I had woken up in Steve's arms, disoriented and exhausted. He helps me walk as we cut through some yards stopping in the back yard of a house.
He knocks, the man from Steve's run answers and looks at us strangely. "Hey man..."
"I'm sorry about this. We need a place to lay low."
"Everyone we know is trying to kill us." I sigh.
He looks past us, "Not everyone." The man steps aside and let's us in. "I'm Sam Wilson."
"Y/N Romanoff." I shake his hand.
"You guys can go in that bedroom there. Take a shower if you need." He points.
"Thank you, Sam." Steve shakes his hand.
"It's not a problem, man."
I take a shower first, then Steve goes after me. I was sitting on the bed, drying off my hair with a towel as I stare at the ground.
"You okay?"
My head snaps up to see Steve leaning on the bathroom doorway. "Yeah." I sigh.
"What's going on?" Steve walks over and sits beside me.
"When I first joined Shield...I thought I was going straight. But I guess I just traded in the Red Room for Hydra. I thought I knew whose lies I was telling, but I guess I can't tell the difference anymore." I sigh.
"There's a chance you might be in the wrong business."
I smile, "I owe you."
"It's okay."
"If it was the other way around, and it was down to me to save your life, now you be honest with me, would you trust me to do it?" I tilt my head.
"I would now. And I'm always honest."
"Well, you seem pretty chipper for someone who just found out they died for nothing." I smile.
"Well, guess I just like to know who I'm fighting."
"I made breakfast." We both look up to see Sam. "If you guys eat that sort of thing."
After eating breakfast, Steve looks up at me. "So, the question is, who at Shield could launch a domestic missile strike?" I ask.
"Pierce." Steve nods.
"Who happens to be sitting on top of the most secure building in the world." I say.
"But he's not working alone. Zola's algorithm was on the Lemurian Star."
I cross my arms, "So was Jasper Sitwell."
"So, the real question is, how do the two most wanted people in Washington kidnap a Shield officer in broad daylight?" Steve asks.
"The answer is, you don't." Sam sets down a file.
"What's this?"
"Call it a resume." Sam crosses his arms as we open the file.
"Is this Bakhmala? The Khalid Khandil mission, that was you?" I ask. "You didn't say he was a Pararescue." I say to Steve.
"Is this Riley?"
"Yeah." Sam nods.
"I heard they couldn't bring in the choppers because of the RPGs. What did you use? A stealth chute?" I ask.
"No.These." He sets down another file.
"I thought you said you were a pilot."
"I never said pilot." Sam smiles.
"I can't ask you to do this, Sam. You got out for a good reason."
"Dude, Captain America needs my help. There's no better reason to get back in." Sam nods.
"Where can we get our hands on one of these things?" Steve asks.
"The last one is at Fort Meade. Behind three guarded gates and a 12-inch steel wall."
Steve looks at me, I shrug. "Shouldn't be a problem."
Steve and I take Sitwell onto a rooftop, Steve throws him across as we approach him. "Tell me about Zola's algorithm."
"Never heard of it." Sitwell quickly stands and backs away.
"What were you doing on the Lemurian Star?"
"I was throwing up. I get seasick." He smirks as Steve steps him to the edge. "Is this little display meant to insinuate that you're gonna throw me off the roof? Because it's really not your style, Rogers."
Steve nods and steps back. "You're right. It's not. It's hers."
I suddenly kick his chest, sending him falling off the building. "Wait. What about that girl from Accounting, Laura..."
"Lillian. Lip piercing, right?" Steve asks.
"Yeah, she's cute." I smile.
"Yeah. I'm not ready for that."
Sam flies Sitwell back up and drops him down across from us. Sitwell sits up and puts his hand up in fear as we approach him. "Zola's algorithm is a program for choosing insight's targets."
"What targets?" Steve asks.
"You! A TV anchor in Cairo, the Under Secretary 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." Sitwell yells.
"In the future? How could it know?"
"How could it not? The 21st century is a digital book. Zola taught Hydra how to read it. Your bank records, medical histories, voting patterns, emails, phone calls, your damn SAT scores! Zola's algorithm evaluates people's past to predict their future." Sitwell smiles.
"And what then?" Steve asks.
"Oh, my God. Pierce is gonna kill me."
"What then?" Steve yells.
"Then the Insight helicarriers scratch people off the list. A few million at a time."