Well, here goes. My first Fan-fiction's first chapter. This starts what I hope will be a long list of stories featuring my favorite characters. Just a few notes: Stryker is in no way related to Marvel's William Stryker. She is a character that I created. This story will contain Bucky Barnes, but there's no character button for him (at least not that I can find).

December 31. 10:47 am.

I woke up and didn't know who I was, where I was, how I got there, or why I was lying on a hospital bed. I turned my head. A steady 'beep' emanated from the machines to my left. The green line on the electrocardiogram machine spiked regularly, and the IV line shifted as I moved. Suddenly terrified of what these unidentified people were pumping into me, I tore the IV out of my arm.

The machines set up a furious beeping as I set about tearing myself free from their confinement. A woman who I assumed was a nurse rushed into the room, saw me, and ordered me to lay back down. She was followed by two other nurses and a doctor. There were no windows. The door was my only option for escape.

I charged them, sweeping things off the table, and the startled nurses jumped out of the way. The doctor remained in the doorway, arms out in front of him as if to stop me. As. If.

I feinted to the left, and he moved to follow me. His slight step over left him unbalanced, and I switched back to the right, shoving my arm into his side. He made a sound of pain as I hooked my foot around his ankle and sent him crashing to the floor. All while I was running out the door.

The hallway wasn't long. I took a left and sprinted past several other hospital rooms, and around a corner. A window. I need to find a window. I came to a T in the hallway and looked down both ways. Guards. Armed guards, from both directions. Crap.

They'll yelled as I turned to run back down the hall I had come from, deciding that a couple of doctors would be easier to subdue, but a tall, silver-haired man was coming around the corner. He stopped when he saw me. I kept running, sliding the scalpel I had grabbed off the table into my grip. This was still easier than going after the guards behind me.

"STAND DOWN, AGENT STRYKER!"

Unwillingly, I froze, every muscle in my body suddenly stiff, my back ramrod straight. I couldn't move, not a finger. I struggled to draw in breath as my body panicked, trying to escape the sudden paralysis.

"Commander Kane?" One of the guards behind me asked, his voice low and deadly.

"We're good here," the man in front of me, Commander Kane, I guess, said. "Dismissed."

The guards left quietly. I was alone in the hallway with the Commander, save for one doctor peering nervously around the corner. Kane looked me over, nothing escaping his sharp gaze. Not the hospital gown I was wearing, or the scalpel I had gripped in my hand. He gently pried it out of my frozen grip.

"Now, we'll have no more fighting, Agent." He said quietly, his voice oddly soothing. "You're safe. Merken, Agent Stryker."

My head suddenly cleared, as if a cloud I had not realized was there suddenly lifted, allowing me to see and think clearly. I remembered everything: who I was, where I was, what had happened.

"At ease, Agent Stryker."

My muscles relaxed, and I flexed my fingers, no longer gripped by panic. "What happened, sir?"

"You were injured after your last mission. Your plane was shot down. You've been in a coma for several weeks."

I didn't feel like I had been in a coma, but the doctors here were very good. I also didn't remember my plane getting shot down. Plane? My last mission had been here in New York...I never flew anywhere...and then there was that man...the one that had been so famil-

A sudden intense, burning, awful pain ripped through my head. For a moment my vision went white, and I cried out and fell forward onto my knees, head in my hands. For an eternal moment there was nothing but pain.

I opened my eyes, my vision still spotty. My lungs screamed for air, and I released the breath I didn't realize I was holding, taking great drags of air as I tried to recover from whatever had hit me. Groaning, I pulled myself up, using the wall for support. Kane didn't offer a hand.

"You need to learn to control that," he said after I dragged myself up to stand in front of him again. "You know this happens when you think about certain events. Learn to read the warning signs of an attack, and derail whatever train of thought you are on. Understand?" There was no concern in his voice. It was just the cold, hard voice of a man who expected to be obeyed.

"Yes, sir."

"Go get dressed. Meet me in the briefing room in 15 minutes. I have a mission for you."

Still wobbly, I started for my room. The base was large and confusing, but I knew it well. I moved like a ghost, people moving aside for me, never meeting my eyes. They knew what I was, and it terrified them.

My room was a discreet door in an unpopulated hallway on the third floor. People were not comfortable sleeping or working near me. I unlocked my door via the thumbprint scanner and stepped inside. It was not much, and it was not home. A single bed sat pushed against the window, too small for even me to slip out of. There was one overhead light, and a set of drawers. A door opened onto the small bathroom. I set the second scalpel I had grabbed while escaping the infirmary on the table by the door.

Hanging behind the door was my uniform. Black pants and a black shirt, laced through with a form of Kevlar. Sturdy black combat boots, steel toed. All untraceable, custom made by a man I knew to be dead. I threw on the black jacket, also laced through with Kevlar, and covered inside and out in special pockets. The rest of my uniform was in the armory. Pulling back my light brown hair into a messy ponytail, I left the room.

I was in the briefing room less than a minute later. Kane sat at the table, watching me come in. A manila file folder labeled 'CONFIDENTIAL' in big red letters sat in front of him. I stared at it, wondering whose face it would contain.

"Sit down, Stryker." Kane's grey eyes never left me. He pushed the file toward me; I opened it, staring at the face as Kane started talking.

"He's in D. C. Tonight, he'll be at a New Year's celebration at the White House, on the detail of this man." Kane reached over and flipped to a page in the file, showing me a picture of a tall, African American man wearing a long leather coat and an eye patch. "You're to take this bodyguard out with extreme prejudice, then get back to the rendezvous point. A helicopter will fly you out there in half an hour, so you may begin planning and setting up."

I didn't move, staring in confusion at the picture.

"Something wrong, Stryker?"

"No, sir. It's just…" I gently tapped the picture of the man I was going to kill, the red star on the man's silver arm. "He's one of ours."

OK, I know what you're all thinking. "Where are the other people she promised?!" I'm not lying to you, I swear! They'll all show up soon, like next chapter soon. I should have the next chapter by next Friday, but I'll put it up as soon as it's finished.

Please comment! I want to know what y'all think :) Thanks!