Authors note: This chapter is unbeta'd and subject to change.
Furthermore, updates from here on out will be slower than they have been. I've reached a plot point that's gonna be a bit of a sonuvabitch to get to work right and needs...careful attention. Put it this way, if I get it wrong the rest of the fic goes down the toilet. With a bit of luck the chapters will be a bit longer too, but the content is the most important part. Please be patient, I really hope the payoff will be worth it.

Oh and I am aware of the events of Agents of Shield but we're just going to ignore that for the sake of plot, thanks. Call it artistic licence. Same goes for the end bit.

As always, thank you for sticking with me and for all the notifications. Makes my heart sing, so it does.

Fallout. It was the only true way to describe the feeling that radiated through the small SHEILD base. Most of it was due to the clean-up needed after the failed attempt at bringing the Winter Solider in, the disarray caused in the Smithsonian and downtown DC not long after the massive clean-up of the damage caused by Project Insight. And it was, for the most part, considered a failed mission. The Solider had vanished and all leads they may have had in tracking his whereabouts had gone with him. Weeks of work, gone in a matter of minutes.

Steve idly ran his fingers over the edge of the shield in his hands, lost in thought. No matter how many times he replayed the events of the previous days in his head, he couldn't quite figure out a way of getting through to Bucky. He thought he had, for a brief moment, back in the projector room. In a few seconds that seemed like hours, it was Bucky that looked at him and not the Solider. Then he was given a fine hairline fracture to his cheekbone. Somewhere in the fight he'd also picked up a fat lip, several bruised ribs, a torn abdominal muscle and a bruised shoulder blade. Nothing that wouldn't heal fast – they already were – but the fact that it was yet another fight ate away at him.

"I told you that you should've taken that in with you."

Steve looked up to see Sam leaning on the door frame with two cups of coffee in his hands. With a weary smile, he shook his head. "I had to at least give him the chance. If I had gone in with this he might've –"

"Kicked your ass harder?" With a teasing smirk, Sam offered one of the cups which Steve gladly took.

"I'm just thankful he did pull a few of those punches this time around. I don't fancy being put back in the hospital." Steve took a long sip and pulled a face. Sam wasn't exaggerating when he said the coffee was awful.

"Are you absolutely sure he was just trying to disable you? I mean he still got you pretty good."

"He was practically telegraphing his moves, Sam. I don't know what's going in that head of his, but he's not the same man I fought on either the Causeway or the Helicarrier."

"Well whoever he is now, he's gone to ground. We're back and square one at the whole base is…" Sam paused, making a vague hand gesture that Steve struggled to grasp the meaning of. "Well they're all kinda disappointed."

"I don't think they quite realise what it would have meant if I had brought him in. He'd need to be contained securely for one and I don't think this place has the facilities. I'm not even sure SHIELD has the facilities any more."

Steve stood, leaving his unfinished coffee on the bench he had been sat on and picking up his shield. He gave it another once-over, satisfied that only the paintwork was damaged through all the punishment it had received during the Hydra attack. He spun it in his fingers once before setting it back into the armoured cabinet. "And if I'm honest," he continued, turning back to grab his cup. "I don't know what we would do even if we did bring him in."

"I'm not sure I follow, Cap. Does this mean you want to give up?"

"No, Bucky is my friend and he needs our help. But I don't think constantly chasing him like we have been doing is helping. The closer we get, the faster he runs."

"And you don't think he's a threat?"

"To me? I don't think so. To himself…" Steve trailed off, losing himself in thought for a moment. "He's unpredictable but he will show up again. I think the best thing we can do right now is give him some breathing room."

"And hope he doesn't put a bullet between your eyes in the meantime."

"Sam…"

"I know, I know. You're convinced he won't." Same put his hands up, laughing to show he was just playing. "But at least one of us has to stay sane."

"Captain Rogers to the debriefing room, Captain Rogers to the debriefing room." The tinny little speaker in the armoury crackled at the announcement and Steve gave Sam a questioning glance. Both had given them their full reports, there was nothing left to answer.

Sam merely shrugged. "Your guess is as good as mine."

Handing the still unfinished, and frankly unfinishable, coffee to Sam, Steve exited the armoury and made his way down the corridor towards the debriefing room. Midway there, however, he was flanked by a pair of agents that matched his stride.

"Captain, sir, we've been ordered to bring you to the base director's office."

This caused Steve to slow to a stop, turning to face the agent who spoke. He was a new face, as was his partner, and considering that Steve could recognise everyone that worked in this small, understaffed base the new faces waved red warning flags. Though he would follow, the Hydra infiltration of SHIELD meant that he would have to be prepared to fight – even if the men were unarmed. "Lead on, agent."

With one agent ahead and one behind, Steve followed quietly into the place he had only once been before – the very first day he arrived. The agent in front opened the small, unassuming brown door and stepped to the side while his partner stepped and stood opposite him, hands clasped behind their backs as if they were there to guard the door.

Not letting the minor confusion show, Steve stepped inside the room. The door closed behind him but before he had chance to look a familiar voice caught his attention.

"Good to see you again, Captain."

Immediately Steve relaxed, a smile forming on his face, an understanding of the security falling into place. "Agent Hill. I thought you were working for Stark?"

"Technically I am." Maria began, smiling knowingly. "But what they don't know won't hurt them."

"Moonlighting for SHIELD?"

"It's a good cover and gives a great alibi if I'm forced to answer any more questions. And Stark has the best lawyers."

"So why are you here?"

Her smile dimmed and gestured to the vacant seat in front of the desk which Steve took swiftly. "I read the report about what happened at the Smithsonian. And that you suggested taking the pressure off finding the Soldier for a little while. Do you think that's wise, all things considered?"

"Yes ma'am." Steve nodded once, folding his hands in his lap. "The harder we push the faster he runs. We'll never catch him that way."

"Well he's your friend," her tone was sceptical as she spoke that word, "and this is your case. You call the shots on this one."

There was a brief pause as she frowned at him before reaching in to a drawer beside her. Pulling out a file, she dropped it open in front of Steve. "Shenandoah National Park. I'm sure you know it."

"I know of it, I don't remember ever visiting it."

"Well now's your chance. You probably won't get time to enjoy the scenery though." She flipped the first page over to show a pair of satellite images, the first showing what looked to be an unassuming forest clearing. The second showed the same clearing with a helicopter. A helicopter with SHIELD livery. "To answer your question, no. This is not one of our bases."

"But it is a base?" Maria nodded once. "Hydra then. Where did this information come from?"

"That's what bothers me. It came from an anonymous source."

"Well it makes a change for SHIELD to be telling me I'm actually walking into a trap, rather than letting me find out for myself. Anything else important?"

"That chopper. We managed to get an ID on it. It was the one Alexander Pierce used, we think that this base is one of the more important ones. We don't think it's big, but it'd be fair to expect heavy resistance, even with the state that Hydra's currently in."

"Understood." Steve thumbed through the rest of the file but there wasn't much left to go off of. "I'll need a team."

"I'm sorry, Cap. We don't have the people to spare." All she could do was look apologetic at the questioning –and slightly alarmed – frown that Steve gave her. She sighed, rubbing her forehead in thought. "I can give you a chopper and pilot, but this one will have to be you and Wilson. You know I'd give you a team if I could, but the FBI are still trying to nail us to the wall."

"Alright. We'll leave before dawn tomorrow."

In a quiet back alley somewhere north-east of the Potomac, sandwiched between a diner and an office block and last in a row of four, was a simple nondescript dumpster. A simple, nondescript dumpster with armour plating and a nearly unbreakable biologically encoded lock which had been fixed to the floor so that there was no way it could be moved.

Many had tried to break into it over the years, that was obvious by the scuffs and scrapes on its black outer shell. Every minor dent and deep scratch told a story but the ending was always the same. No one was able to get into it. Except for one or two who knew how to get into it. When it first appeared nearly forty years ago it had become something of a local curiosity but now it had faded into just another strange thing. Forgotten and abandoned. At least until recently,

In inky black shadows of the small morning hours, a figure in the shadows approached the dumpster and pressed their thumb to the lock. A brief light flickered along the secure seam and the lid popped open with barely a whisper.

The light inside was dim but enough for the Soldier to see by and he was just glad that Hydra had forgotten about this dead-drop site. It had been inactive for years but since the helicarrier incident it had become a lifeline. There was no way he could wander around the way he was (soaking wet or not) and the array of weapons stored was enough to drop an army. Which is just as well, as that was pretty much what his next target was.

He switched out of his civilian clothes quickly, totally unseen in the darkness of the secluded alley, and shrugged on the leather jacket he usually wore to hide his biggest give-away. The rest was routine. Grenades, knives, clips, all the usual assault mission gear. A small black box he grabbed was the locator for the base which he shoved into a pocket on his leg. Finally he pulled out a large, sleek, black case from the bottom of the dumpster, along with a roll of money which he pocketed.

Resting the case on the edge, he unclipped the catches and checked on the several weapons sat snug in their foam depressions. There was no need for the sniper rifle this time. This was going to be too close quarters for that.

Satisfied he had everything, the Soldier closed the lid of the dead-drop and listened to it lock instantly. He knew where he was going, roughly, but getting there was a different matter. He would have to be creative. He had been likened to a killing machine but that wasn't entirely true. Machines couldn't think for themselves.

He exited out the back of the alley into the diner's small parking lot and scanned the cars parked there until he found what looked to be the oldest one. As expected, it made no sound as he put his elbow through the window and popped the lock. Likewise, it was an easy hotwire and, driving casually so as not to attract attention, he exited onto the main boulevard. He knew it wouldn't be long before the owner reported the car missing and the cops would start looking, but he didn't need to car for long. He knew where he was going.

Once he located the proper route and followed the signs, it wasn't hard to keep to the main streets and keep a low profile. Even in a stolen car. As far as everyone else knew, he was just another commuter trying to get home. There wasn't that many cops around either and the one that went past didn't suddenly make a u-turn and flash him down. And with the Andrews Field Air Force Base closing fast the night felt like it was going to go easy – and considering that the second part was probably going to be tricky, the Soldier welcomed the fact that it felt like child's play.

The airfield was surprisingly easy to get onto, given the type of aircraft they were keeping there, but the Soldier wasn't about to complain. He had to avoid what looked to be manned barriers on the approach, but with the headlights off getting around them was far too easy. As usual, the military was showing itself to be utterly incompetent. But if their incompetence and poor night-time security detail made his objective easier then he'd take it. He parked the car carefully so as not to arouse suspicion, retrieving a pistol from the case and screwing a silencer onto the muzzle before snapping the case closed and exiting the vehicle with it.

The patrolling guard was dead and pulled into the shadows before he even noticed there was an intruder, and the Solider wasn't in the mood for too many unnecessary deaths. There would be enough necessary ones later.

He found what he was looking for quickly, an army helicopter left sitting there for the taking. With a cursory scan of his surroundings until he was satisfied he would be undisturbed he approached the chopper at a walk. The door was locked, of course, but the Soldier merely ripped it open. A quick electric pulse through the starter was enough to get the blades moving and the helicopter was in the air within moments.

The alarm was raised a few minutes later but by then the Soldier and his chosen transport for the night had vanished into the darkness.