The gunshots were unrelenting. They brushed my ears and I was drowning in their echoes. The metallic bullets flew around me, unnatural birds of flight, pushing through the air; uncaring of who laid in their path. The enemy's closing in. The dings made by the barrel's sacrifice are gradually becoming louder.
Manoeuvring onto my knees for extra height, I hooked the nose of my gun on the label of the crate protecting me, took aim, ducked and fired at my unsuspecting targets. Their grunts and dull thuds told me who survived the onslaught.
A bullet got close again and I stopped. My men were shouting, but not in any language I recognised, maybe Peter picked up some new curse words. More curses slurred from the dead man's lips, Christ these guys aim well.
There was more shouting, they were angry, but God I couldn't leave her alone. What would happen to her if I did. The war wasn't going to end anytime soon and she needed my wages to help pay the rent for next month. Annie said she'd been fired from the factory because they found out. She needed that money, and if I died she would never see any of it. She needs me.
"Thompson…. Ammo pack! Thompson!" Annie? You can't be here, you can't-
The guilt and worry was overwhelming. Fuck, he can't die in the middle of enemy territory, not now. Next month, when he heard if she got a new job, he would consider letting it end, but not now. She needs him.
A bomb went off. The wall protecting his squadron was blown to shit. No cover on my nine; Mitchell better have my back, Annie needs me. She needs me.
"Everybody out!" Bullets, they zipped by and drove into the wall. He couldn't face the enemy anymore. Couldn't see the panic in their eyes- those pained eyes that mirrored his own. God I'm a coward, but Jesus do I just want to live.
"Go, go, go!" The team were scuttling off, probably to a new base camp; can't hold this place much longer, it was a pile of rubble now.
"Thompson, I said everybody!" That had to be Rotwell. He was too far away to hear properly; all the gunfire making him sound muted. That wanna-be hero. Doesn't he get it? He had to save her. She was here- no, but she wasn't, was she? It sounded like she was here a while back. I heard her voice, not many British dames this close to Okinawa, it had to be her, she threatened to come and get him and she didn't make threats lightly.
Someone touched his shoulder and he flinched. Shit, they got too close. The rocking motion he had taken shuddered into a panicked flailing.
"Thompson! Snap out of it, mate." Annie? But the accent wasn't quite right. It was almost too British, Annie's was hushed and was slighted tainted by Brooklyn.
"Come on. Get your arse into gear." Peggy? Wait- Wa-?
"I'm up. I'm up." Shit. I can't believe it. I fucking froze! Shit! Goddammit!
Leaning heavily on the butt of his gun he stood then ran through the metal hail though the hole one of the team must have made. He didn't stop running despite his dead leg. He hobbled as he ran in a not-so-quite straight line toward the open boot of the artillery truck. One of theirs.
"You alright boss?" Ramirez had a sympathetic crease to his brow and all Thompson wanted to do was punch him in the face. He was fine. Everyone freezes, right? What did the shrink at home call it, shell stop? Well anyway it didn't matter cause Dr. Brightan hasn't a clue what he's talking about- he's not crazy.
Jack grunted and nodded to him. Ramirez wouldn't say anything- it was Carter he would have to watch out for. She'd say it to Dooley- not to be a stick in the mud, but because he had seriously endangered the people on this mission with his little stunt. He coulda gotten somebody killed- not that Li and Juniper weren't his fault anyway. Another set of lives in his hands, gone. Two more names to add to his docket.
Dugan lumbered into the truck faster than he would have ever imagined of a man his size capable of, Carter steamrolling after him. Shots soared towards her from behind. The aims of the men tailing her were feeble at best, each man sporting a gushing injury of some sort, or seen favoring a limb- all with murder in their eyes and guns propped in their arms.
Aces.
"Run, Peggy! Run!" Pinkerton hollers out from his seat beside him, forcing Jack to flinch and clutch his assaulted left ear.
"Go, go, go, go!"
Peggy swung a leg over the raised bumper and was hauled through by panicked hands to be unceremoniously dumped into the bed of the truck. Winded, she pulled air in through her nose with force, that continued for several seconds until it was equally harshly expelled.
"Not bad... for a girl."
The truck grumbled and shuttered along the dirt pathway, pops sounding from the tired engine.
Jack sighed and stretched his head back with a soft groan. Giving up after three sharp bashes to the head from the uneasy surface, he looked down at the still giggling agent, sprawled across the trucks floor. Her left arm splayed between his legs and Pinkertons' beside him with her right flopped over her eyes, a huge grin on her face and her red lipstick smudged on her front teeth.
"I hate you all."
ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ
"Thank you for helping out, it was a honour." A firm handshake was shared between them, warm smiles and understanding nods respectfully given.
"Think nothing of it, pal. Make sure Peggy here stays safe now, you hear?" Dugan's grin held an edge to it, the glint in his eye was no longer friendly.
"I'll do my best." Jacks smile turned grim, his eyes hardened just a tad. Another life.
Jack, after paying his respects, lumbered onto the plane, the Dr soon following him.
"What you feel now, it will fade eventually. My advice, do not bury it." The gruff man implored him, placing a warm hand on his shoulder.
Thompson only responded with a nod of acknowledgement and gestured for the man to lead on.
Peggy eventually joined them, her lipstick fixed and a soft look on her face. She looked, for the first time in a long while, content. She sat opposite Jack and strapped in, chatting quietly to the Dr, well in truth she was yelling in his ear, but that was only to account for the noise of the engine setting off and reaching altitude when all anyone could register was the thunderous hum of the plane and the battering of the high winds against the fragile looking wings.
The flight was admittedly dull. No one had thought to bring any form of literature as the time frame for capture was limited- they had been lead to believe that Stark could leave at a moment's notice and aimed to detain him within twenty-four hours.
Ramirez and the good Dr had opted for a nap but Peggy was watching the water below rapidly go out of sight- an ever-changing shade a blue. She sat with her legs up on the seat parallel to her. This was possible due to the militant layout of the crat whereby the only seats were welded onto the sides of the plane. Her head rested on her knees and her arms gripped the edges of her war-issued combat boots, a token from her days of active duty, Jack mused.
"You alright?" Her lilted words broke the harsh engines hum, shattering his hope for a silent ride home.
"Yeah"
"You saved a lot of necks back there." She prodded.
"You saved mine" He remembered the confusion and concern in her face when she knelt down under gunfire to rouse him from his daze.
"Not bad for a code breaker." She grinned, pride and giddiness in her tone. Guess she's just happy she could prove she can handle herself, shouldn't have doubted her really.
"Pretty bad for the Navy Cross winner." He could have died. Just like that, but she helped him, she saved him. It wasn't her responsibility to do that- it was his. He left her.
"Everybody freezes sometimes. You recovered. That's the most important thing." She was firm and had manoeuvred her way over to him until she sat facing him. The look in her eyes was steel, she was telling him that she would accept nothing more than complacency in this statement, that he wasn't allowed to argue this point any longer.
"They were carrying a white flag. The soldiers that came into my camp in Okinawa..." At her confused look he elaborated, his guilt rearing up like a wild beast, as though he was forced into a corner and could do nothing but beg she would understand.
"The ones I killed. They were coming to surrender. I just didn't realize it until it was too late. I buried the flag before anyone else saw it." He looked down in disgust for himself. Why would you tell her of all people, Mrs Captain America, Lady of Truth and Justice!
"Everybody thinks that I'm this guy that I never was. And every day...It gets harder and harder to live with." The words kept spilling out of him as though he were leaking.
"I've been trying to tell that story since I came home from war." Jack confessed with a groan and a self-deprecating chuckle. He kept his head hung, already knowing his inevitable fate- Should 'ave kept my mouth shu-
"You just did."
The bull pen was hushed; all ears were trained on Dooley's office. Men braced their arms on the desks to vainly gain a vantage point, all in hope of hearing just a little bit better. Some were even bold enough to find an excuse to stroll past his office, arms laden with files, or griping steaming coffee mugs.
"Agent Li died honourably in action. It's my sworn duty as his commanding officer to deliver the condolences of the United States to his family." Jack was sombre in his delivery, there was no preamble merely the blunt truth.
"No Stark, no Leviathan." Dooley sounded almost defeated.
"No, sir."
"But Agent Carter was able to acquire intel about Leviathan from Dr. Ivchenko about the enemy's possible end game." Jack amended in hope of not admitting the trip and his comrade's lives were all for nought.
"We were able to retrieve him from a Leviathan prison." Carter amended with a stiff tone.
"He's very eager to cooperate with the SSR in any way he can." She continued, stepping forward, arms crossed and lips pursed.
"But he doesn't think Stark's connected to the Leviathan?" Dooley was gruff, tense.
"No. And I don't, either." Another step taken, she was gripping the edge of one of the chairs facing his desk now, her eyes beseeching. Dooley sighed from his side of the oak box and slumped a little more in his chair.
"Noted."
"He may not have all the information, sir. He was working off Stark blueprints. Smart money says that Leviathan got them directly from Stark himself."
"Send the doctor in on your way out." Thompson nodded and took his leave. He was not looking forward to breaking the news to Georgina, Mickeys wife. At least they hadn't had kids yet.
Ignoring his duty for a moment he went into the holding room in search of the Dr. Jack opened the door and leaned on its frame. Ivcheko sat stiffly in one of the metal chairs, arms folded rigidly across his lap. He inclined his head at the sound of the door opening but didn't meet Jacks eyes.
"The Chiefs ready to see you now. It looks good buddy, lighten up. I put a good word in for you."
Ivchenko eased himself out of his chair, it screeching on the wooden floor boards. He fixed his jacket and waddled out of the room at a steady pace favouring his right leg somewhat. Thompson pushed himself off of the frame and guided him in the direction of Dooleys office. Once he was in clear vision of it, Thompson left the Dr be and went over to his desk, collecting his belongings.
"Sousa, you coming?" He hollered over to the agent who was getting quite cosy with Carter if truth be told.
"You can buy me a drink for every red I killed." He light-heartedly teased, plopping his hat on his head with little care.
"Not tonight, Jack. Pillow's calling."
"Ah." He needs to get out more. "Come on, Carter. I owe you a bourbon.."
"I'll be right there." Her grin was blinding and Jack let the warmth he felt grow and a soft smirk took over his lips without permission as he stalked out of the office towards the elevator.
He pressed the button and waited for the tell-tale sound of her heels coming down the hallway. Most of the guys would be heading over now, it being a Friday night and all.
The elevator dinged as I heard her heel reverberating against the polished floor. I held the door lazily for her, grin plastered firmly on.
"Nice of you to join us Carter, hope we don't embarrass you too much with all our, what d'you Brits call it? Drunken de-bauch-er-eee?"
"Thank you for asking me along. Don't worry, as long as you all keep your hands to yourselves there will be no need for a scene tonight." She was smirking up at him from her side of the elevator.
"No promises."