Chapter 29 - Rachel Stark
As the bright pink bubble snaps, I raise an eyebrow. Steve spins on his heel and grabs my arm so fast I can't process what's happening. He pushes me across the hall and through a doorway, causing me to shuffle backward in order to keep my balance. The anger in his eye flares as he pushes me against the wall, creating a pretty loud thud.
"Where is it?" he says through gritted teeth. I raise my eyebrows. I knew he was the only one dumb enough to leave this thing out in the open.
"Safe," I say, keeping my face stoic. His nostrils flare.
"Do better," he says, his face inches from mine. I take a deep breath to compose myself, preparing to ask him all the questions I had thought of while I was waiting.
"Where did you get it?" I ask, my eyes searching through his. They give me nothing, shocking me. I can usually read Steve like a book, but today something is different.
"Why would I tell you?" he says.
"Why wouldn't you tell me?" I challenge, making a face. This whole bad cop routine doesn't suit him. His lack of trust in me is astonishing. Two can play at this game, and I am ready to go full interrogation on his ass. "Fury gave it to you, why?" I ask, searching his face for a second time. Once again, nothing is revealed.
"What's on it?" he demands. I sigh, the frustration already bubbling up inside of me.
"How should I know, I wasn't the one that hid it in a vending machine," I say. Just as the last words escape my mouth, he pushes my shoulders into the wall again.
"Stop lying," he says, gritting his teeth again.
"I only act like I know everything Cap."
"Don't call me that here," he says, his annoyance with my sarcasm getting the better of him. "I bet you knew Fury hired the pirates, didn't you?" I pause, processing the information. I didn't know that, but I make sure my face doesn't give that away.
"Well, it makes sense. The ship was dirty, Fury needed a way in, so did you." I say, still playing a game.
"I'm not gonna ask you again," he says, his hands tightening their grip around my shoulders.
"I know who killed Fury," I say, hoping the shock value of my statement would cause him to let me go. It didn't, but he did loosen his hands slightly. As soon as he gave me the ops of the shooter, I knew exactly who it was. "Most of the intelligence community doesn't believe he exists. But the ones who do, call him the Winter Soldier. He's credited with over two dozen assassinations in the last 50 years." I whisper, fear finding a home in my tone.
"So he's a ghost story," Steve says, calming down. He lets go of my shoulders and I sigh in relief. I roll out my arms as I continue.
"When I first joined S.H.I.E.L.D., Natasha and I were escorting a nuclear engineer out of Iran. Somebody shot out the tires near Odessa. We lost control, went straight over a cliff. I pulled us out. But the Winter Soldier was there. I was covering my engineer so he shot him," I pull up my shirt to show him the scars on my stomach. "right through me." As I flash him my oldest bullet scar, his eyes wander sadly to the other two new ones that now permanently mark my stomach. "No rifling," I pause. "Bye-bye bikinis."
"Yeah, I bet you look terrible in them now," he says sarcastically. The smirk on my face hides my racing heart as I lower my shirt. I take a deep breath, recomposing myself.
"Going after him is a dead end. I know, I've tried. Like you said," I hold up the flash drive for him to see. "he's a ghost story." Steve's stance relaxes even more when he sees the flash drive in my hand.
"Well, let's find out what the ghost wants," Steve says.
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"First rule of going on the run. Don't run, walk." I say as we walk through a nearby mall. I had suggested going to a more discrete location after Steve told me about being attacked in the elevator at the Triskelion. Whatever information we are sitting on is really important.
"If I run in these shoes, they're gonna fall off," he comments. I smile over at him, checking out his new outfit.
"I never did get the chance to ask, but where did you get that getup?"
"Oh you know, a little here and there." I laugh and shake my head at him. We make our way through the busy mall, swerving between people as we try to get to the Apple Store. We cross through the entrance and make our way over to the newest model of laptop. Steve's head is on a swivel scanning the store, probably looking for any STRIKE team members.
"This drive has a Level Six homing program, so as soon as we boot up, S.H.I.E.L.D. will know exactly where we are," I inform, getting the computer ready to accept the drive.
"How much time will we have?" he asks, still searching the store.
"Um, I'd say about nine minutes from..." I plug in the drive. "Now."
I start my hack, sifting through the password protocols and standard security measures easily. I search for any file that could give me some sort of idea of what I am looking at. Nothing catches my eye until I see a file labeled "Lemurian Star". My stomach turns in excitement as I try to open it. Nothing happens for a few seconds. I try again to open some of the other files, all unsuccessful.
"Fury was right about that ship. Somebody's trying to hide something. This drive is protected by some sort of AI. It keeps rewriting itself to counter my commands." I say, still trying to override the AI. It continuously shuts me out, even taking me back to the basic opening commands.
"Can you override it?" Steve asks, very tensely. I sigh in frustration, quickly looking around the store for any potential threat. I turn my attention back to the screen.
"The person who developed this is slightly smarter than me. Slightly." I say. Steve chuckles dryly. "I'm going to try running a tracer. This is a program S.H.I.E.L.D. developed to track hostile malware, so if we can't read the file, maybe we can find out where it came from." I tell him as I try finding the physical source of the coding.
"Can I help you guys with anything?" someone asks, causing my fingers to freeze. Steve and I both whip around and face the Apple employee who just spoke to us. I throw a lazy smile on my face and quickly think of something believable to say.
"Oh, no," I say with a smile. "My fiancée was just helping me with some honeymoon destinations," I say, putting my hands on Steve's shoulders. I feel his shoulders relax under my touch as he tries to continue the lie.
"Right. We're getting married." Steve says awkwardly. I threw a quick glance at the computer, seeing that the trace was about 75% complete.
"Congratulations, where are you guys thinking of going?" the man asks. This man will not leave.
"Um," Steve's lie falters as he looks at the screen. I look too, seeing the screen starting to zoom in on a location. The tracer finished. The tech came from... "New Jersey," Steve says. I zone back in on the computer, running a second trace to get a more precise location.
"Oh," he says with soft surprise. I turned my head to see why the man was still there after hearing the conversation die out. The guy is studying Steve's face really closely. We're done for. I turn back to the computer, trying to get the location before this guy asks for a picture or something. "I have the exact same glasses." the guy says. I take a deep breath and slow down, being more careful as the second trace is running.
"Wow, you two are practically twins," I remark, smirking at the screen.
"Yeah, I wish. Specimen." the guy says. I laugh a little, turning my head to the side in agreement. I feel Steve's attention flip to me. "If you guys need anything, I've been Aaron," he says, flashing us his name tag before he leaves.
"You said nine minutes," Steve says, shifting his weight between both feet. His worry is radiating off of him, causing me to get anxious.
"Relax," I say, trying to calm myself as well as Steve. I type a few more commands to finish up the second trace and the location finally flashes across the screen. "Got it," I take a step back and look up at Steve as he leans over to get a better look. I watch his eyes flash in recognition. "You know it?" I ask.
"I do, you should too. Let's go," he says, taking the drive out of the computer and burying it deep in his pocket. I lead him out of the store and back into the mall. I look both ways, trying to remember the way out. I take a right and look ahead, seeing members of the STRIKE team.
"Standard TACK team. Two behind, two across, and two coming straight for us. If they make us, I'll engage, you hit the south escalator to the metro." Steve instructs, causing me to lose track of my own plan.
"Shut up and put your arm around me. Laugh at something I said." I say, keeping my head down.
"What?"
"Do it," I say forcefully, still walking directly at the two STRIKE members. He throws his arm over me and starts to laugh, making me smile. Once the men pass, he removes his arm quickly. His pace starts to slow, not recognizing where we are in the mall. I wave him along, trying to get him back to my side. I lead Steve onto the escalator, slowly pulling us back to the ground level of the mall. With Steve behind me, I take point, sweeping my eyes over the faces of the people on the escalator moving up. I tense up as I watch Rumlow board the approaching escalator.
"Kiss me," I mumble, turning around to face Steve.
"What?" Steve asks, his eyes flashing in panic and something else.
"Public displays of affection make people very uncomfortable," I justify, staring intently into his eyes.
"Yes, they do," he rambles, leaning down to kiss me. His lips meet mine, creating a little spark in my chest. With full awareness that this is purely for survival, I let myself feel. I allow myself to be taken back to the day in the hospital when we kissed for the first time. My stomach erupts in butterflies, causing my face to flush red. Adrenaline courses through my veins, almost fogging my brain. I quickly remember where we are, opening my eyes to check Rumlow's location. With him safely past us, I gently pull back, taking my hand off of the back of Steve's neck. I take a deep breath, regaining my composure and pulling my feelings back in check. I am the first to break eye contact as I turn around to walk down the rest of the stairs.
"You still uncomfortable?" I ask over my shoulder.
"That's not exactly the word I would use," he says, catching up to me. I smirk over at him when he makes it to my side again. We leave the mall with a tense silence hanging over us. We make it out alive, meandering our way around the car park. We scan the windows of a bunch of cars, looking for any of them that are unlocked. After what felt like 20 minutes, we found a truck with the doors open. I pull on the handle, hopping into the passenger seat. Steve gets in the driver's side and starts doing something.
"What are you doing?" I whisper. Steve shushes me and keeps fiddling.
"Just keep your head down," he says as the engine revs to life. We quickly make our way out of the mall lot and onto the highway. Once we make it a good distance away from D.C., I throw my feet up on the dashboard, letting the sun warm my calves. We ride in silence for a few hours, the only exception being me humming every once and a while.
I watch Steve as he drives. It took me about an hour for me to realize why it looks so strange. I have only ever known him to drive his bike around. I am the only one who drives my car. He is very casual about it, either resting one arm next to mine on the center console or his hand on the stick. The other has a gentle grip on the wheel, steering us gently. I study his side profile as we go along, running my eyes down his nose and across his jaw. He catches me a few times, glancing slightly to the side. I take my attention away from him quickly looking out the window. We drive like this for three hours, not letting a word pass between us.
"So... Where exactly did Captain America learn to hotwire a car?" I ask, breaking the long silence. I have a small smirk on my face, curious to hear his answer.
"Nazi Germany," he states matter-of-factly, shifting his position in the seat.
"Mmm," I hum in acknowledgment, keeping my eyes on his face.
"And we're borrowing, take your feet off the dash," he says with a slight smirk and a side glance. I smile, slowly pulling my shoes off of the dashboard. I shift my weight to my left thigh, turning my body towards him.
"Alright, I have a question for you."
"Shoot," he replied, looking over to me again as he answers.
"Why have you been so mad at me these past few days?" I ask, keeping my eyes trained on him. I watch as he shifts again in his seat.
"That bad, huh?" he asks.
"I mean, you did throw me against a wall," he looks over to me quickly, an apologetic look on his face. I smile gently back. "No worries, I've had worse." He sighs, uncomfortable with my statement.
"I am sorry about that," he says, "I'll never do it again."
"I mean, it was kind of... passionate. I've never seen your temper like that before," I mention, turning my attention out of the window. My mind wanders slightly, drifting to a place of fantasy. I think about Steve pushing me up against a wall and kissing me, passion hanging in the air. My cheeks turn beet red.
"Well, I usually don't have a reason to do something like that," I snapped out of my thought, my stomach turning over in anticipation. I blink the haze out of my eyes, turning my attention back to him. "I think I was mad at you at first when you didn't tell me about Peggy. And then at the hospital, you turned your line of questioning on me. You were there in the apartment with me. You saw everything I did. Then, you took the hard drive which was my only lead to figure out what Pierce was telling me at S.H.I.E.L.D."
"I am sorry about Peggy," I say, my eyes softening. "You did have a right to know. I guess I just felt protective of the information. I don't know. I felt sick at the museum while I was watching you think about her. Telling you where she was felt like I would have to share you with her and I guess I got jealous..." I look over to Steve, the color draining from my face when I realize what I've admitted to. He slowly takes his eyes off of the road and they lock with mine. "I don't know," I say, desperately trying to change the subject. Steve looks back out to the road. "I just can't shake this feeling that we are on unstable ground. Ever since New York, I feel like there is more coming."
"Rach-"
"No, I'm serious. That whole day messed with my head. I never signed up to fight aliens. I feel like the whole world is about to crash around us at any second." Steve keeps driving, looking forward. Finally, he sets his jaw.
"Why haven't you told me any of this?" He asks, softer than I expected. His eyes still don't meet mine.
"You had so much going on..."
"No," he says, cutting me off. "Don't blame me for doing my job Rachel. You didn't tell me because you don't trust me anymore." Steve says.
"Something has changed between us, Steve. You have to feel it too..." my thoughts are cut off by my phone beeping. I look down at the screen. The map alert is pulled up, telling us to pull off the highway. "Take this exit; we're here."