We made our way back to D.C. Steve did his best with the... Bomb... Episode... He was so focused on saving us from the falling rubble he wasn't focused on... Because I know that if we weren't there he'd be... You know.
"Hey, how are you holding up?" he asked. I sent him a small smile, which he returned. "You know what it reminded me of?"
I shook my head. "The crash."
I forgot that would be his most traumatic experience. Brushing hands with death. "Just the noise and the... You know."
And unfortunately, I do know.
"I just wanted to remind you that you can talk to me," Steve said, glancing over. He does these little things that just make it seem like he cares. Taking his eyes off the road for a few moments, reaching for my hand, toying with my hair... These little things are calming and he knows it. And I appreciate it. "If anyone understands, it's me. And if you don't want to talk to me, you have the other MUTTs. You have Emerson."
I glared at him, too emotionally drained to do anything else. We got to Sam's place. However the hell Steve got it. After we woke Nat up, we found his place. He opened the door, surprised at our random appearance. "Hey, guys..."
"I'm sorry about this," Steve apologized. I gave him a sympathetic smile. "We need a place to lay low."
"Everyone we know is trying to kill us," Nat muttered.
"Not everyone."
He let Steve and Natasha sort themselves out. I talked with Sam while making breakfast. I left a pistol on the counter. "Yeah, what the hell?"
"XHR Protocol."
"And that means... ?"
"That she was a victim of mind-melting brainwashing." I turned to find a familiar face in the kitchen. "I'm late for work so I have to bounce."
"Jess, this is-"
"The S.H.I.E.L.D. therapist."
"You really never forget a face."
"You two..." I continued to stare at Dr. Wilson. "You're brother... It's him?"
"Unfortunately."
"Do you two... Know each other?"
"Yes. She's one of my first cases with them." She grabbed keys from a drawer. "And would you care to explain why S.H.I.E.L.D. fugitives are in the house?"
I cursed in Russian. "How do you know?"
"They asked me to work with you and your brother once they brought you in- What's going on?"
"Aren't you late?" Sam snapped at his sister, giving her that trademark Sibling Look. Dr. Wilson sat down, bending over to grab something on the floor. There was a clicking noise and then she straightened up, an object was dropped on the counter with a thump.
"Problems with my prosthetic."
"You were medically discharged."
"I'll... Uh... Leave you two to it," Sam muttered, walking out of the kitchen as I continued breakfast.
"What's going on at S.H.I.E.L.D.?"
"Hydra... They..."
"Reemerged?"
"More like leeched off of S.H.I.E.L.D." She knew more about me than anyone at S.H.I.E.L.D. Scary, yes. But she seemed... I don't know... Trustworthy. I explained what we learned. "The world's going to know me for me."
"But...?"
"But if they have to know that to get rid of Hydra... Is it really that bad?" I asked. I didn't expect an answer. I said it out loud for myself. How bad would it be to stop lying to everyone I know and... Just deal with the repercussions of my actions?
"I have to go before they haul my ass in and find you guys here," Jessica said, attaching her prosthetic leg. "But you'll do the right thing. Never at the cost of anyone but yourself. And a word of advice? Don't be afraid to reach out to Captain Rogers."
"Yes, ma'am."
She smiled and limped away. Her knee down was all prosthetic. "Looks like someone finished breakfast."
"Yeah, oops."
He went to get Steve and Nat. We filed into the dining room and explained the whole ordeal to Sam. Including me. "So the question is: Who at S.H.I.E.L.D. can launch a domestic strike?"
"Pierce," I said. I frowned. "Who just so happens ti be on top of the most secure building of S.H.I.E.L.D."
"He can't be working alone. The Algorithm was on the Lemurian Star," Steve pointed. Nat and I gave each other a knowing look.
"So was Sitwell."
"So the question is how do three of the most wanted people in Washington kidnap a S.H.I.E.L.D. officer in broad daylight?"
"The answer is: You don't." Sam placed down a packet. I reached for it, flipping through.
"What is it?"
"Let's call it a resume."
"Is this Bakhmala?" Nat asked, apparently aware of this mission. "The Khalid Khandil mission, that was you?"
"Is that... Is that Riley?" I asked. I remember Jessica talking about him.
"Yeah."
"I heard they couldn't bring in the choppers because if the RPGs. What? Did you use a stealth chute?"
"No, these." He placed down a picture of these jet pack wing things.
"I can't ask you to do this," Steve said.
"I won't let you do this," I muttered. "Sam, you and Jessica got out good for a reason."
"Guys, Captain America and the brilliant tactical genius Colonel Rogers needs my help. There's no better reason to get back in."
I opened my mouth to explain, but Steve glared at me. It was like we had an argument with our eyes. I lost. I sighed in resignation. "Where can we get one?"
"The last one's at Fort Meade. Behind three guarded gates and a twelve inch steel wall."
"Sounds easy enough."
!
I shoved Sitwell, aggressively forcing him to the ground. "What were you doing on the Lemurian Star?" I hissed.
"I was throwing up. I get seasick."
"Bullshit," I hissed, letting Steve take the wheel. "Hydra doesn't get seasick."
"You remember well, Maurer."
I growled. Steve got more agressive, shoving him until he was at the edge. "Is this little show supposed to insinuate that you're going to throw me off the roof? 'Cause it's really not your style, Rogers."
Steve smiled, letting him go. "You're right." He looked at me. "Wrong Rogers." I kicked him off the roof without hesitation or remorse. Sam came back, with Sitwell, and dropped him on the roof.
I knelt down, sarcastically whispering, "Want to talk now?"
He explained that it was a program to decide Insight's targets. He listed these people, including the neurosurgeon Stephen Strange and Dr. Banner from the Initiative. Anyone who poses a threat to Hydra. Typical. Now or in the future. The 21st century is a digital book and Zola learned how to read it. Evaluating the past to predict the future. Perfected after I backfired to ensure it doesnt happen again. "What then?"
"Dear God, Pierce is going to kill me."
"What then?" I asked again. "Before I throw you off the roof again."
"Then the Insight carriers scratch people off the list. A few million at a time."
"Can I?" I asked, looking at the other three.
"You killed Schmidt. Kill another Hydra leader-"
I grabbed his wrist and wrenched in behind his back. He muttered "ow" at least a couple hundred times. "I'm done with the murder streak. I'm here to kick your ass." I threw him into the backseat, sitting behind Sam in the driver's seat. Nat was on the other side of Sitwell while Sam and Steve were in the front.
"Do they know?" Sitwell asked. Steve glared at him from the passenger seat.
"Agent Romanoff, yes. He doesn't."
"What... What do I not... Not know?"
"You know, Hydra doesn't like leaks."
"Then stick a cork in it then," Sam snapped, ignoring or forgetting what he didn't know.
"It says it's launching in sixteen hours. We're kind of getting a little bit close here," Nat remarked.
"Yeah, I know."
"I'm going to assume we're using him to bypass DNA scanners and all that crap to get to the helicarriers directly?"
"Are you crazy?" Sitwell asked. "That's a terrible, terrible idea-"
I swear I blinked and Sitwell was roadkill. I was one inch from having a broken neck thanks to my own second-in-command. Nat and I had two different ideas. She went to cover the two and I went straight to shooting the roof. Sam braked, causing the Winter Soldier to fly off. Another car plowed into us. I'm not a person easily affected by adrenaline or high-stress situations. But I was hardly keeping up. I just wasn't ready to face this particular problem yet.
By the time I caught up, I was running with Natasha. I loaded my handler pistol with a paralyzer. "What's that?" I shot him, causing him to slump down. "Helpful."
We continued to sprint away. "Okay, what the hell."
"Ooh, we really pissed Hydra off," I muttered. The Winter Soldier was a horror only given to those who really pissed of the Handler and for critical missions. Great to know we received that honor.
She must have saw him, because she dashed and started doing her crazy acrobatic crap. He threw her off, so I lunged next. I used the whip to tie his legs together, fighting like that but he was good. He grazed my head, shot my arm. I continued until I couldn't.
He's out of control.
I'm going to pay for this, one way or another. "Sergeant Barnes, stand down!" I barked in Russian. He seemed to stop, for two seconds between shooting Nat and Steve attacking him. I ran to Nat, letting Steve deal with him. I was applying pressure to the wound, carefully watching for others until I noticed Steve's shield was jammed in a van. I handed mine to Nat and tried dislodging it, and when I did I threw it at Steve. I got distracted by the pocketknife Barnes was using. His mask fell off. And for the first time in slightly under a century, Steve saw his best friend.
Nat used some RPG to get rid of him. Steve looked at me and I gave him the sympathetic "My Bad" shrug. "I have a lot of explaining to do."