Frostbite

Eleven

My headache had finally subsided, and I gained a good amount of my energy back. We were back in the city now, trying to keep low and not attract attention. My stunt at the post was all over the news. Hopefully, it had attracted the S.H.I.E.L.D operatives that were after us.

Jasper Sitwell was our target now, and we needed any information that we could get out of him. It hadn't been hard to track him down, and the plan was even easier to come up with. With just a little push, we were sure Sitwell would spill everything. He didn't come off as the self-sacrificing type.

Sam and Steve were in the process of directing Sitwell to the roof of a nearby building. Sam would let us know when he was in position so that we could follow and trap him up there. I'm sure he would know what we were doing, but the fear for his own life would hopefully make him compliant.

I spotted the back of Sitwell's bald head enter the building across the street from us. Once they had him in route, Steve was supposed to go ahead and wait in the building in case he tried to run, hide, or get word to anyone. Natasha had noticed him as well and tensed beside me.

"He's in the building. Y'all are good. I'll be on standby," Sam informed us over the comms.

"I'm following behind him now," Steve told us. We were already across the busy street and going through the front door.

"We're right behind you," I chirped in, following Nat through a door that led to the stairs that went up to the roof. We easily caught up to Steve, and I heard the door click just above us. All of us burst through the door and converged on Sitwell. Steve shoved him hard, making him fall over, but he rolled to his feet again.

"Tell me about Zola's algorithm," Steve demanded. We kept advancing on him.

"Never heard of it," Sitwell lied smugly.

"What were you doing on the Lemurian Star?" I barked at him.

"I was throwing up; I get seasick!" he exclaimed. Sitwell ran into the edge of the rooftop, flailing as he almost tumbled off. Steve snatched him up by his shirt, so he wouldn't fall, but he only smiled at the move.

"Is this little display meant to insinuate that you're gonna throw me off the roof? Because it's really not your style, Rogers," he smirked, seeming unfazed. I couldn't wait to see that smile wiped off of his face.

"You're right. It's not. It's hers," Steve replied, stepping aside. Natasha swiftly kicked Sitwell in the chest, sending him flying off of the roof. His screams only stayed audible for a few seconds.

"Clint still on vacation?" Steve asked Natasha.

"Yeah, he's probably in the Bahamas or something," she told him, a small smile playing on her lips.

Suddenly, Sam zoomed up the side of the building, using his wing suit. He roughly dropped Sitwell onto the roof. Sitwell held up his hands almost immediately and looked at all of us in apprehension.

"Zola's algorithm is a program...for choosing Insight's targets!" Sitwell finally admitted in fear. Wow, we didn't even have to ask again.

"What targets?" I hissed, inching closer, causing him to flinch.

"You guys! A T.V anchor in Cairo, the Undersecretary of Defense, a high school valedictorian in Iowa city. Bruce Banner, Stephen Strange, anyone who's a threat to Hydra! Now, or in the future."

"The Future? How could it know?" Steve asked perplexed. Sitwell chuckled and stood again.

"How could it not? The twenty-first century is a digital book. Zola taught Hydra how to read it," he explained, we all looked at him in confusion and he continued, "Your bank records, medical histories, voting patterns, e-mails, phone calls, your damn SAT scores. Zola's algorithm evaluates people's past to predict their future."

"And what then?" Nat inquired.

"Oh, my God. Pierce is gonna kill me."

"What then?!" Steve reiterated, grabbing onto his shirt collar.

"Then the Insight Helicarriers scratch people off the list. A few million at a time," he huffed, leaning back in defeat. We all exchanged incredulous glances. That was not what I had been expecting at all. How the hell are we going to deal with this?