Prologue
A/N: Hello and welcome to the beginning of what we're hoping will be an action-packed story! Although the two characters are from different times initially, both segments of this prologue will tie together.
1943
Drip. Drip. Drip.
The sound of the water splashing down on the concrete floor reverberated around the otherwise silent room. It was entirely concrete without a window in sight, and a steel door connecting the dark room to the outside world. The young woman lay on a bed in the corner of the room, brown eyes fixed to the ceiling as she listened to the sound of the water dripping from the pipe at the base of a small sink.
It had been hours since she'd given up struggling against the leather straps that restrained her against the bed. Thoughts and voices swirled through her mind. Time ticked on, and she no longer knew if she'd been there hours or days. If it weren't for the machines beside her bed, the sound of her own heartbeat in her ears would've driven her to insanity.
She glanced at the door as the metal gears ground together through the quiet room, the door squeaking on rusted hinges as a man in his early thirties in a black suit entered the room.
"Miss Andrews. It's wonderful to see that you're awake." She could hear the slight accent in voice as he looked over the machines that were hooked up to her on either side of the bed. "How're you feeling?"
Andrews…
The name was familiar to the young woman, but each time she tried to grasp the thought, it moved away from her. Her eyes darted around the room, hoping that there was something there that would help her troubled mind.
"Confused."
"That's to be expected. You have undergone some rather extreme tests." The man pulled up a chair, sitting down and clasping his hands in his lap. "My name is Leighton."
"What is my name?" The question slipped out of her mouth before she was able to stop it. Part of her was screaming to stay quiet and not speak to Leighton, but the other part of her swirled with curiosity.
Leighton leaned back in the chair, watching her intently. "Olivia."
"Olivia…" The name sounded foreign on her tongue, but she didn't disbelieve him. What reason would he have to lie to her about her name? "Where am I? What happened?"
"Your questions will be answered in time. You were in an unfortunate accident." He smiled as he spoke the words, though the smile didn't quite reach his eyes. "Go back to sleep. I will collect you in the morning."
Leighton got to his feet, fixing his suit and glancing around the room. She could see the disgust flick across his features for a split second, but she did not know if it was directed towards her or the room. She went back to staring at the ceiling as he left. She had no memory of any accidents, in fact, she felt as if she had no memory of anything. Perhaps she was suffering amnesia from a severe case of PTSD, or perhaps there was simply nothing her mind found to be worth remembering.
The lock on the door clicked shut as Leighton slid the bars across. He had not expected the experiment to go as well as it had, and it was a miracle that the young woman had survived the serum. When her mother had brought her in to be medically examined, she had been unstable emotionally and looked weak physically, leading Leighton to wonder why Zola had chosen her for the experiment. He supposed that her weakness would work in their favour, making her easier to manipulate and control should she get out of hand.
"Your little pet is awake." He announced as he strode into Zola's office. He didn't bother knocking, as Zola was used to him coming and going. Leighton was often monitoring the progress of his experiments.
"How does she look? Was the serum successful?" Zola questioned him. He was yet to visit the young woman, but already had a list of questions he desired to ask her. Especially in regards to her former life, to see how well the serum had erased her memories from her mind.
Leighton sat down in one of the lavish leather chairs, crossing his legs and resting his clasped hands on his knee.
"It seems to have been. She may need to undergo further experimentation to ensure that she remains obedient."
"She shall begin training when she is able. You will have your soldier soon enough." Zola assured him as he handed him a glass of brandy. "She will be of great use to us."
"As many of your experiments are." Leighton smiled tightly, raising the glass. "Hail HYDRA."
2014
Azra Mulligan rarely regretted stealing things. He was, after all, a master thief by occupation. However, he was beginning to think that his latest steal had been extremely bad idea, considering his pursuers. Azra hadn't really thought the item of much value, some development-stage weapon. He hadn't tested it, but that wasn't his forte. All he needed to do was market the product.
Unfortunately, this particular theft had gained the attention of a group that Azra recognised all too well. Anyone working in the criminal underground knew about the Serpent Squad. They were a trio of mercenaries and arms dealers, always dressed in all black with helmets to disguise their true identities.
Slipping around the corner and into an abandoned warehouse, Azra removed his phone from his pocket with fumbling fingers. If he could just make a call, then maybe this theft would be worth the danger he was now in. Clearly the object in his possession was worth more than he'd ever imagined, which just meant it would fetch a higher price.
Something caught Azra's wrist as he raised his phone, and he looked down to see a metallic whip coiled around his arm. With one savage yank, the phone clattered to the ground and Azra along with it. Scrambling to push himself up, Azra looked wildly around as the Serpent Squad closed in on him.
He'd never met them before.
One of them was significantly taller than the other two, certainly a bit over six feet, with broader shoulders. He brought up the rear, lingering in the shadows like he was content to let the others do the hard work. His arms were folded over his chest, and there was no doubt in Azra's mind that behind the tinted visor, he was watching his every move.
The one with the whip was leaner, built like a runner. With a flick of his wrist, the whip snapped back into his grip. It was clear that he knew how to use the weapon with a lethal efficiency, and he was definitely making no move to put the whip away.
The smallest stalked toward Azra. His small and slight build made Azra think he might be young, a teenager perhaps. Yet the way the other two simply watched made it clear that the small one was in charge here.
"Do you know who we are?" The words came out low and harsh, warped by a voice distorter. If the small one was a kid, Azra would never know. Combined with the helmets, the Serpents were utterly unrecognisable. He could have met them before and never thought twice.
"Yes." Azra's palms were sweating now. "The Serpent Squad."
"Very good. I'm Cobra, and these are my friends, Eel…" The one with the whip. "…and Viper." The tall one.
"I know what you're here for." Azra tried to keep his tone level. He was just a thief. There was risk in what he did, but no real danger. "I could do you a deal for it."
Cobra laughed. The sound was disconcerting due to the distortion. He could hear the emptiness in the noise. Although Azra was taller than Cobra, that didn't stop the guy from freaking him out.
"I don't think so. You don't even know what it is you have, do you?"
"Some kind of weapon." Azra attempted to sound confident, yet even could hear himself faltering. One of the others chuckled softly, but he couldn't tell which. "Look…here."
He was not usually the sort to handle over such things, but Azra didn't think this weapon was worth his life. These people had made an effort to hunt him down, so clearly they wanted it – badly. He reached into his pocket, however he yelped when Eel's whip lashed around his wrist. This time it was crackling with electricity, searing Azra as he shouted in pain.
"No funny business, Azra. Viper, remove the weapon."
At Cobra's command, Viper strode over and took out the weapon, a tiny device that could easily fit in his gloved hand. Eel didn't relinquish the whip even as Azra hissed curses under his breath. It was only once Viper moved across to Cobra and handed him the device that Eel flicked off the electricity and withdrew the whip, making Azra stumble again.
"Do you know who this belonged to?"
Azra shook his head fervently.
"Idiot. You steal things without knowing what they are and who owned them? You're possibly the most incompetent thief I've ever had the displeasure of meeting."
"Then tell me," Azra challenged, Cobra's insults stinging him into boldness.
Reaching up with his free hand, Cobra's fingers caught the underside of the helmet, yanking it over his head. Azra's stomach twisted in anticipation as he realised he was about to discover the identity of at least one of the Serpent Squad. Either Cobra was a fool, or he didn't believe Azra would be getting out of this alive.
She, Azra mentally corrected himself. Because Cobra was not a man at all, but a young woman, probably in her early twenties. Dark chocolate brown hair spilled out from the helmet and down past her shoulders. A pretty face with devious grey-blue eyes and a mocking smile tugging the corners of her lips. The feared Cobra was just a girl. An oddly familiar girl.
"Cobra," Viper warned, but she ignored him.
"This is a sonic taser, and it belonged to Obadiah Stane, before his death." Her voice was very different now, without the distortion. Suddenly Azra realised exactly who she was – her statement paired with her familiarity gave it away.
After Obadiah's death, his son Ezekiel had taken control of the family assets – and accomplished a very successful business of his own. On the surface, Ezekiel was a major game-changer for weapons and arms development, but there were whispers that he had some shady associations.
In his mid-forties, Ezekiel also had two kids of his own – Ophelia and Cassio. Ophelia was like her dad and enjoyed the spotlight, a known socialite. Cassio was young, still in high school, but people said he favoured his mum – she'd been a university lecturer on literature, hence her children's Shakespearian names.
This young woman didn't seem the type who attended social functions and flirted and drank expensive cocktails. There was a cold steel to her smile that made Azra certain that Ophelia was not the careless party girl the tabloids portrayed her as. He opened his mouth to state her name, but she pressed a finger to her lips. Something told Azra that the men with her weren't quite as observant and likely didn't know who she really was.
"I go by Cobra in these circles." She glanced over her shoulder at the men behind her, giving them a curt nod. Reaching into her pocket, she fished out some ear plugs and put them in her ears. "Wanna see what this can do?"
"No, wait," Azra protested, but it was already too late. Ophelia pressed a button on the device that emitted a high-pitched sound, the frequency making Azra open his mouth in a wordless cry of pain before he felt his body going numb. It seemed like the high frequency from the device was capable of causing paralysis. Ophelia watched him with a vindictive smile playing about her lips, before she reached up to tug out her earplugs, kneeling down beside Azra and tilting her head to the side.
"No one steals from my family and gets away with it. You hear me? No one."
The young woman's voice was soft and full of venom. Azra was struck by a cold clutch of fear as he realised that he'd been right to assume he wasn't getting out of this situation alive. Ophelia pushed herself to her feet and drew a gun from her belt, flicking off the safety and pointing it directly at Azra's head. She pulled the trigger with cold eyes and no hesitation.
