off, I feel the bullet tear through the flesh on the side of my face. My ears are ringing. But I slash the blade upwards, cutting into his arm.

He drops the gun, clutching his injury. He's wearing a mask, the same as all the other agents. I jab the knife into his throat, he falls to the ground, choking on his own blood.

I still hate blood.

I take his mask, his weapons, and the piece of gum from his pocket. Mint, if I might add. I take the wrapper off of it and pop the gum into my mouth. I haven't had gum in a long time.

I pull the mask on over my face and step out from the bushes. I feel like John Wick. Black suit, guns, knives... I feel powerful.

Because Scott is familiar with the Avengers, and therefore agents of SHIELD, I don't want to be recognized.

Laura sees me immediately.

She grins as she kicks a guy away from her. My bullet is through his brain before he hits the ground. She doesn't bother thanking me, she has better things to do. I walk towards the main building, heading to where I hear the most gunshots. Two more agents run into the building. And despite outnumbering us 50 to 6, I see more of their bodies than I do ours. In fact, I don't see any of ours at all.

I have my gun in one hand, and my knife in the other. The agents I see first have their backs to the open door, aiming their machine guns at something down the hall. They're so focused on their task, that they don't hear me as I walk up behind them. And I wasn't even trying to be quiet.

The two of them barely make a sound as they fall to the ground, throats slit. I've always been a fan of killing like this, it's quick, it's quiet, and there is little to no chance that the person can be revived. I step over the two men as they grasp at their necks, choking.

Idiots.

I can hear fighting at the end of the hallway. Growling.

Theo.

But he's not the only one.

I cautiously make my way towards them, gun raised and ready. Sure enough, as I round the corner, I see Theo, and the werewolf he's fighting has their back to me. But I instantly know who it is. Theo sees me and falters. He gets in one more punch and his opponent hits the ground.

"You just don't die, do you?" Theo looks at me in disbelief as he circles the werewolf.

"I wish." I mutter, my eyes focused on the boy on the ground. There is blood on his face, claw marks in his chest. His hair is longer than it was when I last saw him. Two years ago. "What's he doing here?" I ask, nodding at the boy.

"Shield brought backup. Scott's here too, and some others."

"What are you going to do with him."

"Whatever you want me to."

I ponder my options. "Don't kill him yet. We can use him." It isn't a lie, but it isn't the whole truth either. I've always liked Liam, and if I'm being honest I thought Theo did too. I shake the thought from my head and turn to leave. "Shoot him up with wolfsbane and put him in the cellar." I call back to Theo. I have other priorities.

I need to find Scott.

I don't know if I want to kill him yet. It might suffice to make him live with what he made me into. Let him see my face. Let him know that I am very much alive, and that his choices made me into exactly what he swore to destroy. A killer.

I almost smile at the thought.

I need Jack to take a picture of his face when he sees me.

"Scott." I call out, wandering the halls. I can smell him, wet dog isn't the type of scent you miss. "Where are you buddy? I just want to talk." I flip my knife, catching it by the handle. My ears are open, listening to every little sound. I freeze, then smile. I look behind me, training my eyes on the shadows.

He's never been very good at hiding.

"I can see you, Scotty boy. Stop being a pussy and come out to talk."

The shadows shift, and the figure of a man emerges. I can tell without seeing his face that it is indeed Scott. His hair is shorter than I remember, but he doesn't look much older.

"What do you want?" He asks.

I put my knife away. "That's not the question you should be asking."

Scott's eyes narrow. "Enlighten me."

"All in due time, Scott." I say, only briefly wondering why he hasn't recognized my voice. My smell. My eyes. But then I remind myself that all of that has changed. My voice is deeper than it had been when we were in high school. My eyes are no longer golden-brown. And I haven't been in Beacon Hills in two years. I haven't been in my house, my room, or worn my old clothes; all of that made me who I was, and I left it all behind. I smell completely different.

"Are you with Hydra?" He asks.

"You could say that." 

Scott pauses. "How do you know me."

I smile. "I kidnapped your roommate. And tortured him." I recall. Then I realize that I never let Alec go. Not did I tell Erik what to do with him.

Scott pales. "Where is he?"

"Half dead in my basement." I raise my sharpened blade in his direction. "And you're next."