Okay QuirkyRevelations, I updated. You can stop bugging me.

Recap:

Director Fury sighed and looked at Becky solemnly. "Miss Sherman, you won't be doing him or yourself any good by going to Afghanistan. You'll only jeopardize the mission and your well-being. I'm sorry, but I say this for your own good." Fury turned away from Becky to speak to the rest of the group. "As for the rest of you, go home and try not to worry yourselves sick. Agent Romanoff, please escort Miss Sherman out."

A wave of sorrow and frustration came crashing down on Becky's heart, letting the ocean of guilt momentarily swallow all that she was. Becky sighed, lifted her chin a little, and strode behind Natasha with an air of unperturbed determination. She was wiling to fight for this until the end.

The quinjet stood majestically on its pedestal as it waited patiently for its passengers to climb aboard. Hidden in the cloak of night, a figure watched as the SHIELD agents lined up in front of Black Widow. The figure fell into step with the other agents, letting herself be swallowed by the group of undercover agents. She slid the visor of her helmet over her face like the others, hoping that Natasha's harsh green glare would pass over her.

"Let's review the plan, agents," began Black Widow as she walked down the aisle between the spies. "You are already wearing the guise of Afghan guards, so initially infiltrating the base should be relatively easy. Remember, volatile men will be on all sides, watching you carefully. Therefore choose your words carefully and never draw attention to yourself."

Natasha paused in front of Becky, whose heart was expanding with anxiety like an inflating balloon.

The Black Widow breathed deeply as she thought of the words about to pour from her lips.

"Most of all, remember why you are here," she commanded. "You are here to rescue one of the greatest men of our time. Now climb aboard."

Natasha's praise of Steve was brief, but it was the prick of the needle that caused Becky's heart to burst. She breathed shakily and silently followed the SHIELD agents into the quinjet.

Sight had been a warped blur and sound an unintelligible murmur for an indefinable timespan. A constant ache throbbed in his brain and a slow but steady drain seemed to drag away a quart of wholesome blood at a time. Nightmarish images spooked the darkness of his subconscious and conscious. A familiar voice echoed in his eardrums and scratched at his troubled soul constantly. He did not know where he was or what was happening, just that he absolutely had to escape; except he had no idea how to escape, from either the physical or psychological grip that someone else had on him.

"Becky, where are you?" he asked, only indiscernibly mumbling the words aloud.

"I promise I'll find you," thought Becky as she charged down a long corridor alongside several Afghan guards.

Becky and the original SHIELD squad had long since been separated and stationed with new recruits. Perhaps it was for the better, since Natasha's piercing gaze would have soon found Becky out. Then again, Natasha's glare had since been replaced with several strange and hostile stares. Becky did not relish either aspect of scrutiny. The burly leader of Becky's squad signaled his men to halt in front of the double doors leading to one of the central labs. The leader spoke in his native tongue, so Becky had no idea what his orders were. She assumed from him pressing his finger to his lips that she was to keep quiet… no matter what.

Suddenly, a wail erupted from behind the doors, startling several of the men. The leader swore and roared at them for so quickly losing their nerve. He flung the doors open with ease, and they slowly entered the laboratory; the lab was filled with men strapped down to sanitized tables as the scientists inserted them with needles, drew out blood (which had become a sickly green instead of the normal crimson), and conversed fervently with fellow scientists. The men who were being experimented on varied in appearance from man to man; some were frothing at the mouth, some were dully dozing, some were biting and snapping at the scientists, and some were weakly weeping. Becky wanted to collapse from grief and pity, but she knew that would do these men no good. She had to centralize on her mission, and nothing else.

"What is taking Red Skull so long?" questioned one scientist angrily.

Becky's ears pricked at the sound of English; one quick glance informed her that this particular scientist was not from Afghanistan.

"I don't know," replied the scientist's colleague. "I hope he'll come up with the formula soon. How long can it take now that he has Captain America?"

Becky's squad had station themselves around the lab, so she had to tear herself from hearing the conversation. At least she now knew that Nick Fury's lead was correct. Except she still needed to figure out where Steve was being held captive.

"Do you think we'll be stationed where Captain America is?" whispered Becky huskily to the guard alongside her.

The guard looked at her strangely and replied, "Why are you speaking in English?"

Becky inwardly cursed at her stupidity, but also wondered how this man knew English.

Becky cleared her throat and answered, "I'm practicing the language. The more I speak it, the better I know it." The guard nodded, and Becky prodded, "So, do you think we will see the captain?"

"I don't know why you are so curious about it," responded the guard carelessly. "He's basically another lab rat. We probably will see him at some point, since the guards always rotate their stations."

Becky nodded and said nothing more.

Whew, the suspense must be aggravating, huh? Well except for AvengerGal.