As I sat, cable tied to my kitchen chair, my mouth gagged with torn up tea towel from The Smithsonian gift shop, I didn't have to ask why me? I knew exactly how I ended up in this situation, I guess I deserved it and I felt lucky to be still breathing.
Have you ever watched something so terrible happen and did nothing to try and stop it?
You can never escape a moment like that. The guilt; It's there when you close your eyes at night, its sitting on your shoulder during quiet moments of your day. It haunts your senses.
I can taste the solder fumes, they taint my morning coffee; and the smell of spent gun powder, mingled with sweat and my own fear lingers even after countless showers. I can hear the sparking of electrical current when I'm alone. And the screams; the screams are worst of all.
I am ashamed of myself. And I am embarrassed of my own stupidity in allowing myself to be so deceived.
Of course I can accuse others of their duplicity, I am one of thousands fooled. We didn't know! Impossible, how could it be true? I didn't know! I didn't know!
And I didn't know, despite being in the belly of the beast I hadn't a clue who I was really working for. Highly classified. Special weapon programme. Counter terrorism. The Asset. Top secret. I was an electrical engineering technician, in way over her depth; I'd never even been cleared for field work before. I signed hundreds of papers to swear I'd never breathe a word about what I worked on, whom and what I saw. And up until recently, I never did.
I had been comfortable working for the SHIELD research division, I felt like I was doing some good. After the battle in New York I joined the academy, straight from college and I felt valued working on tech that would help protect us from any threat. Out of the blue I was approached by Pierce to work on a Special weapon programme. I was astounded. There are people in my lab more qualified, more experienced, more talented than I. I was beyond flattered. I couldn't refuse the opportunity or the salary that came with it.
"You say in your application to the academy that you want to make a difference in the world. Help save it. You'll be making more of a difference in this programme than you ever would at your desk in research" he told me what I wanted to hear.
"What have I done to make me stand out?" I asked Pierce.
"Nothing, you're unremarkable" he replied and then. "Do you still volunteer at the prosthetics department at the VA hospital?"
"Every Wednesday" I answered.
"In what capacity?" He inquired, sitting back in his office chair.
"Bionic Prosthesis" I replied. He nodded, quietly satisfied.
"I think you'll be well suited to the programme. It'll be an opportunity for you to combine both skill sets" he informed me.
"I thought this was a weapons programme?" I checked, confused.
"It is" he clarified.
When I saw the programme, or The Asset as I learned to call him I understood.
He was the weapon. With a cybernetic arm.
I was told nothing about his identity beyond he was wounded in a combat zone, lost his left arm and that he had volunteered for an experimental weapons programme. Whoever he was he had agreed to a cybernetic prosthetic, to undergo physical training and mental conditioning for him to be an effective operative, the pivotal member of the STRIKE team.
My role within the programme was assisting in the maintenance of the 'tech'.
I was never allowed to be alone with The Asset nor was I allowed to communicate with The Asset. I was taught to think of The Asset as not existing beyond the circuitry and metal tech.
The first few times I worked on him were just maintenance runs, checking everything was in order. He was always laid back still on the chair when I was allowed into the vault and didn't move as we removed and replaced the plates, ran diagnostics. I didn't even see his face, it was always covered with a mask and goggles. He was anonymous. He didn't even seem real. Any initial apprehension I may have felt waivered. This might not be any different to the work I'd carried out back on my desk in the research lab. Then the first active assignment occurred and we waited inside the vault for The Asset to return. Things changed.
To see him in motion was something else. He became very real. He was tall and walked confidently across to the prep chair. Power and danger in every step. He looked at me although I couldn't see his face, he still wore his mask and I felt afraid as I sensed eyes behind the goggles watching me as I worked unlinking plates, my hands shaking, to allow the doctor to ensure everything was working just as it should underneath. I could feel my heart pounding inside my chest. I couldn't breathe. When Pierce arrived for a mission report I was so relieved to be ordered out of the room. I pushed open the doors to the outside, I peeled off my surgical mask gasping for air, under the watchful eye of Rollins, one of the STRIKE team.
When I returned to the room, Pierce was leaving with an array of men, those that remained seemed satisfied with the outcome of the mission. I saw that his mask was removed, I heard myself exhale loudly at seeing some of his features for the first time. A strong jaw, set firm, a little dimple on a stubble chin and his lips pressed together tight. I hovered behind Doctor Fogal while he completed the diagnostics and signed off that all was working perfectly.
"The Asset is ready to wipe" he told the room.
"Wipe?" I asked confused.
"Memory wipe. Standard post mission protocol" he replied.
"But how will he..." I paused forgetting myself. I already knew I'd never forget he was a person again. I swallowed hard and continued. "The Assset. How will The Asset recall the programme?"
"Short term memory erasure allows The Asset to recall the programme but not the particulars of the assignment" Doctor Fogal explained.
"I didn't know". I shook my head. I knew that he was listening, he sat motionless on the chair, facing straight ahead but I knew he was taking everything in.
"Is this a problem for you?" He asked, his eyes narrowing. I felt the hairs on my arms stand up, the coolness in his voice worried me.
"Ethically..." I began.
"Ethically?" he interrupted me, scoffing. "The tech you work on is designed to kill, efficiently and effectively as possible. I believe you signed away some of those ethics when you joined the programme Miss King". Fogal, shut his eyes and pursed his lips annoyed at himself for mentioning my name. That wasn't protocol. "Place this in the mouth" He handed me a gum shield. I took it and held it hesitantly in front of The Asset's face. His lips remained closed.
"I'm sorry I need you to...Could you..." I stumbled over my words and then cringed. I'd broken protocol myself by talking him to him directly. I was getting fired for sure.
"Don't bother he knows what to do", Fogal said as he tapped some commands on the keyboard. I stared at him open mouthed. He'd referred to The Asset as a 'he' too and yet Fogal remained completely detached to the human part of the tech. I shivered, wondering if that was my future.
The Asset's real arm reached forward and took the gum shield out of my hand, his wrist touching mine for a fraction of a second. The contact startled me so much I jumped backwards. I heard Rollins laugh behind me.
He put the gum shield in and sat back in the chair as it tipped flat.
"Technician, you're excused" Fogal told me and smiled. I'd always sort of enjoyed working with Fogal up until that point, he was methodical and congenial even but now I hated that smile. And that stupid bow tie.
I gathered myself and walked out of the room, escorted by a member of the STRIKE team.
When I heard the screams of pain from The Asset I kept on walking along the corridor as if I couldn't hear them. And I will always be ashamed of it.
That night I couldn't sleep, I was convinced I'd find myself thrown off the programme, fired from SHIELD. And I didn't know whether that made me afraid or relieved! In the morning I arrived at the vault as usual, my access card, fingerprint scan and codes all remained working and the metal gate doors were opened for me as they did as normal. But I saw things a little differently.
It didn't matter now though. Too late. HYDRA was exposed, SHIELD was all but gone. And I had sealed my fate the day Pierce asked if I could see him in his office.
The Asset, or James as I knew he was now, stood before me in my own kitchen. A gun on my counter top and a knife in his hands.
"King...King, Lucy King" he mused. "You left". He accused.
I nodded. It was the truth.
"I need your help" he stated. I'd done nothing so many times before, I couldn't do that now. I nodded.
James stepped forward, he placed the knife edge to my throat. Terrified, I shook and tears became to form. He sniffed in derision and sliced the tea towel gag off me. And involuntary shriek escape from my lips and his metal hand clasped over my mouth muffling my cries.
"Don't, don't do that. If I wanted you dead, you'd be dead" he whispered. I tried to swallow my fear, took a moment to steady and I nodded my head again. He released his hold.
"You...remember...me?" I stuttered.
"I remember you" he said simply, his blue eyes not breaking contact with mine.
"What do you need?" I asked.
"You're my technician" he replied.
"You need help with your arm?"
"That's where we'll start".