Thank you to everyone who read/reviewed my Steggy one-shot! Reviews are my life, so I really appreciate them. Please leave a comment telling me what you think of this new story! It's going to end up being fairly long – I'm not exactly sure how long yet though. This is my first attempt at a fic that is something other than a one-shot. This first chapter is mostly technical details, but you'll see some action soon. ;) Hope you enjoy!

DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of the characters except General August Morrison, Lieutenant Petrie, and Agent Ragan Courtenay. Everything else belongs to Marvel.

~Xx

It was November of 1989, four long decades into the Cold War. Washington, D.C. was crowded, as always, but the war had been hard on the people. The train station lacked its usual busy noise, and the quiet people that hurried through the station were thin and haggard, and their faces lacked friendliness.

Agent Nicholas Fury noted all of this as his sharp, dark eyes scanned his fellow travelers. A dirty looking old man smoking a cigar caught Fury's glance and warned him in no uncertain terms that he should mind his own business.

So it was with relief that, a few minutes later, Fury found himself in a sleek, black car on the way to a military base located in the city. Then, his door was opened and he stepped out to be greeted by a saluting soldier. Agent Fury's espionage work with the CIA was well known in several parts of the world, but especially in America.

"Thank you, Private," Fury said, acknowledging the soldier. "But there really is no need."

"Shall I bring your bags, Agent Fury, sir?"

Fury nodded. "Thank you." He was met inside the large, chilly building by a Lieutenant Petrie. Petrie then escorted Fury personally to General August Morrison's office.

General Morrison rose from his desk as soon as the door opened. "Welcome, Agent Fury. Thank you for coming on such short notice."

Fury shook the man's hand solemnly. "Not a problem, General. In fact, arriving at meetings on short notice is probably in my job description somewhere." General Morrison chuckled at that.

"Shall we get down to business?" They settled into chairs and Morrison handed Fury a thick folder. "We have run into a problem."

Fury opened the folder and frowned when he saw what was written on the first page. General Morrison began to talk him through the documents.

"A couple of days ago, on November 22nd, we were transporting an extremely lethal bomb from the States to an underground base in a confidential area of Vietnam. The weapon is called the Vesuvius. It was designed by Howard Stark of Stark Industries and has the potential to level a city of about 250,000 square miles, which is roughly the size of Texas, if you needed a visual."

Fury stared at the General. "250,000 square miles? The most powerful bomb I've ever heard of could only cover about 2,500. Pardon me, General, but I can't tell if you're joking or not."

"I'm not joking. Unfortunately, as it turns out. We were transporting the Vesuvius across the North Pacific Ocean via cargo ship, but somehow, in was intercepted by the Russians. All of the men and crew aboard the ship lost their lives trying to keep it safe.

"When Stark was designing and building the bomb, he installed several fail safes in case it landed in the wrong hands. Only he knows what and where these are. Unfortunately, the Soviets discovered this and sent a team to abduct Stark from his vacation home in Mexico. They were successful."

Fury snorted. Everyone knew how Stark was with his vacation houses. If the billionaire had been at home in New York, where security was more, well, secure, he'd probably still be making weapons of mass destruction in his basement for fun.

"I'm sure you can see how serious this situation is, Agent Fury," Morrison said, giving him a look. Fury straightened his face out.

"Indeed I can, sir."

"The Soviets are probably trying to torture information out of Stark as we speak. If they are successful, well, I don't need to tell you the cost."

"So, what is my mission, exactly?" Fury asked, flipping through the files.

"We want you to get into the Russians' base, find Stark and get him out if he's in good enough shape, eliminate the possibility of the Soviets using the Vesuvius by bringing it back or eliminating it, and if possible, finding a way for us to get some men inside."

Fury raised an eyebrow. "So, basically, you want me to solve all your problems."

Morrison shrugged in embarrassment. "You won't be doing it alone. We're also sending another spy agent, Agent Ragan Courtenay, so you'll have some help. We realize that you normally work alone, but we decided that, giving the risk of the mission, it would be better if you had a partner on this one."

"Thank you for your thoughtfulness," Fury said sarcastically. The truth was, he hated working in a team. Especially if this "team" consisted of a literal stranger.

"We have you scheduled on a passenger flight to Kalinovka, Kazakhstan, so you won't draw attention in a private jet. From there, you'll take a jeep to Tara in Russia. That's where the base is located. The exact position is listed on the second page of the folder that I gave you."

"Sounds great," said Fury, rising. "Is there anything else I should know?"

"One other thing. We had to send you so quickly because we're pretty sure that the Soviets are planning something big. Some of the most dangerous assassins in the world have come together and congregated on the base that you're heading to. So there is a distinct possibility that you could be attacked on the way before you even reach the base."

"Tell me something I didn't already know," Fury said. "You forget: I'm used to this kind of thing. Been attacked a lot in my day."

"Wonderful. Get your things together – your flight takes off in five hours."

Hope you liked it! Like I said earlier – feel free to leave a review. Your opinions/concrit is really appreciated by this writer.

~Xx